"aflutter" poems
Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress, and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with love's anguish!
But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers as you have done before;
O, come Divine One, descend once again from
heaven's golden dominions!
Your chariot yoked to love's consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you once came gliding from the utmost heights, to
the dark-bosomed earth.
Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.
Asking me what I sought in my hopeless, bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should
Persuasion summon here?"
"Though today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall return them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"
Come to me now, most Holy Aphrodite!
Release me from my heavy heartache and anguish;
grant me all I request, be once again
my ally and protector!
"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his "On Literary Composition," published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, "Hymn to Aphrodite" may have been composed for performance within the cult. We do know that Sappho was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of ****** were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called "the Tenth Muse" and the other nine were goddesses. Keywords/Tags: Sapphic, Sappho, ****** translation, ancient Greek, hymn, Aphrodite, Zeus, daughter, immortal, goddess, holy, lady, heaven, enchantress, enchantment, love potion, charm, spell, persuasion, beguiler, beguilement, mistress, discipline, ********** prayer, prayers, chariot, heaven, descent, ally, protector, lust, desire, passion, longing, *** crush, girlfriend, women, grief
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 2:51 AM UTC
I.
the emperor
sleeps in a palace of porphyry
which was a million years building
he takes the air in a howdah
of jasper beneath saffron
umbrellas
upon an elephant
twelve foot high
behind whose ear
sits always a crowned
king twir-
ling an
ankus of
ebony
the fountains of the emperor’s
palace run sunlight and
moonlight and the emperor’s
elephant is a thousand years old
the harem of
the emperor
is carpeted with
gold cloth
from the
ceiling(one
diamond timid
with nesting incense)
fifty
marble
pillars
slipped from immeasurable
height,fall,fifty,silent
in the incense is tangled a cool moon
there are thrice-three-hundred
doors carven of chalcedony and
before every door a naked
****** watches
on their heads turbans of a hundred
colours
in their hands scimitars like windy torches
each
is
blacker than oblivion
the ladies
of the emperor’s
harem are queens
of all the earth and the rings
upon their hands are from mines
a mile deep
but the body of
the queen of queens is
more transparent
than water,she is softer than birds
2.
when the emperor is very
amorous he reclines upon
the couch of couches and
beckons with
the little
finger of his left
hand
then the
thrice-three-hundredth
door is opened by the tallest
****** and the queen
of queens comes
forth
ankles
musical with large pearls
kingdoms in her ears
at the feet of
the emperor a cithern-
player squats with
quiveringgold
body
behind
the emperor ten
elected warriors with
bodies of lazy jade
and twitching
eyelids
finger
their
unquiet
spears
the queen of queens is dancing
her subtle
body weaving
insinuating upon the gold cloth
incessantly creates patterns of sudden
lust
her
stealing body ex-
pending gathering pouring upon itself stiffenS
to a
white thorn
of desire
the taut neck of the citharede wags
in the dust the ghastly warriors
amber with lust breathe
together the emperor,exerting
himself among his pillows throws
jewels at the queen of queens and
white money upon her nakedness
he
nods
and all
depart through the bruised air aflutter with pearls
3.
they are
alone
he beckons,she rises she
stands
a moment
in the passion of the fifty
pillars
listening
while the queens of all the
earth writhe upon deep rugs
11.2k
Only in my dreams,
where the butterflies are aflutter,
Can I find the warm, smooth surface,
to something so much grander than I could ever imagine.
Your hills,
your valleys,
your rivers,
your lightning,
the beauty unsurpassed.
The glow of the lights,
down the street corridor,
flakes falling, sticking,
straight to your hair.
Wrapped in my warmth,
I hold on tight,
To what I know,
the only truth in this world.
Every moment,
two beats,
fresh again,
and together in time.
I want this moment to last forever.
This moment, I not yet know.
Will I ever know you...
Could I ever find you, see you, feel you, my truth.
*I don't know who you are.
But I love you. More than you yet know...<3*
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
#
***My mind to frolic, with words of Frost
Slides between and then is lost
Drifting ‘round to fellows long
My thirst is deep; desires strong
Filled with all that Maya says
Flits in and out my meddling head
And ah, when Pablo speaks of love
My heart's aflutter with pure white doves
Around the beat, who else but Poe
A deep dark place I've come to know
I stop to ponder the words worth
As if I've nursed them from their birth
I settle to hear the rambling brook
Where Gwendolyn baits my eager hook
Then ‘long comes Oscar, running wild
I listen like an eager child
When Langston paints his colored hues
His canvas fills my point of view
Not just the finest spinning me
To this state of flux and reverie
For verses drift from near and far
Forever reaching for the stars
Feeding on the gentle night
I languish in the word's delight
Finding rhyme from ‘neath the skin
The place where passion's settled in
To fill my cup, appease my soul
Till hunger's sated, fat and whole
The empty space behind my eyes
Is filled with life's sweet lullabies
And when at last, I lay to rest
I'm filled with cadence of the best***
#
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:24 AM UTC
Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho (her only complete poem)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress, and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with love's anguish!
But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers as you have done before;
O, come Divine One, descend once again from heaven's
golden dominions!
Your chariot yoked to love's consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you once came gliding from the utmost heights, to
this dark earth.
Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.
Asking me what I sought in my hopeless, bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here?"
"Though today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, she soon shall return them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"
Come to me now, most Holy Aphrodite!
Release me from my heavy heartache and anguish;
grant me all I request, be once again
my ally and protector!
"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his "On Literary Composition," published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, "Hymn to Aphrodite" may have been composed for performance within the cult. We do know that Sappho was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of ****** were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called "the Tenth Muse" and the other nine were goddesses. Keywords/Tags: Sapphic, Sappho, ****** translation, ancient Greek, hymn, Aphrodite, Zeus, daughter, immortal, goddess, holy, lady, heaven, enchantress, enchantment, love potion, charm, spell, persuasion, beguiler, beguilement, mistress, discipline, ********** prayer, prayers, chariot, heaven, descent, ally, protector, lust, desire, passion, longing, *** crush, girlfriend, women, grief
Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
Fresh innocence,
Power aflower,
Baby experience
Your first hour.
Unaware, curious,
Shine 'n shower,
Child experience
Your second hour.
Optimistic,
Visionary mystic,
Youth experience
Your third hour.
Tired 'n bitter,
Lemon-sour,
Man experience
Your fourth hour.
Body bent o'er,
Spirit aflutter,
Codger experience
Your fifth hour.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 8:54 AM UTC
Object of my love,
My heart aflutter high,
Your auburn eyes paint a never-ending sky.
Your sweet lilac perfume,
gently breathes down my neck,
and your arms pressed delicately around my side,
one more kiss
is all I ask.
You give to me,
an oasis in a desert,
sunlight breaking night,
and emotions now become,
all the more enjoyable.
Life's motions
set my endurance high.
Now,
my heart slows,
my breath sighs,
my eyes soften,
and all around me
is the brilliant fanfare of love.
Mend the wounds unto me from my life,
and sew together my broken pieces,
with kindness
and love.
Steal my nights away,
sleep's another moment
not spent with you.
I've been given grapes,
give it some time,
now I want wine.
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 12:24 PM UTC
a certain morning stiffness
in your joints
you find your face
in the bathroom mirror
and wish you hadn't
the puzzled wisdom
of middle age
wavers from your eyes
deepening wrinkles
of many laughs
many frowns
how many more?
nevermore ?!
the room becomes aflutter
with poesque ravens
the presence of absences
fills the void
your life is on the brink
of deconstructing itself
to the periphery of the universe
a discourse of silence
forever becoming ... becoming ...
what...?
nevermind!
so
you close your eyes
hard
for a minute or two
when you look again
you meet the stare
of a not-so-bad-looking
man in his best years
graying sideburns
receding hairline
20 pounds too many
BUT
a firm decision
to work them off
still a bit sleepy
yet determined
to shave
get dressed
have breakfast
and teach
that wonderful seminar
on 19th century poetry
to eager graduate students
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
I was a chaparone at the All Hallow's Eve dance.
Listening to the band play Halloween faves,
and watching the eyeballs floating in the punch.
The background decor, seems made for Doomsday.
Grungy, haunted house theme, hellish ghouls,
Gargoyles gone mad, witch's brew, and bats all aflutter.
Here and there between the goth and the empath,
a psychopath roams, silently stalking his prey,
amongst the frightening selection of costumed kids.
