"hermes" poems
Like flipped coin midair
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle
Two ends of a spectrum, Möbius strip
In a room together,
Maxwell’s demon, revolving door
Cancer and chemo
Like life and death
Only one can be
The next is inevitable
Like an election
Only one figurehead may speak for a governing body
Like the seasons
Change is expected
Like a cat left to its own devices
Guaranteed to scare itself after a given time
Man tries to conquer for comforts sake
Mercurial reactions
Like elements under catalyst
Electron orbitals
Exchange positive core
Theory of relativity
A choice of determining
Accuracy of position or velocity
Hermes, deity of mine
Masculine and feminine
Ruler of I
Relieve the war of the immortal twins
Gemini
Battling my heart and mind
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,
a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,
the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:
Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.
As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.
With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.
Now, fully grown, this super-no-
This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.
She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.
Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.
Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Twelve Olympians, to rule as they choose.
Twelve Olympians, we'll start with Zeus.
God of sky, thunder, lightning, law.
Ruled the Olympians with the justice he saw.
Commonly referred to as the Father.
Next is Poseidon, God of Water.
"A tamer of horses and a saviour of ships,"
Said in one of Homer's hymns.
Next is Hera, Queen of the Gods, and of women.
Giving mothers a carriage, and marriage to men.
Next is Demeter, Goddess of Harvest, giving fertility.
Hades captured her daughter, Persephone, and her virginity.
Then there's Athena, Goddess of Wisdom.
Lept out of Zeus' head, and earned her throne in the kingdom.
Apollo is next, God of Music, Poetry, Light.
Also capable of bringing plague and plight.
Artemis, Goddess of Moon and Hunt, and Apollo's twin.
Guided mothers through childbirth, a sacred ******
Also, beloved Aphrodite, Goddess of Love.
Lover of Ares, who favored battles and blood.
Only Hephaestus and Aphrodite were wed.
Fire, metalwork, art of sculpture he led.
Also, there's Hermes, a god bringing word.
Among other things, guide to the Underworld.
Finally, there's Hesta, Goddess of the Hearth.
Feeding families and serving the home with warmth.
Twelve Olympians, to rule the sky.
Twelve Olympians, give your memory a try.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 9:10 PM UTC
I hear thunder
*No you don't,
The voices in your head
want some more*
You're lying!
I am aware of my blunders.
I can hear thunder!
*No, you can't
you're just deaf
and without a plan*
You're just inviting trouble
Everyone is trying to hurt me.
My only defence is the thunder
I hear it. I feel it. Zeus loves me.
Mountains tremble in fear.
He is ready with his bolt.
It's a message
you don't see it
yet
but when thunder shakes the ground
you shall hold your breath.
*Talk about Hermes, Apollo
and everyone else.
The thunder shall do us no harm.
Olympus was never safe.
Aphrodite knows how to sell her body
There will be war, my friend.
The titans will rise.
Kronos will escape from Tartarus
and attack in stealth.*
You dummkopf,
you have no idea what you have been talking
Don't argue over Father of God's bolt!
God of the skies.
Traveling by air? You might die.
Poseidon can make your way back difficult
This behaviour of yours was very typical.
*You ignore your mind when it plays tricks on you
Oh dear, you really are a fool*
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
One puts all nature into mourning,
One lights her like a flaring sun —
What whispers ‘Burial’ to the one
Cries to the other, ‘Life and Morning.’
The unknown Hermes who assists
The role of Midas to reverse,
And makes me by a subtle curse
The saddest of all alchemists —
By him, my paradise to hell,
And gold to **** is changed too well.
The clouds are winding-sheets, and I,
uncover corpses loved of old;
and where the shores celestial die
I carve vast tombs against the sky.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
"Under the flag
Of each his faction, they to battle bring
Their embryon atoms." - Milton
WELCOME joy, and welcome sorrow,
Lethe's **** and Hermes' feather;
Come to-day, and come to-morrow,
I do love you both together!
I love to mark sad faces in fair weather;
And hear a merry laugh amid the thunder;
Fair and foul I love together.
Meadows sweet where flames are under,
And a giggle at a wonder;
Visage sage at pantomine;
Funeral, and steeple-chime;
Infant playing with a skull;
Morning fair, and shipwreck'd hull;
Nightshade with the woodbine kissing;
Serpents in red roses hissing;
Cleopatra regal-dress'd
With the aspic at her breast;
Dancing music, music sad,
Both together, sane and mad;
Muses bright and muses pale;
Sombre Saturn, Momus hale; -
Laugh and sigh, and laugh again;
Oh the sweetness of the pain!
Muses bright, and muses pale,
Bare your faces of the veil;
Let me see; and let me write
Of the day, and of the night -
Both together: - let me slake
All my thirst for sweet heart-ache!
Let my bower be of yew,
Interwreath'd with myrtles new;
Pines and lime-trees full in bloom,
And my couch a low grass-tomb.
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Far too many tides have you held him, Calypso, now let him go:
thus commands Athene daughter of Zeus, She who cannot stand his wails
any more. The fleet-footed Hermes delivers the writ of the heavens.
Does the wail of a mere mortal trouble the mighty Athene more than
the heart of her kin? Will you Hermes not accept a bribe and tell Her you
never found me? That Calypso's home is too hard to find on sea?
The will of Zeus cannot be altered, bow or the bolt will make you kneel.
Twenty years has he suffered, let him go this prisoner of his deeds. Eternity
awaits you: while his soul, death. Let him not regret his life in afterlife.
Thus did I leave on high-tide who steal to my own palace like a thief.
Twenty years play in my mind, but the strongest still is Telemachus's smile.
I leave her who cared so much to win my heart yet only the Zephyr -
Brought me cheer, that carried the smell of home and Penelope fair.
Here I leave the immortal who will die for me: for her who I know not if she
loves me yet. Who Athene brings don't fail me in life, even if they falter.
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 2:38 PM UTC
I will love you seven days a week.
I will tell you tales, and love you as we speak.
I will love you today,
And I will love you more each day.
I will love you like Monday.
Like how the Moon loves to kiss the bay.
Like what happened on July 20, 1969,
I will take the risk like my life is on the line.
Because this day will be the start,
Of a one giant leap for my heart.
I will love you like Tuesday.
Like how Ares loves to slay.
I will fight for you till the end of the week,
And claim you as the prize that I seek.
Because even the God of War,
Lost the battle to the one he adore.
I will love you like Wednesday.
Like how Hermes loves to play.
To your heart, I will become a guide.
Everything that you'll need, I will provide.
Every problem we will outwit.
We will face it together, we won't quit.
I will love you like Thursday.
Like how Thor loves to throw his hammer away.
I'll try to be perfect like him,
Even though I am weak and I am slim.
And when our love meets Ragnarok,
I will remind you how I love you again like an alarm clock.
I will love you like Friday.
Like how Freya loves her beauty to be portray.
On this day I will adore your beauty,
I'll touch and give pleasure to your body.
I'll bring you gifts and other thing,
And I'll hope that one day you'll wear that diamond ring.
I will love you like Saturday.
Like how Cronus loves to eat a new-borns buffet.
How I hope I won't suffer the same fate,
Because did you know what happened to this mate?
I promise not to be a Cronus.
I'll love you and our children as a bonus.
I will love you like Sunday.
Like how the Sun loves to give us a brand new day.
This may be the end of the week,
But my love for you won't end, this I speak.
For I love you seven days a week,
And I'll end everyday with a kiss on your cheek.
Dec 25, 2017
Dec 25, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
XVIII. TO HERMES (12 lines)
(ll. 1-9) I sing of Cyllenian Hermes, the Slayer of Argus, lord
of Cyllene and Arcadia rich in flocks, luck-bringing messenger of
the deathless gods. He was born of Maia, the daughter of Atlas,
when she had made with Zeus, -- a shy goddess she. Ever she
avoided the throng of the blessed gods and lived in a shadowy
cave, and there the Son of Cronos used to lie with the rich-
tressed nymph at dead of night, while white-armed Hera lay bound
in sweet sleep: and neither deathless god nor mortal man knew it.
(ll. 10-11) And so hail to you, Son of Zeus and Maia; with you I
have begun: now I will turn to another song!
(l. 12) Hail, Hermes, giver of grace, guide, and giver of good
things! (31)
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I am the Bird of Hermes,
I devoured my own wings,
And that is how I keep myself tamed.
Like a dark ghost you haunt me,
Wherever I go, your memories stalk me,
You think you knew me,
But the reality is far from the fantasy,
You have just seen the worst in me,
How would you look at me now?
A piller of strength,
One, with dangerous potential,
in the end, it's all sequential
Part of the tragedy is that life is unforgetful,
So strong that others fear my potential,
So dark and timid, yet so calm it offsets,
the storm that goes where I go,
To the point where I have to bite my wings,
And stop myself from soaring,
Cause this is not the story of Icarus,
But of the Fallen Bird that outgrew the master,
Yes, I am the Bird of Hermes,
And I devoured my own wings,
So that I remain tamed.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
Baucis and Philemon,
Elderly souls, never empty of
Love,
Opened their doors for two strangers,
Whom
Unbeknownst to them, originated from
Above.
Zues and Hermes, cloaked in the robes of the
Poor,
Were turned away from every household,
Until they rapped on Baucis and Philemon's
Door.
"Come in, come in, shed your cloaks, and warm your hands,
Baucis,
Go!
Use our last loaves, grab the roast, the ham!"
Never mind their
Poverty
Never mind their
Nearly empty
Pantry and Cupboards
Baucis and Philemon possessed the rarest trait,
One the God's most
Coveted.
And while the two strangers ate their foods, and consumed their
Wine,
Baucis noted their cups never lowered beneathe the
Brim Line.
"God's... Divine!"
Cried the two elderly
Lovers.
"Follow us up the hill, Baucis, Philemon,
Do not look back as you climb,
Only to each other."
The two followed the Gods, still cloaked in the garb of strangers,
Never looking back at their village
Below.
Until, reaching the top, and turning back, their eyes didn't fall back upon their
Home.
Zues had called forth a flood, sent to destroy the once ungrateful
Village,
But where Baucis and Philemons cottage once lay,
A beautiful temple had risen from the filthy
Sullage.
Their wish to take care of the temple was swiftly
Granted,
As was their second wish, one that was almost
Demanded.
"I must die, as soon as my love does, I can't ever be without her."
The rest of their lives were spent glorifying the Gods for their kindness and love,
And when the time came for them to take their last
Breath,
Squeezed hands and warm souls crossed the River Styx,
And their broken and withered bodies were
Left.
The wrinkles on their
Skin,
Were made brown, and beautiful
Again
As their flesh turned to bark, and their hair to
Leaves,
The two elderly lovers, became intertwining
Trees.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
XXIX. TO HESTIA (13 lines)
(ll. 1-6) Hestia, in the high dwellings of all, both deathless
gods and men who walk on earth, you have gained an everlasting
abode and highest honour: glorious is your portion and your
right. For without you mortals hold no banquet, -- where one
does not duly pour sweet wine in offering to Hestia both first
and last.
(ll. 7-10) (33) And you, slayer of Argus, Son of Zeus and Maia,
messenger of the blessed gods, bearer of the golden rod, giver of
good, be favourable and help us, you and Hestia, the worshipful
and dear. Come and dwell in this glorious house in friendship
together; for you two, well knowing the noble actions of men, aid
on their wisdom and their strength.
(ll. 12-13) Hail, Daughter of Cronos, and you also, Hermes,
bearer of the golden rod! Now I will remember you and another
song also.
3.4k
Our mother, Gaia, shall never die
Though for us I cannot speak
When Terra does turn her back to our kind
Our might shall seem so meek
Roaring flames do lick her skin
While Chaos’ storms do rage
But Mother Earth will retreat within
And turn to a blank new page.
Zeus will fall when the skies go black
His wife, Hera, to follow when families dissolve
Once the gods fall there’ll be no way back
And hubris will be our final resolve.
Chronus may falter when there’s nobody alive
To observe the passage of hours
When the clocks have all stopped,
Gears unturning under toppled clock towers
No grandfathers left to chime.
But Gaia will live on in sleep so bereft
Long after we’re lost to time.
With no men to wage wars, Ares will fade
Athena too as innovation runs dry
Aphrodite may weep when there’s no love to be made
Hermes, when there’s nowhere to fly
And though our sun will live past our end,
There’ll be no chariot of gold
No homes, no hearths for Hestia to tend
And no music for Apollo to behold
We have long lost one of the faces
Of Artemis, the huntress under moonlight’s reign
And civilization (so-called) now erases
Pan, the wild god, and his sacred domain
What next, I now ask, shall we bid our farewell?
What aspect of humanity lost?
As we stumble along nearer to Hell
Whom shall be the next forgot?
But fear thee not, for life’s most precious gift
is the transience, the temporal nature of Earth
All will change, all will shift
and perhaps a different Cosmos may birth.
Once the stardust settles, a new something to arrive
And we shall perhaps there meet once again
Tied by fresh cords of fate to share new lives.
And all the while, she’s waited for us
Watching and loving those souls immortal
Taking new forms now from different dust
She’ll rejoice and rebirth the primordial
They will rise and then fall and eventually make way
For the pantheon of a new universe to arise
Perhaps not all will look the same--
But close enough for essence to find.
Sep 5, 2023
Sep 5, 2023 at 3:54 PM UTC
What on Earth deserves our trust ?
Youth and Beauty both are dust.
Long we gathering are with pain,
What one moment calls again.
Seven years childless, marriage past,
A Son, a son is born at last :
So exactly lim'd and fair.
Full of good Spirits, Meen, and Air,
As a long life promised,
Yet, in less than six weeks dead.
Too promising, too great a mind
In so small room to be confin'd :
Therefore, as fit in Heav'n to dwell,
He quickly broke the Prison shell.
So the subtle Alchimist,
Can't with Hermes Seal resist
The powerful spirit's subtler flight,
But t'will bid him long good night.
And so the Sun if it arise
Half so glorious as his Eyes,
Like this Infant, takes a shrowd,
Buried in a morning Cloud.
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Evermore has man searched for God,
the one who lives forever,
reaching upward towards the sun,
Icarus smitten with metallic rod.
Evermore has man dreamed of eternal life,
mixing potions,
magnum opus,
man or monster under knife.
Evermore has man sought immunity,
medical perfection,
telomeres with regeneration,
society given a longer unity.
Evermore has man longed for the paranormal,
vampires and immortal beasts,
fireside stories fit for fear,
portals to the imagination.
*The bird of Hermes,
is my name,
eating my wings,
to make me tame.*
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:42 PM UTC
Thou metamorphic god!
Who mak'st the straight Olympus thy abode,
Hermes to subtle laughter moving,
Apollo with serener loving,
Thou demi-god also!
Who dost all the powers of healing know;
Thou hero who dost wield
The golden sword and shield,--
Shield of a comprehensive mind,
And sword to wound the foes of human kind;
Thou man of noble mould!
Whose metal grows not cold
Beneath the hammer of the hurrying years;
A fiery breath doth blow
Across its fervid glow,
And still its resonance delights our ears;
Loved of thy brilliant mates,
Relinquished to the fates,
Whose spirit music used to chime with thine,
Transfigured in our sight,
Not quenched in death's dark night,
They hold thee in companionship divine.
O autocratic muse!
Soul-rainbow of all hues,
Packed full of service are thy bygone years;
Thy winged steed doth fly
Across the starry sky,
Bearing the lowly burthens of thy tears.
I try this little leap,
Wishing that from the deep,
I might some pearl of song adventurous bring.
Despairing, here I stop,
And my poor offering drop,--
Why stammer I when thou art here to sing?
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They bribed me with promises of Audis and poverty reduction.
A six-figure salary, insurance, and free weekends.
They lured me with Prada bags, Chanel Shades and scarves by Hermes.
Vacations in Nice, transits in Paris, and business trips to Beijing.
They said I could meet the Dalai Lama, Bill Gates and the Queen of England,
have wine with Sarkozy, break bread with Al Gore, and kiss Prince William.
They dangled real men, real love and post-marital affairs in front of me
and gave me dreams of seven husbands and no divorces.
They convinced me to grow up and walk across the stage,
and their promises made me smile as I crossed over to the other side.
Today, I lay in my hammock wishing they’d promised me a job as well.
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 11:22 AM UTC
Anyone
who does not aid you
to be the Character you are
only helps to water you down-
to sell you out to their world.
Moreover, anyone
who discourages you
from being your Character
isn't worthy of your attention;
they are an enemy of your creative potential,
that is to say that they are destructive
to the you that would be;
the you that could be-
perhaps should be.
**Be a Freak.
Break social rules.
Defy expectations.
Play the Fool** and own it, too,
*lest the Fool own you.*
What has the Fool taught you?
Have you been willing to learn?
Have you the capacity to teach?
Wouldst thou follow
Hermes, or Loki? Mercury? Thoth?
Or would they follow you?
***We need more Characters.
Fear not Card #0.***
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
A turquoise fly battered on a red laptop
on whose twenty-inch pane glowed a green apple.
A poet, some distance away from the backdrop,
with the fly and the apple sought to grapple:
What stories? What parables would a laptop
offer Hermes - about an oozy apple
and a fly who understood not that the fruit
on the red laptop is only the image of a copy?
(c) LazharBouazzi
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 3:03 PM UTC
Handbags
Fetish for handbags...
The last time I counted
Almost 100 of them
Variety of brand names
LV, Gucci, Hermes, coach, Burberry, Jimmy Choo, Marc Jacobs, Fendi
Ohhh.... you just name them..
Some were bought
Some were given on special events
Proud of the collection, love them all
But closet is full..
Keeping some in the store..
Collecting dust , waiting time to rot
Why not sell them?
Donate the profit to charity, orphanages, old folks etc..
Handbags too many...
Can save lives of many...
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!
Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge
Constant my heart through the abyss unknown,
Its glory my sole guide while space surge
About me. Seventy light-years! As I near
That gate of light that men call death, its cold
Pale gleam begins to pulse, a throbbing sphere,
Systole and diastole of eager gold,
New life immortal, warmth of passion bleed
Till night's black velvet burn to crimson. Hark!
It is thy voice, Thy word, the secret seed
Of rapture that admonishes the dark.
Swift! By necessity most righteous drawn,
Hermes, authentic augur of the dawn!
2.4k
Home.
Three.
Two.
One.
Ignition;
We ascend.
Faster now;
Ground control:
Are you there?
Systems functional.
Slip past gravity,
Escape velocity;
Break Gaea's bonds.
Fuel tanks go.
One.
Two.
Past Luna,
Towards Zeus.
Aphrodite's horizon.
Sol's pull,
Too close,
My wings burn.
Faster now;
Cronos looms;
Rings shimmering.
Faster still.
To Caelus,
Beyond the sky.
To Poseidon,
Past sea's shore.
With Hermes,
The gates of Hades.
Edge of home,
Losing touch.
No longer domestic.
Three.
Two.
One.
Gone.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 1:03 PM UTC
Shasha: If you like then u should’ve put a ring on it.
Emily: A.) not the right song b.) not singing time yet C.) What’s your name?
Shasha:BUT I WANT TO SING !!! And I’m Natasha
Emily: Sorry about that folks I’m Emily. We are the Purple People Peepers
Shasha: Purple is the color peeping is the uhm.... Dollar??
Emily: Well who here knows about the smurfs?
Shasha: Smurfs??
Emily: Yup.
Audience hoots and hollers
Emily:Well sometimes if I embarrass Natasha enough she looks like a smurf.
ShaSha: You weren’t supposed to tell people.
Emily: Sorry.
ShaSha: Emily shush its my turn.
Emily: Well alright.
Shasha: We’re gonna be singing!
Emily: Yeah... What song?
Shasha: We Wish You A Merry Christmas!
Emily: (Gives Shasha a sarcastic look) And A Happy New Year?
Shasha: What song is that?
Emily: (Gives Shasha a confused look) Or, we can sing the song we planned on singing.
Shasha: (Smiling) Okay! (Turns and looks at Emily, very confused) What song is that?
Emily: I Want You Back by
Shasha: Cher Llyod!
Emily: No, The Jackson 5.
Shasha: The band?
Emily: (Gives her another sarcastic look) Yes, Natasha, the band. The group, Sweetie, The Jackson 5 is a group.
Shasha: I know, when are we gonna start singing?
Emily: Right now.
Shasha: Great! Who’s singing first?
Emily: I don’t know!!! How about Hermes??Maybe Jesus??
Shasha: \What does that have to do with the song?
Emily: Really? I hadn’t thought about that *sarcasticalIy
’
Shasha: Because you’re not smart like me. (smiles and points at herself proudly)
Emily: Yeah.....thats why.....
Shasha: Tehe
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
What drives a man to achieve his goals? Motivation of course!
The enthusiastic mindset that if you work hard, you'll achieve.
The unhindered perspective that compels you to think about the end goal and ignore the hardships that attempt to impede your progress towards greatness.
The idea that putting your best foot forward will gain the admiration of a metaphorical Hermes who will then grant you his winged sandals to propel you above the rest of your peers and out of your unsatisfactory situation.
What drives a man to succeed in his ventures? Motivation of course!
A burst of energy that says "I can do it if I believe I can." despite limitations on your strength or your intelligence or your character.
An aura that surrounds you and invigorates your humors, enticing your senses as well as giving you a mask that hides your unsure demeanor.
It's a revelation, that motivation, which enlightens the soul and frees the body from the chains that marked the end of it's abilities.
What drives a man to accomplish milestones for himself? Perhaps it manifests itself in something other than motivation.
It could be the desire to find acceptance, to be wanted, to get that simple thumbs up that sends a message that needs not be spoken. "You did well."
Possibly it would be the wish, the simple wish that a man will have done something worth remembering in the brief existence that he has, something he can look back on and think to himself, "I didn't do half-bad on that, did I?"
Teetering on the self-existential reflecting concepts, it could just be that man wishes to find fulfillment by filling his daily activities with anything. And that the greater the activity, the laborious hours put into completion, here man finds solace in putting meaning into his day to day living. Thus we find that goals are merely tick marks, road signs on the long drive from life's start to inevitable death.
This, this is all motivation. Anything that places reins over a man's mind and hits the spur against his brain, in hopes that this will help him move forward and do what he believes is necessary to do.
Motivation is to place one's self in this self-deprecating position as to be a slave to ambition in order to be satisfied with one's life. And to think that motivation is a blessing that leads to self-improvement.
Motivation is truly the mind's greatest illusion.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC