"gorgons" poems
Avert your eyes
from looking directly
at the monster.
Look only through
that reflective shield,
that glowing rectangle
that parades a
distorted vision of
the objective self,
that which in
dark moments may
suddenly shut off,
revealing one’s face:
inverted, expressionless, petrified—
like when the
mirror of Perseus
at last revealed
Medusa’s horrifying visage.
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 3:19 AM UTC
For me, the naked and the ****
(By lexicographers construed
As synonyms that should express
The same deficiency of dress
Or shelter) stand as wide apart
As love from lies, or truth from art.
Lovers without reproach will gaze
On bodies naked and ablaze;
The Hippocratic eye will see
In nakedness, anatomy;
And naked shines the Goddess when
She mounts her lion among men.
The **** are bold, the **** are sly
To hold each treasonable eye.
While draping by a showman's trick
Their dishabille in rhetoric,
They grin a mock-religious grin
Of scorn at those of naked skin.
The naked, therefore, who compete
Against the **** may know defeat;
Yet when they both together tread
The briary pastures of the dead,
By Gorgons with long whips pursued,
How naked go the sometime ****
4.2k
*We bask in light when morning comes, yet tremble in the night.
Halloween must be the cause to give us such a fright.
Ghosts and goblins haunt the streets where moans and chains abound.
Ghouls and vampires lurk in shadows, scared of holy ground.
Werewolves stalk unwary victims. Frankenstein is loose.
Ogres, trolls and spectral zombies hanging by a noose,
Gorgons with their "stoney" eyes and bats with leathery wings...
Mummies wrapped in yellowed cloth with rotting flesh that clings,
Pirates, gangsters, space invaders, just to name a few,
All in search of "Tricks or Treats"(or just a head...or two).
Beware the time when darkness comes. Be sure the door is locked.
But most of all .... to just be safe ... keep lots of candy stocked.*
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
vague games enable and our liturgies co-mingle in an inkling of the I.
your mind succumbs to the soul. the rabid rain is ironic and the font you spell ' god ' with
is all scrawl and scrumptious. you lump this dream into your dolphin of Delphi
and squeak cute symphonies of deep brood.
you choose your Oblivion.
and that's how Angels kiss. they force the Word through your Animus
and greet your weakness with squinty eyes and Lion's breath.
you're the next best thing since that one thing that had no soul for god to play with.
it never complained. you might look and you might not see
what you're not supposed too. but i know you'll be happy with lemon-drops
and long dark naps.
that's how we do,
like a crispy pillow is a cloud with a lobotomy
and all my barbed wire is wine.
Like i'm the king of unbearable sublime. you anoint the fallen. i spike the punch, judy. you sunshine.
eulogies wet the pavement. darth mauls
the halls of our peril
and the dry
sparrows
you had no love but you had a thing that went thump
when you met her. and some other cocka-mamy thing.
and your narrow view
of the wide ha ha and the mute " **** this "
and why not?
we're all caught in the same frame and the gorgons are massive. you have to elect a hero to laugh at Death with and might get a girl.
you're nothing at all and that infuriates the reality you were dreamt with. you have no kin, but your family hasn't been.... you were unhinged
from the stark grim and the tide pool. why do you think i say things that ain't been language but has always been lingua nova ?
why would i lie ? this is the scepter of the vengeful design and the glee demons of first love sipping from a chalice of lost love
with closed eyes. this is the pier and the ocean. the dime store Picasso hanging the velvet Elvis with the perfect circles
with the little
cube inside...
aching for flamingos.
or not.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 8:09 AM UTC
‘What a piece of work is a man!’
……… ………
And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust’
From Shakespeare, through Hamlet
It rings down to generations
And falls heavily on my ears too
In vain, I attempt to probe into the mystery
Nay, the enigma called man
Both in the silence of my solitude
And in the learned circle of pundits
(Fool…..
Unable to find who you are
Can you venture to say who the other man is?)
Man is a jumble of contradictions,
I know….A hard nut to crack!
So unfathomable, so mysterious
At once a Satan and an angel
To the outer world I am someone
But in the well guarded cellars of my privacy
Aren’t I different?
Hiding my innards to light
As every other man
At times, I feel so proud
Excessively in love with my own image
Like Narcissus, the poor hunter boy
Fated by gods to languish
On the bank of a pond,
Over his own floating image!
However with all my strength within
Do I not feel as helpless as Prometheus bound?
Waiting for a Hercules to come
And save me from my plight
If Prometheus’ ******* was God willed
Mine is self willed…! Is the difference so very crucial?
Sometimes I feel I am Janus
Looking backward and forward
Into my past and my future
Never living in the present
Or am I more a Sisyphus
Eternally rolling a rock over to the hill
From where it keeps falling down
Sometimes I wonder
Amid the splendor, do I not starve?
Like Tantalus of Greece in the pool
Beneath the tree, with the low lying branches of fruits
Constantly eluding his grasp
And the water, ever receding before
He could take a drink!
As a poet how I wish I could
Equate myself with Calliope
Carving my mind on the wax tablet
With stylus, my pen and coloring it with my fancy
Or Orpheus, so skilled in music
That with my sad musings
I can make even Hades weep
And the rocks fall in line
I shudder to be a Medusa
Turning everyone to a stone
With my sinister glance!
Instead, I want to be one of the Graces
And never one among the Gorgons
Pitched in this gallery
Of queer mythological entities
I wonder how I appear to others
And whom I resemble more!
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
Fire breathing gorgons
Consume radical liquids
Fall into poetry repetition
Also sprach Zanabanana
Centered and pressurized
Back-up pushes against
Sphincter.
Antibiotic shortage
Carefully planned
Lower intestinal numbness
Head in the clouds
*** on the ground
I'm right
It hurts.
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 10:39 AM UTC
I'm drunk again
And am thinking of Midas,
With his Golden Touch
And the Gorgons,
With their stone look,
Because everything I touch
Turns to stone.
She found me,
Hanging from the rafters,
The noose wrapped gently
Round my breathing neck
Mason jars of whiskey
And packs of cheap smokes
Wake me back up.
She whispers,
"Never leave me,"
While I wonder if
I am even alive.
I'm lookin' to the rafters
Where I'm pretty sure
I died.
Can't fuckin' move
As everything we had
Now goes to ****
She's cryin' on the floor
Tears mix with blood
'Cause I'm hangin' from those rafters,
Drippin' down from above.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Gorgons in the grasses by my window
Phantoms in the corridors of mind,
Elves and Angels flit amongst the fairies
But Godhead is the hardest thing to find.
Experiments with rationale confound me
Argument, well meaning, leaves me cold,
I've thrashed it out with he who has seen the Holy See
But futility has left me feeling old.
Millions feel the joy of their religion
Base their lives on regimental right,
Alone I meet the day and feel no need to pray,
And stride with independence to the night.
I read your words of beauty for your Maker
I felt the passion living on the page,
I cried for your belief and in so doing, felt relief
For the singer not the song, for me, engaged.
So there, my beauty, lies our living quandary
For you and I the chemistry's the same.
For you with God in hand inhabit my agnostic land
And simultaneously, we exult in falling rain.
Marshalg
To Christine and Anselm, with happiness in having found new friends.
The Pukehana Paradise
Auckland
12 March 2013
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 3:46 AM UTC
she kneels in a fire place
******* off a midnight entity
of deformed shadows
and hinged erections
rickety tickety tin
sang clutching muffin
in Neolithic fires
caressing
tinker toy femurs *** deep
a dark heaven chants
**** ghosts and gorgons
while sea witches and dwindling waves
like goat steps
edge twilight princess
Zex depraved lord
and lick my lips
crucify her spread wide
coiling vacant maidens
yielding angel hemic tides
in rituals of **********
skinned on scarlet pavement
as she is dragged
on her knees
where moaning thighs perch
on nailed sticks
like white picket fences
and invisible doors burn
she communes with oracles of lust
that incinerate rafts of solitude
windows slam shut
like shuddering robes of thunder
and a headless god
pours her glistening tears
over his arterial bludgeon
resurrection of eros
in the Golgotha
of swarming incubi
she called to hell
i am prey
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 12:28 PM UTC
We bask in light when morning comes
yet tremble in the night.
Halloween must be the cause
to give us such a fright.
Ghosts and goblins haunt the streets
where moans and chains abound.
Gouls and vampires lurk in shadows
scared of holy ground.
Werewolves stalk unwary victims.
Frankenstein is loose.
Ogres, trolls and spectral zombies
hanging by a noose
Gorgons with their "stoney" eyes
and bats with leathery wings
Mummies wrapped in yellowed cloth
with rotting flesh that clings
Pirates, gangsters, space invaders
just to name a few
All in search of "Tricks or Treats"
(or just a head ... or two).
Beware the time when darkness comes.
Be sure the door is locked.
But most of all, to just be safe
keep lots of candy stocked.
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 7:41 AM UTC
he roams my mind like a tourist in a pretty town,
he’s been looking at my past and the scars,
he only loves the pretty things,
the flavescent leaves on the ground,
the flowers blooming by the riverside.
the red skies and orange sunsets,
the stentorian voices of the singers by the bar,
the pretty hookers standing near the theater.
he can’t go everywhere,
scared to enter the dark alleys,
horrified after seeing the carcass of my past selves,
covering his ears as the bombs explode near the woods,
running away in fear after seeing gorgons step out of the water.
an afraid young man
running for his life
from my mind
because he was scared that he’ll only love one mind forever
that he won’t get to stomp in the grounds of other minds,
that the dark alleys he saw
will welcome him instead
and the gorgons
will greet him with smiles on their faces.
the hookers by the theater will flash him,
the singers’ voices will echo in his ear.
the skies will beg him to stay,
the leaves will remind him of us,
he will stare longer at the scars.
he’ll feel guilty about my past
but he will leave
because that’s what he does
every single time.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
with citation of Aeschylus, when Clytemnestra's ghost
enters Apollo's temple seeing himself slain among
the gorgons, wingless congregation,
the effort of matricide with hands washed in menthol
rather than water... with citation of Eumindes
everyone might unearth a pyramid of giza
as source of just divine intervention,
with zeus and the sphinx
(riddle-hound of wisdom), hades
and the cerberus (shadow-grasp of a snail's
heaving hour)....
because who'd wish to encourage
congregations of necrophilia accepted
with over-towering spectacles
of ******* rectangles high up to count
100 levels with only one room
a burial chamber later blinded to
provoke squirting sulphuric toads into motion?
as asked: where are the sneezing beasts
of gesundheit applaud that might encourage
rather than prove to be a Pharaoh's cursing?
i mean, i might just be a tourist rather than
an archaeologist, yawning admiring chiselled marble
into picasso shapes... and i might not be a grave-digger,
but then why leave a dead body with so much
treasure worthy of defending as if you were living?
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 11:25 PM UTC
you got those eyes from the gorgons themselves
big and begging
to be seen
the pools of coal abyss are your pupils and they form into
cerberus's frothy, unpure mouths
gnashing and howling until the
bloodletting roars
devour me
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
You are a wicked woman.
You have the gorgons stare.
You turn my soul to stone,
with every hateful glare.
Every hybrid moment.
In every waking day.
You always try to prevent.
Reasons
for me to stay.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:25 AM UTC
Should you fall asleep thirsty, your soul will wander
to quench your physical desire.
Your soul will sample from filth-
Mud puddles rampant with pus and disease,
filling your stomach with **** stained liquid.
Unfiltered fluid flooding your gut,
poking holes through it's lining.
In the mire is a tadpole fashioned from disgust.
It plops with a squelch into your bloodstream
and swims up to your brain.
There, it releases it's toxins.
The tadpole turns to smog and pollutes you,
it expands like a gas; omnipresent.
After it's poisonous clouds have filled
every space in your mind, it rematerializes.
One tadpole is now one million.
There is no room so they gnaw.
They gnaw through your skull
And they pour out your body.
They smother you.
Should you fall asleep thirsty,
your dreams will wander.
It will find the most hideous pool -
a bath for harpies and Gorgons -
and drink from it.
These ponds will call to your thirst -
like a siren calls to stray sailors -
and show you that you have no place here.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
What a way to hold the knife,
and see for yourself
that it is all not the way you think it was.
You are in control.
The Fates have given up,
The Muses are yours to use,
And the Gorgons are all petrified.
Fear not, fear not!
This is not Jason’s tale
or the story of Hercules
It is just one girl
who learned to get up in the morning,
and see the light.
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC
They say the pen is mightier than the sword
as is Jah mightier than the Lord
but to ignore the truth you can ill afford
for life is your just reward
so sit back, listen and press record
as i school you like a teacher
a spiritual leader
not a priest but a preacher.
It is you who is blind as i dont need my eyes to see
I use my heart and mind combined to set me free
from mankind's chains of apathy
so let me inject the truth into your vital organs
or else turn to stone like mighty gorgons
do on to others as you wish done
respect your brothers, sisters, daughters and sons
only have love in your heart
for the truth I impart.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
1
Around my great table, long dead faces from my past
Chew the empty morsels
From the golden days we thought’d last.
But we’re no longer immortals,
Running through the eternal glade.
And now as I look closer, my friends start to fade.
2
But sat in different places, they again reappear
Though now with their aspects pale
They don’t seem to be really here.
So I begin another tale,
One I know they’ve all heard before,
It’s met with a Gorgons quiet, when I’d expected a roar!
3
Now before me, there is Stevens; sweetest of them all,
Rise, and with a great effort,
Try to summon the call.
Yet nothing is heard, apart my thought,
Singing over to itself the one line
‘Please, stay my friends, more wine, more wine, more wine.’
4
And suddenly I see Evans, a foe more than a friend.
He was still the same small ******
That he was from his beginning to end.
As I was not actually certain,
Whether or not a ghost can digest,
I thought I’d answer my own question, by stabbing him in the chest.
5
Evans just carried on talking, in that dry nasal tone,
Always elucidating,
About all that he had ever known.
And I remembered how elating
It was when I heard he had died
Everyone else cried madly, as I just quietly smiled
6
But even faithful Evans, fades now from my view.
And as a smile on his lips died there
It’s then that I really knew,
That I am forever cast out here,
In the mind’s castle, I wander alone,
The place that’s my prison, and now my only home.
7
So they look on me now, with pity;
And even that is leaving their weak glare.
They are turning to water before me
And I can only stare.
Oh, how I long for that time of laughter,
And to dip once more in that water.
8
But whatever did happen to those days,
When we were touched by flight.
Where is the life that we lived all ways
From dawn through to the night?
It all went past me in a moment,
Leaving only this sweet torment.
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 2:12 PM UTC
The gorgons were hideous with the gaze of stone
The sister medusa was the only mortal
The grey women with one eye and one tooth
Now one eye less
Told him the way to the hyperborean land
Therein lay the soon to be headless beast
Who could then no longer share her horrible stare
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
He told me that the world was good.
Maybe was carved from ball of wood.
Sadly 'twas invaded by wood worms.
Who spent hours daily nibbling.
However: it isn't really wooden.
Despite the pain 'tis really good, good as gold.
Our world protected, loved so dearly.
Close to ending,
Only nearly.
Protected by the word of various lords,
And mythical souls.
Hercules in full support,
The weight of the world on his shoulders.
Heracles despatching lions, well only one to my knowledge.
Gods and prophets will do their best.
Adam and Eve conceived their sons and Noah's floods and Lot's salt pillar.
Angels soothe minds of the troubled.
While gorgons, witnessed turn to stone, their snakes are hungry their dying for rats.
Samaritans will save the world, not just lonesome travellers.
And Jesus, he turned water into wine, not mine, loaves and fishes to feed them all.
Let us pray.
(C) LIVVI
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 1:49 PM UTC
you were a wild child
with a wet sticky ****
you played with it often
on a pillow you'd grunt
then mama betrayed
licentious you
with ruinous morals
don't play with your goo
girls keep their legs crossed
and don't talk to boys
*** is for grown ups
and ***** aren't toys
your hardened your heart
kept your *** in a box
to be a good girl
grew cold like a pox
emergent depression
sadness and cold
you had to say no
though the boys where so bold
soon there was rage
for no reason at all
your hair turned to snakes
cause boys wouldn't call
gorgons are demons
that turn men to stone
from endless denial
here comes the crone
then comes the fetish
she aches to be dead
she poofs out her ***
begs, please take my head
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
Among the Gorgons that counted three
Touched by comeliness being mortal only she
Beauty that in awe of the universe bowed down
Her glorious sumptuous hair a glowing grace
More exquisite than Aphrodite’s star-studded crown
Pursued and seduced by Poseidon was fair Medusa
The God of the jade seas and cerulean oceans deep
In the sacred temple of Athena
His unrelenting passion for her was consecrated
And evermore in her submission would she weep
Their love spill upon white sacred stone floors
Insulted and in her anger
Athena cursed Medusa to times end and in the word’s, cruelty seep
A serpent's tongue and venomous black eyes replaced the orbs of blue
But behind the monster’s mask
A rare beauty never more wakened would sleep
Writhing snakes replaced the queenly vision of her hair
Hideous, grotesque an unhuman crone
A horrifying sight to be shunned
If to look upon her any fool dare
Her darting eyes turn all to stone
The ill-fated union of Medusa and Poseidon yielded two children,
Chrysaor and Pegasus
Who sprung from her neck upon death
When with but a stroke of cunning Perseus shining blade
Her head severed from her body fell to the floor
To be presented to Athena in homage and honor as a gift.
All Rights Reserved @Tammy M Darby Nov 17, 2019
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Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 12:57 PM UTC
Overcoming my circumstance, it’s been a bit of a dance for a few steps forward.
I'm still behind my power curve; I've been walking at a dead sprint.
Like complimentary breath mints, A false sort of fancy.
Chancy to say, but ill bear the egg, I plan to supersede my roots.
Boots dug deep, ill crack the chains that hold me down.
Take wing with the winds, refuse the lead weighted crown.
Though it is painted gold, it’s a fools goal to hold.
Wrapped in the fold of ones wings, is all a soul needs to sing.
What dreams can come if you but dare.
Triumph over the gorgons stare.
Through many traps on the stairway to beyond poverty.
carrying nothing wont bother me, as long as I laugh happily.
Over come where I'm from, that’s goal number one.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC