"adonis" poems
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
I, as Queen of the Underworld, can
Protect his charming body from vicious men
It is here where he found his safest den
Here I’ll protect his flesh from being stricken
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
I, as keeper of this handsome lad since his childhood
Seeks for him nothing, but everything that’s good
It is his well-being that lights up my mood
I’ll badly be hurt when he’s hurt by someone shrewd
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
Shrewd is his rival for the love of Aphrodite
He will be in great danger with her, can’t see?
Surely from Ares wrath, he’ll experience something nasty
And also with the god of fire, he’ll surely die violently!
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth so fine!
Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth of mine!
To deadly earth above, don’t allow him to incline
If this bad fate happens, my eyes will emit brine
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
Witness me mourn for the loss of this lad!
Do you want the Queen of the Dead to feel bad?
If Adonis is gone, my brain will also be mad!
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis!
From this sanctuary, do not take him away
Do not let my life be in disarray
To make him remain here, tell me the way
I bow, I kneel, I prostrate, I pray!
-02/09/2015
*Hopelessly Immortal Collection
(Dumarao)
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
She told me
I was young, handsome,tall,
well sculpted and brave,
She worshipped me,
She had blinds over her eyes,
She was not my Aphrodite.
I was not her Adonis,
I fled.
I am lazy,
I am afraid of cockroaches,
I snore a lot,
I love to watch football on T.V,
I sometimes forget to leave the toilet sit up,
In short, I have flaws,
I am human, not a God.
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 10:44 AM UTC
I laid an anemone
on the mask of a crying girl
the young mother
the crouching woman
I am beautiful
says the sirens
says the ever-youthful vegetation
of God
I mixed my blood and nectar
on the mask of a dying man
the decay of kiss
the resurrection
I am beautiful
says the anemone
says Adonis in his grave
I burned their leaf-stems
on the mask of an artist
the eternal springtime
the life-death-rebirth deity
I am beautiful
says the martyr
says girl as she wakes
to the sirens
I am beautiful
says the head on the platter
I am beautiful
and the woman descends
the bronze invading
the bronze high-handed
the bronze opening
to the gates of hell
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
I, the goddess of love & beauty, will
Make sure to the fullest that no one can ****
The charming Adonis who makes me feel
Great beyond any ****** that’s real
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
I, as the discoverer of this beautiful creature so rare
Is the first beholder of his countenance so fair
It is I who granted him the first unmatched care
The kind of caress he will acquire only in my lair
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
His refuge in me never has the stench of death
It’s just like everyday he experiences rebirth
‘Coz there I can render him the greatest of health
Beauty & youth of flesh beyond any mirth
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
Be vigilant towards the welfare of Adonis, my delight
His bulging muscles are proofs of his radiant might
So alluring to any mortal & immortal sight
No one can also equal his handsome face so bright
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
That beauty of his can only be cherished
In my realm where beauty never goes blemished
The place that all mortals have ever wished
There the bright sun will keep his body nourished
Oh Adorable Zeus, hear Aphrodite’s petition to regain Adonis!
Adonis’ beauty is not fit for the home of the dead
He is so vibrant from foot to head
Remove him from Hades! To my haven, instead!
There he will be nourished by life-giving bread!
-02/10/2015
(Dumarao)
*Hopelessly Immortal Collection
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
when i want inspiration to write poetry
i watch a heaving tempest of kisses
they have a better flavor
than cooking shows
what's prettier than pretty pretty
in pigtails
shaking her delicious
derriere whipped Soufflé?
i'm kissing butter princess
witchy ****
spread lickity splits
eating her
with a big wide **** eating grin
like an open face dagwood
whats more poetic than that hopeful glaring
of
Adonis's plumper in paradise
filling Cleopatra's slathered meringue?
ga-ga-ga-gag me, daddy
merciless, pa-leazze
fluttered big wet talking eyes
like pools of blue honey
getting it zigged zagged
hard against a redraw mouth
throttling fluted gullet
while eager throat gasps
a symphonic music of the spheres
in relentless staccato chokes
lovin her big devil **** splashing
all gym built wonder-boy
a litter of ****** and tongues
licking pig greedy
rapturous milkshake waterfalls
whimpering
mmmmmm
oooh big daddy
oh my ****** god
pillar of colossus
you Tunisian donut you
pierce me like a spoon
through summer guava
who screams like that eating lunch
but a half ate apricot?
better than a football game
I'd rather take her greek
more fun than math or small talk
preferable to a pat on the back at work
or a ridged procession at a funeral
oh beautiful dark fig
squatting crotch candy
bubbling tapioca ***
queen of
spun sugar ****
all pyrotechnics
and fluttering sinews
if you asked most
do they watch ****
they'd grow smug like a senator
or punch you in the mouth
outwardly high-minded
refusing the blessing of a
video **** parade
of pirouetting vaginas
and glistening areolas
for the glory
of the secret ************ ceremony
the *** moralists
only good for a secret ******
living their lives
with passions submerged
and nothing to confess
except for guilty offerings
as they wander through dreamland shopping malls
wanting to know
Victorias ***** little secret
seduced
but not caressed
by
a mouthpiece for castrated dreams
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
I'll be the sea, fatuous and chaotic
You be the sky, melting into marigolds above me
Tasting colours, orchards of hues
Close my eyes and lift up my libation
All my arid poems of sybaritic self pity
Sand on my lips, wind sweeping my hair, seashells in my ears
Salty spray on my eyelashes
You're my sweet clemency, verdure and elusive
I want all of you, your ochre and your chartresue and your auburn melting into each other
I want your contradictions and contraindications and complications and dreary storms
Your bleak Tuesdays, your burnt clouds, your blurry edges
Your unknowable horizons
And your azure, pastel and electric, harsh and soft, misty and empty
Do I need to spell it out, darling
I want to kiss you, isn't it obvious
Jan 3, 2022
Jan 3, 2022 at 11:02 PM UTC
Cytherea, thy dainty Adonis is dying!
Ah, what shall we do?
O Nymphs, let it echo, the voice of your crying,
The greenwood through!
O Forest-maidens, smite on the breast,
Rend ye the delicate-woven vest!
Let the wail ring wild and high:
'Ah for Adonis!' cry.
O Sappho, how canst thou chant the bliss
Of Kypris — after such day as this?
'Oh Adonis, thou leavest me — woe for my lot!
And Eros, my servant, availeth me not!'
So wails Cytherea, grief-distraught.
'Who shall console me for thee? There is none —
Not Ares my god-lover, passionate one
Who sware in his jealousy forth to hale
Hephaestus my spouse from his palace, if he
Dared but to lift his eyes unto me.
Not he can console me, Adonis, for thee!'
Wail for Adonis, wail!
4.4k
All hail the Lizard King,
whose esoteric words crawl like sirens
over hungry rocks
baring teeth to the hypnotized sailor
steering his ship into the jagged maw.
All hail the Lizard King,
perched upon his Dionysian throne,
ambrosial ecstasies fill his cup
while jongleurs dance to psychedelic chansons.
At his feet
prey the nubile maidens of yore
flower-eyed and pearly-teethed.
His eyes, mighty azure pools of madness
within which Byzantine kings were murdered--
blood darts through the mysterious waters
into the hysterical white void.
Alexander the Great
sits poised like a statue
where his libido crouches like a panther
'til the aural adonis
leaps from his confines
an amorous figure of tantalizing flesh and blood
with supple lips pouting, naked muscles taut,
mad eyes gleaming.
All hail the Lizard King,
from lush lips poetic decrees
sing forth into the endless night
penetrating taverns and bedrooms and radios
and stadiums.
The electric shaman leaps from his throne
to cast his wicked incantation,
a spark from his eyes shoots to the pyre
where a lustful blue flame erupts from
the bones of the prophets.
HIs voice soothing, haunting,
the sonic alchemist
sings his siren song into the cataclysm
where we are cast in abeyance--
We follow him,
but is he only leading us deeper
into the darkness,
or does he truly see the light?
The endless night.
All hail the Lizard King.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
The sun shines, the sea sparkles,
Laughter fills the air, delighted chuckles
Bubble from cavorting cupids,
This is their time, memories built
On a sweet summer day,
Happiness founded on laughter and play.
This languid Aphrodite, though
Must be content with vicarious joy,
Seeking balm in the salt sea,
Soaking invisible wounds, savouring the sting.
Far away, Adonis waits, and waits,
To bathe with her once more.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 8:14 AM UTC
Metaphorically, you are a sly simile,
Stealing my heart
Like the smooth criminal
You often pretend to be.
I am the ineffable euphony of
Melodious sing-song
Slip-falling through the space
Between tone-deaf ears.
Such handsome hyperbole
You have turned out to be.
Pompous, peacock-ing Adonis
Lending love that's just platonic.
Alliterative rhythmic rhyme
Ticks the tumultuous internal time.
Fleeting fiend, you soon will find
Lust in lieu of love is a loathsome, lonely life.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC
1.
Each of us like you
has died once,
has passed through drift of wood-leaves,
cracked and bent
and tortured and unbent
in the winter-frost,
the burnt into gold points,
lighted afresh,
crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf,
gold turned and re-welded
in the sun;
each of us like you
has died once,
each of us has crossed an old wood-path
and found the winter-leaves
so golden in the sun-fire
that even the live wood-flowers
were dark.
2.
Not the gold on the temple-front
where you stand
is as gold as this,
not the gold that fastens your sandals,
nor thee gold reft
through your chiselled locks,
is as gold as this last year's leaf,
not all the gold hammered and wrought
and beaten
on your lover's face.
brow and bare breast
is as golden as this:
each of us like you
has died once,
each of us like you
stands apart, like you
fit to be worshipped.
3k
that man has a fever (for flesh),
one would think
that one would
need to be cooled
in order to leave her undressed.
always hanging 'round the ladies
strong and handsome
hollywood smile,
the good adonis, a fair tease.
but his nonage was not dominated
by girlish squeals or hearts,
boys like him were quiet-like
and kept under the dark.
(for what if they found out?)
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 10:13 AM UTC
I’m not perfect. I’m far from it. A clattering engine of destructive vices, a body average under Adonis, a mind weathered by experience and paradoxical in influence.
It has taken a lot of work and luck to become who I am today, with that ****** in the mirror tripping me up plenty along the way.
But in this moment, amongst our grand but insignificant civilisation, amongst our beautiful but minute planet, in this relative scope I sit here with you in...
Somehow... things have finally worked. Fitted. Reached... some level of... peace.
As I indulge in your eyes there’s a lot to contemplate, speculate, agonise over.
There will be times between us where consequence will draw conflict, where our dividing, clashing aspects will build the intensity of how different we are, questioning whether we should know each other at all.
Moments where the reminders of the subtle magnetism amongst our personalities seem almost transparent.
Familiarity breeds contempt so they say.
What I hope, for us, for whatever this is, whatever it will become, I hope potential and positivity can develop.
Spontaneity.
Exploration.
Curiosity.
You once were... the goal personified. Amongst the trivial, the financial, the creative, a connection with you became... valuable. And now... my love, now the connection has filtered into my memories as something warm and reassuring, you have stepped from the centre of attention to a turn of my head from the perceivable forward.
In the drive of the day, you serve as a fantastical presence in my mind, a word repeating in the sentences rambling through the monologue, associated with an image that stirs a collection of emotion.
The words and images, the memories and ghostly echo of a voice straighten my back out, and knock my chin up a touch.
We don’t depend on each other, we aren’t each other’s everything, instead we are friends in love developing ourselves in a way I can never fully express thanks for.
Life is a challenge, and at the same a beauteous opportunity and I’m glad you’re sharing it with me. The reassurance of you... helps me take it all on with pride.
So thanks.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
I hate how they never warn little girls
to beware the pretty boys
with eyes like gleaming jewels.
The boys with soft smiles
and music in their laugh.
They never warn
of boys with pretty faces
and blackened hearts.
The boys that leave little girls
crying in the dark.
The ones with words like honey,
sickly sweet.
The princes with big money,
who we dream of sweeping us off our feet.
They never speak
of boys with danger in their eyes.
But beauty true blue.
Little girls are never told
of boys of silver and boys of gold.
The little kings,
with angel wings.
The little beast neither soft nor sweet.
The beauty bombshells,
the golden adonis’s.
They never speak of boys
who run like the winds
under their feet.
The boys who shine
like the stars in the sky.
The boys with the world in their grubby mitts.
The boys with lips like cotton candy,
and sins warm and rich.
The ones who have our
stomachs doing flips.
The ones who seem to have it all
shoulders back, standing tall.
They never caution of
little boys with clever minds
and nimble fingers.
Of boys with Shakespeare's sonnets in their hair
and love songs in their whispers.
But little girl,
I am telling you now.
Beware the pigtail pullers,
fear the little Romeos.
Heed the heartbreakers
Shun smooth talkers.
Little girl,
don’t give in.
Little girl,
fear their sins.
Little girl,
run away.
Little girl,
don’t stay to play.
Little girl,
don’t stop and stare.
Little girl,
don’t twirl your hair.
Little girl,
please, listen to me!
Little girl,
loath the charming pretty boys.
For they are like roses
and like roses
they have thorns.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
On a Sunday evening right inside Cartwheel Theatre the crowds somehow ignored the curtains as their spectaculars turned into their favorite pair of googly eyes
They set sight and aimed towards a rather refined looking gentleman with a marble pebble tie
Ah! Adonis! Then crowds were astonished!
The audience suddenly collapsed into a bore as their actor had a lead role of having a smile like open doors towards thick fields and bushels of grains and having a long right arm of direction pointing towards the lazy boys and reclining girls
Ah! Adonis! Whatever happened to the curtains?!
"this is a repetitive act!"
"I've heard of this before!"
"why are the old acts better than this week's?"
"predictable!"
Adonis noticing all eyes aimed at his cheek bones sang; "it is not I! I pity you who lost their recognition to the real show paid all your life to take a peek at a rather fragile fellow pale as I am, I beseech you; go beyond this curtains and forever stand in awe!"
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
You were draped across a girlfriend's bedroom wall
where a cross would be,
your arms held out loosely like an ambiguous invitation,
shielding your countenance from extraneous intrusions
under which she would sleep soundly
in the shroud of your incantation.
Your fallen angel wings beating back bad dreams
slain mercilessly
and falling at your feet.
Your lips slightly pouting, eyes dark,
obfuscating the madness and sex-crazed hallucinations
they harbor.
Hair purposefully unkempt,
disheveled sensuously atop your head,
tufts of hair brushed across your broad chest--
Bare muscles taut and taunting,
placed topographically on the poised temple--
those ready to worship bow their heads
in reverence to the sonic alchemist.
The modern adonis,
sculpted out of the Mississippi Delta Blues
and Dionysian wet dreams--
brought to life with the electric current pulsating through the microphone and its stand upon which you straddle with skin-tight leather pants--
Your left hand around its waist,
your right cupped over the phallus--
your lips part and your cataclysmal eyes
envelop the darkness before you--
Your image,
tormented and tantalizing
in an open invitation
to prostrate ourselves before you
and succumb to your hypnotic stare.
The door opens.
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 12:14 AM UTC
~
*...of wine and mirth
and holy birth,
of flowers and promise
and braided calmness,
of hummingbird and dragonfly
and their descending sky,
of porpoise and whale
and us as wind against the sail,
of grown wishes and sadness
in the flat fields under duress,
of sugar-filled cocoons and syrup
and sweetest honeymoon trip,
of dimples of Venus
and smiles from Adonis,
of thin walls about her room
in hopes to visit soon,
of all things made and said
and each time we shared a bed...*
~
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 5:49 PM UTC
Ray Lewis, your spokesman
is ripped and he's lean.
He's built like Adonis
and, by rep, very mean.
If I use "old Spice" body wash
as per his advice.
The ladies will swoon
as I'll smell so **** nice.
I'm short fat and Jewish-
a Nebbish at heart.
In intimate settings
I'm quite prone to ****
So I bought "Old Spice" body wash
and lathered it on.
Then I entered the bedroom
and said "Babe, bring it on!"
Olive, my lover of many a year
was less than impressed
when I deigned to appear.
A giggle, a chuckle and then a guffaw
My confidence sagged
like my double chinned jaw.
"Darling, it may be you smell like Ray Lewis
but when my eyes open
You're short fat and Jewish."
The ad was misleading
and I feel like a fool
Not a mensch, more a reject
from a shallow gene pool.
Bad enough that the store
on my refund is reneging.
foreplay now requires
two hours of begging.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Three women were out golfing
one day and one of them hit
her ball into
the woods. She went into the
woods to look for it and found
a frog in a
trap.
The frog said to her, "If you
release me from this trap, I will
grant
you three wishes."
The woman freed the frog and
the frog said, "Thank you, but I
forgot to
mention that there was a
condition to your wishes- that
whatever you wish
for, your husband will get 10
times more or better."
The woman said, "That would
be fine." For her first wish she
wanted to
be the most beautiful woman in
the world. The frog warned her,
"You do
realize that this wish will also
make your husband the most
handsome man
in the world, an Adonis, that
women will flock to him."
The woman replied, "That will
be okay, because I will be the
most
beautiful woman and he will
only have eyes for me."
So, **** - she's the most
beautiful woman in the world.
For her second wish, she
wanted to be the richest
woman in the world.
The frog said, "That will make
your husband the richest man
in the
world, and he will be 10 times
richer than you."
The woman said, "That will be
okay, because what is mine is
his, and
what is his is mine..." So, ****
she's the richest woman in the
world.
The frog then inquired about
her third wish, and she
answered,
"I'd like a mild heart attack."
Jan 24, 2010
Jan 24, 2010 at 5:34 PM UTC
Starlings fly in silver sky
Bullfinch in the dry grass sings,
Emerald teal in tandem fly
Explosively on phosphor wings.
Miracles are in the air
Golden sun in evening glow,
Marigolds of orange flair,
With lavender, in patchwork grow.
Sap is flowing in the wood
bursting buds of olive greens,
Winter flees as winter should
Whilst bubbling brook transform to streams
Miracles are in the air
Colour rich in reddish hues,
Greens of fresh lime , aqua flair
Spring arrives in vivid views.
Silk striations lace the sky
With molten, mackerel clouds of gold,
Evening chill for you and I
Suggest we snuggle close to hold.
Miracles are in the air
A Moonrise breaks horizon’s door,
Hugely round with craters bare
We laugh with joy and seek for more.
Tantalizing night upon us
Stars ignite the heaven's fire,
Black as pitch with jewelled Adonis
Hot white pinpoints of desire.
Miracles are in the air
Passion in the blood doth boil,
Moonlight through her silver hair
Exquisite as blue fire on oil.
Marshalg
@thebach
29 August 2011
Aug 29, 2011
Aug 29, 2011 at 1:38 AM UTC
His image an Adonis,
endearing and flawless.
Rotten as his conscience!
His speech a lovely promise,
satisfaction to hear.
Sickening as his breath.
He came as a Gabriel,
a messenger of hope.
Alas a fallen one,
with black wings and soul!
Close your eyes at his face.
Feel him with your senses,
and see his deception.
Ignore his angelic voice,
and feel his lies.
A dark angel in disguise.
He can be your archangel,
but never your protector.
An angel from hell.
His sole aim- to lure!
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 6:16 AM UTC
For it is this love, that I feel,
Sleepless nights, restless days, letting play the reel
Of film that shows how my life does look and feel.
Oh for when I see this form Adonis may it not be similar to,
But Aphrodite has something up her sleeve, a thing or two
About how this network of unrequited love will just end up sad and blue.
I do wish you the best of luck in everything you love,
Sadly I can't wish you to love me, to the heavens above.
It is now that I should try to let go of this dove.
To this dove that I loved endearingly,
To this dove that was close to me adoringly,
To this dove that I will bid farewell agonizingly.
I just keep on holding on
To this love that will dawn upon
Me the finality of this feeling that will be gone.
But it's you why I keep on hoping
That our love is just in the making.
I hope I won't be forever longing.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 2:13 PM UTC
Are you a cat or bird,
devil or saint?
Villain and victim, dichotic romantic,
bruised and beaten, ostracised.
Bruised and beaten, demonised.
A willow bending against cruel fashion's wind.
A thousand storms of impotent hate,
jealousies and malignant complaints.
Rain like sonnets before the deaf!
As your gifts are pearl before swine.
And yet thy brow is regal still.
The profile of a demon prince -
no matter what shape taketh the face.
Be thou Quasimodo or Adonis by fate.
Whose smile has lit a thousand candles
in thankless, bitter hearts,
and fires in the hearths of freaks
who need but a spark to break the leash.
Or art thou Prince of Cats?
Yearning for the freedom to roam, to hunt.
Seeking pleasure, his mistresses pats.
The enemy of closed doors and cold paws.
Or could thou be a bird?
Clipped wings, a gilded cage,
whose song can only go so far.
If not let to glide into the night, to rise,
to greet the dawn with bleary, satisfied eyes.
Of one who has been given the chance to soar!
Or else to wilt, and yowl no more.
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
I loved you the way
Samson loved Delilah
Foolishly.
I loved you the way
Aphrodite loved Adonis
Sensually.
I loved you fatally
Lustrously
Beautifully
Brokenly.
I loved you the way
A rose loves it's thorn
Too tender to the touch.
I loved you the way
I loved no one else
And that was far too much.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
What sort of divination is this?
Immediately paralyzed by a feathery kiss.
The magnetism between us was always so strong,
But now I'm tortured awaiting you to arrive erelong.
You cast your wand, chant triple syllable spell
You filled my void, something you'd always done well
Now something has changed
This is far more intense
I find that I have lost every single defense
Tender Wizard, Loving Warlock, I am begging thee
Do not ever set me free.
Whatever potion, illusion, or spell this is
I am forever in need of you, my Adonis
For withdrawal seems fatal on both ends
The future now on you depends
For I do not want to leave my trance
This allurement was never a happenstance
Forever I see you with love veiled eyes
Vulnerable to even the slightest demise.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC