"beguilement" 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
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
~
*Step into the moment
with bated breath,
There will come
the beguilement
and whispered shadows at play,
they seem to congeal around
conflagration of wills
and spirits considered outré.
And if it should rain
within these walls,
we'll advance south and sneak
under cover.
Fingers will find,
lips will linger and remind.
It will be a slow
recovery this time.
The places we travel go beyond
the arms reach,
they war for supremacy,
they alter and spasm,
they're random, but hover
between us in unity.
This dance we make
is an intimate ballet,
this push and pull
a blissful menagerie,
a wrinkle in time
we call ecstasy.
In kisses christened as luminaries,
appointing our own ceiling
— a mural painted in the keen
colors of craving.
The years of such sweet communion
have built this shelter, this nest,
and here together we rest.
And we are no less surrendering
to them than straddling the heavens
— the gauze of time,
timber and tranquility enmeshed,
and wishing it never ends.*
~
May 24, 2021
May 24, 2021 at 1:54 PM UTC
Fierce is god impenitrable
glad glad glad there is a
Fire up the street called Heaven
There is
A woman wearing only one shoe who is taking
an exhaustive drag of her smoke in the
early morning where birds are
still heard in
!!!!!!cities
A hymnal a
heralded nest of savory berries A quartzstone is trapped in time a myth is made more ridiculous when proven real
Continents wither where the flies glue their
regal canvases on downtrodden earth (missing Pangea)
Or smiles everlasting smiles meanwhile
(Blonde tongues wearing fashioned wigs)
in constant state of beguilement
The Neanderthalic stones will be unforgiving to the REVEREND who has collapsed through his song the song of lead pipedream fantasies of sexless dogma YEAH monkhood yeah Ghat burning holes in twilit schools of thought or no thought at all
I can
hear the collective Faerie outcry that silence has presented itself HEAvier to their wicked careless bodies ok I am innocent of love I love your innocent love I am careless(of their wicked careless bodies)
ResemblingA swans actual duty to die
a swan lies a swan lay
like an even more beautiful swan
on even more beautiful swanny grass
To die by swanlightSUN and MOON white like the swan where we soon listen closely to the swansong a celestialLOVELY
rhythm of gilded forest (((((orchestrals
The swan leaves us in happiness of bright groggy light
O (of which in chaos of day I am again innocent)
The Reverend's desperate gaspings into a micro -phone for a macro - cosmic prayer idol o idol where is your capability for worship idol o where is my chinstrap o idol where is ****** youth or the romanticized eternal SUMMERS I sing
O bible O cloudland O where is your telephone operator is they deceased by their own fragrant holines? The church
Watches the Reverend neverend his television routine of clamoring death odes
Watches his senility come like an implorical shadow outline watches a demon lick its dreamless lips beyond the periphery of godless dreams
Watches
Reverend lose his sight in anInstant
HeWAILSheWAILSandWAILS can you hear it Thomas De Quincey can you hear the sandbeaches ringing more clearly than the ChurchBells or the ****** Pagoda for torture /
his soul is to sleep in the (mossy)mountain the fire of the (forever)street called HEAVEN the mountain column supporting the sky(swan)gate of heavenHeaven!welcome
to:
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
Flittering feathers write sonnets
in soaring frequencies;
taking in the ocean at once,
I felt ripples brought to standstill,
damped by second's refrain,
curled back into the
picturesque blue written ahead,
but
no cloud harbours the ceiling,
no late words shown, jotted down
by the
indifferent and
invariably disappearing breeze.
The latterwork of these days took it up,
and hung it out
on lines stretched across skies and time,
betraying tender surfeit, in moments
torn out,
and,
leaving only
vague traces of
woodworn prose,
spilling out my last sentiments:
*"we, once,
were alive,
if only for a moment."*
In dreams she holds small collections
of sandy flowers,
above the shoreline,
as the dichotomous cluster takes theirs,
behind a fragmentary grain
in the blacksmith's hide;
written, again, are those seasick letters,
wrung out
in the dead heat of the forge,
the demands of strangers,
in stone buildings by the fireplace,
electric heater, off,
the inbetween reeling
of slightened accomplishments,
the scent of oil,
left over, from the husk of noon.
Miss and want, over again,
missing beguilement in afternoon's repose.
"come back...",
but she ain't the one gone.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 7:12 AM UTC
these are but sagas for lovers and haters in love
who love to hate but are in hate with love
these poems
of couples who exist to exist
and to redefine Is
these are but stories for the sons of bleary eyed fathers
who tread the same threads across dilated garters
and heroic stoics be proud!
these are but fables of folly
and of transparent whim
of hunters’ beguilement
of huntresses’ ****
of mechanical males who practise old tricks
these are but tales of maidens and heads
of neverending aims nevertheless transfixed
these are but poems
of Envy and Trust
poems that unbe the unfair
for the sake of unlove
and while mechanical feelers probe seas of flesh dealers
and reels of film cast doubts of Enough
these are still
but poems of Trust
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 8:11 PM UTC
.
.
.
Hello ex-Hubby,
I meant the handsome dystopian boy,
currently, I'm writing you the sin
I remembered that craved the most,
when I dared to
penetrate my colorful virtue spot again.
to ride the last whole night car with you
in a hurry,
and forget about the evil you,
hating women, dressed in your dark flurry.
I embraced those tiny white palms in my head.
when they refused to touch me back and ride ahead.
instead of losing interest
and forget about reverence you physically,
I kept my fingers crossed secretly,
under the car seat,
next to the prestigious scent of yours.
Your North African amber eyes
that refused to match mine,
to get lost between their depressed universes and shine.
I prayed along this magnificent time,
to God so he could with his 99 mercies
make you fully mine.
The lava that burst divinely
out of your Tunisian delicate betrayed my senses
and lit the full hungriness towards your beguilement.
I encouraged my half stability
to make it through
a little bit far from you,
my hallowed brew
with every single meter that we've passed
I fluctuate amid the idea of capturing you devilishly or sacredly, between making some blood contracts with the devil itself,
or donate as much money as I could,
for the sake of being together,
burring ourselves on an old bookshelf.
trichotillomania; the colorless ferocious ogre,
that used to assault my bright aesthetic soul,
as a tight fatal choker
to remind it chastely,
of the imperfection portrait of mine.
and pursue its pride with a fiery scourge,
matted with brine
when I started to rise my jaded fingers
to covet those golden cheeks.
I failed!
the deficiency is capturing me
The keloid I hated the most
as I carry my dramatic havoc away,
a little bit away,
from your inner fray
pathetically, I turned my whole feelings
against my well ignoring the idea of
love Subliminal and its spell
facing the windscreen
that harshly afford me a great frustration
trying to cover my hope with trash sack and provocation.
I failed,
escaping the life blackmail,
convincing me to practically disbelief on you.
But I kept myself as holy as I dared to.
despite of my Viscera's beating,
crumbling and shrinking.
I kept my grin harmfully, blinking.
under your realm seeking for a light of your anger that will
console me again. and bring me home.
Happy Birthday!
.
.
.
Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 12:03 AM UTC
Thank you Boxed-in Home Office
For a decidedly devilish diversion
An unexpected beguilement
Conveyed to a time and place
Almost misplaced in memory’s stream
With Wm. S. informing S. Dakota
Whispering to writers
Of language nearly lost
Discourse both dandy and dangerous
Characters familiar
Plot’s circle elliptical
Storytelling respected
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
In the attic
Swallowed ether
lust on the highest shelf
Down the well
Engorged consolation
salt discharged for the self
In the mirror
Mute refutation
the evasion-led sublime
Up the tower
Disseminated bile
the beguilement of the grime
Jan 7, 2025
Jan 7, 2025 at 2:44 AM UTC
got
up yesterday
and took
a ****
straight into a
can of heinz baked
beans
then placed
back into the freezer.
some days down
the line
an acquantence
found the beans
and took a bite
and complimented my culinary ability.
branches
were swining outside
from the coming
hurricane
and few
lizards
rolled underneat the carpet so as to escape the elements
and absorb the warmth.
suzy
is still crazy,
but she died in december.
george is ugly
like a cancerous bat-faced
ectomorph
but has a heart of gold.
larry is just a ***
and he knows it.
but some nights
i still cuddle
with dawn
and speak to the mermaids that kiss me goodnight
as i stroke myself
to sleep
in a dull
memory
and voided
receipt that is the 'hour of beguilement'.
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 12:54 AM UTC
As clear as the placid water his soul was
To hell with the devils, they vitiated his presence
Living in a world of dreams all the time
He never realised when the clock struck nine
Plagued by his own demons, he made a tower of miseries
Although he wore a smile but it was only beguilement
To the deluded creatures which danced around him.
In the scorching heat of the desert, a frigid separation had seeped in
The reasons which he himself was oblivious about
But this is how the state of things are supposed to be
So hazy.. so murky.. Confusion befuddles this issue
Does the nexus exist or was it just another series of co-incidental events?
Even if Lucifer ran all the way he wouldn't enlighten the dungeons of his heart
For they have been scarred beyond measure with a myriad of hapless events
Still standing in the queue waiting to exterminate his soul.
The assault has begun. Who would win?
The wicked sisters of Fate who have been conspiring since eternity or
The miniscule luck which has been showered onto him?
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
Death undoes itself like a woman undoes her dress
With knowing look and shrewd-salt of beguilement
Of supple shoulders and bared back, of life shimmying
Down the legs of the longest dark road of disappearing.
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 2:47 PM UTC
maiden mania arisen from cider coma and scion standards
an arcane demise disguised as a sacred fervor
to be heralded, worshipped in reverent *******
crowned in rancid radiance, adorned in dripping diadem of deception
a creed to cede rationality for abject amnesia
conquest of beguilement lauded as an archaic aphrodisiac
severing vitality, diagnoses of impalpable anemia
the seraphic serenade of drained sensibilities
insurmountable pandemic of the golden age
arson abloom, amber born of a faceless flame
cease the sane, feeble encore of choral chaos
bemoaning the heart, harlot of charm
a descent into the depths of illusory projections
the gateway to a breathless romance
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 4:36 PM UTC
Thoughts of simple days bring torment
.Remember being a kid and enjoyment
.Appalling how its now all irrelevant
.Peel back the truth and circumvent
.Pleased to be here, but discontent
.Endure a life stripped of consent
.Delusions of grandeur disorient
.Its easy to be deviant
.Not so much benevolent
.Mediate to avoid feeling desolate
.Yesterdays gone, thats a definite
.More days pass, feel more desperate
.Implored how you became insolent
.Never again to feel beguilement
Dwelling in past, brings only lament
-Ajm
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 6:36 PM UTC