The mental resilience to survive such horrors,
depends on your grasp of reality. Realizing the lights,
the music, the garish dress, meerly decor for this night's festivities.
And yet, underlying this ghoulish fun, a sense,
a sense of doom, and ********** by something
otherly, stalking its prey, seeking that single moment.
To bring to light in the dim, ghostly haze,
a wickedness yet unknown to those attending.
That ever vile teacher, bent on making those around her suffer.
We have all seen her, stride the halls purposely,
Giant mole on her chin, Ruler in Hand.
Striking fear in the strongest of souls.
That authoritarian of witches, Ms. Nasher the Head Basher!
Run for your LIVESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 4:53 PM UTC
my ***** Little Secret, symbolized
by ***** words and little idiosyncrasies and
secret secret liaisons;
je c'adore,
laying Control alongside
cast off clothing and kicked off wet *******
heartbeat aflutter beneath your
oh so deliberate ministrations and
thighs aquiver beneath your
oh so deliberate teeth.
my wrists chafe; bound by bitter steel to demure wood,
powerless
or rather
entirely in your power.
you've always loved it,
the thrill of exploration, of
Newfoundland, of
conquer and subjugation and ravishment;
your tongue flickering against my
**** like eiderdown,
fingertips tracing spirals and Möbius
Strips upon my *******
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
For days it was as if I never existed.
You have flung me out of your world
like a wilted flower from your vase.
I have treasured our unuttered pledges—
rising with your name as a prayer on my lips,
breathing the morning breeze,
marveling,
oh God, isn’t this the same fragrance my dear one breathes!
I waited beneath your window last night,
heart aflutter under the moon,
for a rustle at the curtain,
a fleeting glimpse of your shadow...
Throughout you kept it shut.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Aflutter
by Michael R. Burch
"This rainbow is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh."—Yahweh
You are gentle now, and in your failing hour
how like the child you were, you seem again,
and smile as sadly as the girl
(age ten?)
who held the sparrow with the mangled wing
close to her heart.
It marveled at your power
but would not mend.
And so the world renews
old vows it seemed to make: false promises
spring whispers, as if nothing perishes
that does not resurrect to wilder hues
like rainbows’ eerie pacts we apprehend
but cannot fail to keep.
Now in your eyes
I see the end of life that only dies
and does not care for bright, translucent lies.
Are tears so precious? These few, let us spend
together, as before, then lay to rest
these sparrows’ hearts aflutter at each breast.
Published by The Lyric, Poetry Life & Times and The Eclectic Muse
NOTE: This is a poem about a couple committing suicide together. The “eerie pact” refers to a bible verse about the rainbow being a “covenant,” when the only covenant human beings can depend on is the original one that condemned us to suffer and die. That covenant is always kept perfectly. Keywords/Tags: Gentle, heart, flutter, aflutter, death, dying, suicide, euthanasia, pact, tears, hospice, hemlock, arsenic, rest in peace
Mar 4, 2020
Mar 4, 2020 at 3:42 AM UTC
I will always remember the moment we met.
(Haunting woodlands in springtime, your slim silhouette)
The glint in your eyes sparked a tempest at dawn
overwhelming the dreams of a slumbering fawn.
I will always remember your singular smile
(Fusing fantasies, fancies and phantoms the while)
when I brought you a daisy, then fled from the room,
weaving dizzy designs on a mystical loom.
I will always remember first touching your hand.
(Like the wing of a sparrow, frail fingers were fanned)
With my heartbeat aflutter, I jittered with joy -
on the surface, a man, though inside still a boy.
I will always remember the sound of your laugh
(Merry mermaid amused in a summer sea bath)
as we strayed 'long the strand, for a moment, alone,
with your tresses a’ tousle and tumbled and blown.
I will always remember your breath on my skin
(Seeking castles in chaos, a spirit in spin)
as you drew me aside and our tongues first entwined -
tangled twists of amour had begun to unwind.
I will always remember the fires of love.
(Shades of autumn ablaze in the tree leaves above)
Crazy passions ignited whenever we lay
painting stars in the night with the dazzle of day.
I will always remember the nightingale's tune.
(Divinations awash neath a ruddy blood moon)
When we kissed to its cadency, laughed as we danced,
lurking lanterns in limbo forged shadows enhanced.
I will always remember the shattering knell -
(Wanton words tolled in winter... ‘Adieu, dear... farewell’)
just a note near a nook where so often we slept
which I read and reread and reread while I wept.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
Let me breathe you in
As though electricity were oxygen
On the tips of our tongues
How easily butterflies turn to fire
Amid stolen kisses
And whispering fingertips
Singe me with your lips
Taste my whimpers
Burn me slowly
Hearts and wings aflutter
To die by your touch
Is to die alive...
M.A.P.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
The game played no longer how it once was
No votes on new posts
don't check the trends
or check your own for views and comments
The substantive roaming data of broken WiFi connections
Mangle your jangling words, hide your swollen faces behind forced smiles, Rembrandt bastardisations or smeared oil paintings of the black soul(less) beasts that lurk in satiate tree shadows fawned over the lawnmower blue cycle rinse washed acid soaked daydream ***** slap nation
So you revere the works once read on poetical facsimile sites
only to smear words of younger wordsmith wrangled teen angst
and now in your age and ardor it seems advantageous to judge
But then that will leave you hollow inside
or in fact, you could jump from a tall building only to bounce off the concrete into a children's pool and drown there in three inches of **** coloured rain water
But so instead the workload decreases as your dementia bedpost nightmares
all come aflutter
The laced lily white throng of petal pinched patterns masks
the marked men on their dusty knees
There, watch how heads explode
or listen to foley artists rendering the lacquered finish of the watermelon headjuice
Make up words
or make up lies
Wear make-up daily, earn some prize
or don't
I don't care
idc
idk
Resemble rhyme or reason
Disassemble the times and season
Return to pejorative pretensions, rants in verse verse verse verse prose format and **** the rest
Or simply return to the old ways of playing the game
Upvote this, and maybe they'll take interest
Comment here
return one there
Use tags, hashtags, wash rags, fat slags, arm chair fat cats
But always separated by spaces, prettyblankspaces
No, I don't do slam poetry, I'm too white and not nearly rich enough to not care
Reassemble the times and season, maybe make sense of it
Maybe not
Just don't let them become a passing trend, please
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 12:23 PM UTC
Sky I see, in blue, in sky, in white, in cloud
Bits of grey, scattered within, also in there
Scattered thoughts, perhaps soft pattering rain
Sounds unexpected, echo in my ears
Buzzards drift, uplifting, to warm east winds
Dragons as flies, butter as flies too
Peacock in azurite, fanned out to full
Littles aflutter, in all branches near
Winds catch soft breeze, just right, a good cool feel
Deer strolling into verdant far land
Crows with caw of a disturbed picnic lunch
Minnows dappling pond's water, glass clear
This is sacred sight, which when I turn old
All blind, I expect, I will too soon miss
Unable to gaze, upon peace
with my squinting pair, of sky hazed blue eyes
© 2017 Jim Davis
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
Too-simple eludes as
too-complex disturbs
the instinct to grasp,
clutching at emptiness
in trembling fear
Hope says, "there is
always Hope,"
A lure to elongate
the reach, further
overbalancing.
*Hope the crafty wolf
stalks a deer in the glade.*
Hope for what?
Acquire what?
Purchase what?
Become what --
that could fulfill the yearning
of the bough for the root?
...that could elucidate its relentless
aspiration skyward?
Oh, but if -- !
freeze at the snap of a twig
All aflutter at the
promise of sweet water
against seeking lips
hungry fools chase
Hope for a taste
Into devil wilderness
exposure threatening
surviving by the teeth.
Reduced to mating behavior,
territoriality, predation --
all else forgotten.
*the measured twitch and
watchful eye fail to outwit
the cunning wolf in wait*
Nowhere we bring ourselves
is safe.
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
Landscape silhouettes
pirouetted off
pockmark lights in the dark;
the city shivers
in its myths and windy whispers,
Just a subtle rumble 'neath his humble feet,
heart aflutter, stuttering
palpitation structure sputtering; the lightless rain
glanced across the window brackets
of the moving train.
Silence yawned across his vapid eyes
like labored lullaby sans interlacing rhyme device -
Home, the beckoning, fulfillment's underlying premise
calling off at every stop
'til seats bowed under weight of emptiness.
Friendless in the long stretch
between conductor's breath,
fresh with mints and benevolence,
punching tickets
with a lonely sickness...
Ah, fitful sleep awaits us
past the sliding doors
and walk to familiar shores,
horizons bleak,
and nothing more.
Locomotive groans
pervade the embers of the gloam
and glitter bright,
against the clutching fingers
of this woeful night.
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 7:38 PM UTC
Little hummingbird
Wings aflutter, heart a-patter, drink
From that sweet flower.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
it would seem
this boat we are in
took on some water
were our hearts too full?
too heavy to bring about
the bouyancy that
drifting at sea requires?
were we paddling with impatience?
that song we sang it had
a cadence that left
little time for reflection
no time to notice
the water lapping and rising at
our own feet
despite what we've been told
rarely is one prepared
for such a trip
after all
who could anticipate
the severe solitude
one discovers
adrift at sea,
hearts unmoored,
souls all afire
all aflutter
sails stormily snapping
and lapping up the
tempestuous wind
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Yesterday morning I awoke like a sparkle.
I rose from my floor mattress and danced and sang!
My clumsy fingers rummaged through the piles of clothing
Making decision a difficult annoyance.
Then finally, dressed simply and breathing heavily,
A knock sounded on my door.
There he was!
A knight so handsome and youthful it made my heart flutter.
So, my heart aflutter and my eyes a sparkle, I took steps
Side by side this gallant knight,
Off to make whatever would be made of that most beautiful day.
~~~~~~~~
The knight and I walked under the trees and
Along the shallow stream.
Walked and talked of many things.
That was the simplest afternoon I can conjure in my mind,
And it was absolutely perfect!
By the end of that afternoon we had already made
A bucket list of adventures for the coming days.
And now,
As I sit on my floor mattress typing away my heart-flutters,
I know I look forward to nothing more than adventuring and discovering
With this handsome youthful gallant knight.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 5:18 AM UTC
Smoky walks the tracks.
Forty paces on the green mile.
Death row.
But Smoky's not afraid.
Black as night, and growing darker
with every step.
Smoky's black eyes aflutter and spark
and notice an elm tree,
so twisted,
it's strangling itself
with rough skin, brown as the dirt it stole it's life from.
The twisted elm watches, but cares not for Smoky's fate.
Smoky wears a robe stained with storm clouds.
With every step he takes, the gravel beneath him ripples.
No doubt, he could walk on water,
not like the son of God,
but, rather,
a water skeeter, light and agile,
with a zen-like lack of interest.
Smoky walks the tracks.
The train is coming.
Smoky steps out of the way,
and continues his trek.
Keeping his cool.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
I have waited in certain landlocked towns,
Near and far, and far from here.
And I have sailed and been in low ports found,
Their inlets clad in salted air.
And I have dreamed on oft spoken of starry nights and on largely unspoken starless nights,
Of select places with opportune and tactless new found faces.
And I have lain out restless and uncomfortably awake,
Hearing human voices shriek and drown,
In salt clad harbor towns,
And heard those specific siren calls of those particular siren girls,
In those inlets, salt clad by the sea.
And still awake I have heard, in those waiting-space landlocked towns,
Curiously, those curious sounds,
Of only human and yet inhumane calls.
Dressed in that specific gauze of an agony-tone,
For that specific landlocked home,
Where drinkers go,
That drunkard’s throne,
And been sullen at that once and forever shoreless drone.
And I have also been, you see, in places left unknown.
And in a daydream I would hear and be heard by almost gasping voices,
From waking and still somehow sleeping and unbelieving men.
Grasping out onto air that has been made thin and further,
Been gasping.
Searching for woefully inaccurate words,
With a woefully inarticulate tongue,
And I have danced and been set atremble by the timbre of your breathe
And then enamored by the resonance of your gasp,
And I have gasped with a tongue set dancing behind lips all aflutter.
In those unutterable places with specifically unknown locations,
I have listened,
Through rock and metal,
Between those landlocked towns and those salt clad harbors,
For the full sound escaped from your trembled lips.
And I have listened, through daydreaming mist veils,
And through known and unknown places,
For that voice that speaks through space and time and rock and metal,
And I have only heard that curious sound of human and inhuman calls,
And I have heard those particular siren calls of those specific siren girls,
And that cry of human voices that shriek and drown.
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC