"phlegethon" poems - Hello Poetry

By David John Mowers Oceanus, Acheron, Styx and Gyges, Phlegethon, Phaeacians lament, mourn the loss, Scheria, dissolved in froths. Virgil’s tale, found correct, a land too good, a nation wrecked, Nausikaa, burn the ships; their minds released, cool airy nips, Below the wave, watery grave, submerged to bottom, fathoms by stave, Fathoms some more, until the whorl, descending to, another world. Through Omphalos, to Land of Sleep, awaits a beast, where time has ceased, Darkness here, underworld, cold and frigid, below the whirl, In solemn grave, souls released, judged and counted, by the beast, Deeper than, the deep itself, past drowning fairies and dying elves, Who did mourn them? Those golden men, magic mariners, Mino's kin? What wrong was seen? What vice not true? What awful sin? What did they do? One thousand years, first black age, Two thousand more, to find the stage, Cast off Aries and cast Orion, to find beginning, of Golden Lion. Man of Heavens, Beast agrees, Bull of Sky, Ox of seas, Land of Punt, Land of Éire, Ogyges blue, hearts on fire, All the seashores, all the mines, Tribe of Dan, from ancient times, Port of Sais, Port of Thera, Port of Lagash, bygone era, Sailor’s horse, Minotaur, a lyre is crying, strummed guitar, nation dying, abattoir. Ochre foams to sanguine depth, there they rested, where Kronos slept, He’ll never answer, he doesn’t care, we’ll never know, if this was fair. Our hearts in sadness, hands on the gates! I curse you Poseidon! . . .and your Sea of Fates!

0

Jun 4, 2016

Jun 4, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC

david-john-mowers

Po-se-dawon-e (Powerful Waters/Waters of Power)

By David John Mowers Oceanus, Acheron, Styx and Gyges, Phlegethon, Phaeacians lament, mourn the loss, Scheria, dissolved in froths. Virgil’s tale, found correct, a land too good, a nation wrecked, Nausikaa, burn the ships; their minds released, cool airy nips, Below the wave, watery grave, submerged to bottom, fathoms by stave, Fathoms some more, until the whorl, descending to, another world. Through Omphalos, to Land of Sleep, awaits a beast, where time has ceased, Darkness here, underworld, cold and frigid, below the whirl, In solemn grave, souls released, judged and counted, by the beast, Deeper than, the deep itself, past drowning fairies and dying elves, Who did mourn them? Those golden men, magic mariners, Mino's kin? What wrong was seen? What vice not true? What awful sin? What did they do? One thousand years, first black age, Two thousand more, to find the stage, Cast off Aries and cast Orion, to find beginning, of Golden Lion. Man of Heavens, Beast agrees, Bull of Sky, Ox of seas, Land of Punt, Land of Éire, Ogyges blue, hearts on fire, All the seashores, all the mines, Tribe of Dan, from ancient times, Port of Sais, Port of Thera, Port of Lagash, bygone era, Sailor’s horse, Minotaur, a lyre is crying, strummed guitar, nation dying, abattoir. Ochre foams to sanguine depth, there they rested, where Kronos slept, He’ll never answer, he doesn’t care, we’ll never know, if this was fair. Our hearts in sadness, hands on the gates! I curse you Poseidon! . . .and your Sea of Fates!

24

How lonely infidel He that passeth I; in Phlegethon dwells. Son of the Seas, seasoned with algae. Had a plea about how he happened to be: "When you threw me to the depths, into the heart of the open sea, then a very river encircled me" Melpomene holds her Mother's dress while sailing the temptuous tide. Recalls the sight of hundreds and hunches over to address. "Lead by a primitive spirit" she wails and solemnly stoops to ponder. Their ship's prow now plunges deep and through the ripples, Melpomene meets the seedy yellow iris' of the beast reflecting the clouds. She squints upwards and beholds hoofs with Faithful and True. As the river streams into Tartarus, Mnemosyne's ears begin to ring with a thousand cries and pleads. But the whinnies ring out louder to deafen her while the tail of Leviathan disappears into the blue. Through the cave and into Lethe, the earthy smell of the tops remain as the last but dizzy to remember; of all those who swam lightly past its mist. But to her, tears to enter the watery abyss: "Many must have passed through here, lived long to see, but not enough to learn--" But the ship sailed on. The stream narrows and an opening reveals. They see melted hail with blood on the only land they recall. A Tree glowing brightly in front of a black sky; counted many swords gathered at the foot. Three days they traveled in their ship, but now their oars were put on land. Thunder whips and trumpets horn, the fallen fruit comes ashore. THEIR voices bellow to ask a question: "Was it needed for a war?" An answer, but no pardon: "Many a pang I have felt, those aches violently sprung up from the seven lakes, Is nothing but a genuine mistake. Those worthy time and day, Will surely be given a way." Mother and daughter wiped the tears from their eyes, while gently lifting them to the skies. Above them the sun shone on the wet mass, they see high and colorfully cast: A reassuring Promise and eternity.

0

Dec 25, 2012

Dec 25, 2012 at 1:59 AM UTC

ana-kruscic

Facilis Descensus Averno

How lonely infidel He that passeth I; in Phlegethon dwells. Son of the Seas, seasoned with algae. Had a plea about how he happened to be: "When you threw me to the depths, into the heart of the open sea, then a very river encircled me" Melpomene holds her Mother's dress while sailing the temptuous tide. Recalls the sight of hundreds and hunches over to address. "Lead by a primitive spirit" she wails and solemnly stoops to ponder. Their ship's prow now plunges deep and through the ripples, Melpomene meets the seedy yellow iris' of the beast reflecting the clouds. She squints upwards and beholds hoofs with Faithful and True. As the river streams into Tartarus, Mnemosyne's ears begin to ring with a thousand cries and pleads. But the whinnies ring out louder to deafen her while the tail of Leviathan disappears into the blue. Through the cave and into Lethe, the earthy smell of the tops remain as the last but dizzy to remember; of all those who swam lightly past its mist. But to her, tears to enter the watery abyss: "Many must have passed through here, lived long to see, but not enough to learn--" But the ship sailed on. The stream narrows and an opening reveals. They see melted hail with blood on the only land they recall. A Tree glowing brightly in front of a black sky; counted many swords gathered at the foot. Three days they traveled in their ship, but now their oars were put on land. Thunder whips and trumpets horn, the fallen fruit comes ashore. THEIR voices bellow to ask a question: "Was it needed for a war?" An answer, but no pardon: "Many a pang I have felt, those aches violently sprung up from the seven lakes, Is nothing but a genuine mistake. Those worthy time and day, Will surely be given a way." Mother and daughter wiped the tears from their eyes, while gently lifting them to the skies. Above them the sun shone on the wet mass, they see high and colorfully cast: A reassuring Promise and eternity.

53

i choose to be a misfit, it's part of my artistry. i choose to be a misfit, a pirate and a bandit. a slave to my ministry. i outwit your chemistry and scream from the pulpit. i awoke to explosions and time lapsed erosions. the air filled with fire and rainbow smoke. i couldn't find my breath, the bed was ablaze. i inhaled the nightmare and began to choke... just then, things went fragmentary. i was more than just a dignitary. i found myself in a cinerary, facing someone legendary, and they were me. so i looked up my apothecary, knowing that i should be wary. i quickly dispensed with commentary, avoiding all things monetary. but nothing's free. speaking briefly of the goings-on, i stopped to berate the hangers-on. my mouth wove a verbal marathon, it was a virtual phenomenon. lost in my ego. restless, like the myrmidon, i was unsure of my prolegomenon. when i heard the ringing carillon, i went for a swim in the phlegethon. like abednego.

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Aug 29, 2010

Aug 29, 2010 at 6:35 PM UTC

gregory-bowman

tell me something good

i choose to be a misfit, it's part of my artistry. i choose to be a misfit, a pirate and a bandit. a slave to my ministry. i outwit your chemistry and scream from the pulpit. i awoke to explosions and time lapsed erosions. the air filled with fire and rainbow smoke. i couldn't find my breath, the bed was ablaze. i inhaled the nightmare and began to choke... just then, things went fragmentary. i was more than just a dignitary. i found myself in a cinerary, facing someone legendary, and they were me. so i looked up my apothecary, knowing that i should be wary. i quickly dispensed with commentary, avoiding all things monetary. but nothing's free. speaking briefly of the goings-on, i stopped to berate the hangers-on. my mouth wove a verbal marathon, it was a virtual phenomenon. lost in my ego. restless, like the myrmidon, i was unsure of my prolegomenon. when i heard the ringing carillon, i went for a swim in the phlegethon. like abednego.

1

Welcome to darkness, tis imagination which reaches the darkest valley In the valley of Hades resides I, darkness prevails, moons and skies of deepest purple, they are black enveloped in darkness here Black roses fall above dead skies like obsidian glass, they smash here into millions of red dancing eyes Rushing forming the Phlegethon River of blood fires, Erinys the dead mind, the lost, are all welcome here Night walkers roam without eyes, Suffocation is sweet death, no air can you breathe here, Vrykolakas shift dimensions in night’s payment, Fresh dead are the souls Spiders of eight whip, bite and sink deep into eyes, Scorpion’s sting at rotten limbs, no light shines, No sun lingers upon flesh, ─ Reserved is your place here ─ Death by imagination, shadows creep and walls scream Screaming souls run through mind, Bodies severed and blood fountains rain, ─ Yes it is ****** hell and dark here ─ Werewolf’s roam, ripping, dripping, devoured bodies, Feast your eyes upon black mother snakes, Coiled they crush bones, Venomous fangs sliced flesh, Hissing the mothers laugh, Orinein you dead of dismal blackness Gorge you from this table of cold fleshes; hear flesh screaming as you open, squirming inside, cold blood pounds in your head, Blood runs from your ears, eyes bleeding into blooded wine The knife before you, as you slice from head to toe, Laughing there is no escape, ─ For you are dead ─. She, Hades and Cerberus will hold you here, her walls are portraits, Withering fleshes, long dead beauties pinned black paper; ice cold diamonds drip in her gallery, His gift of black blooded roses fill her chest, Polished to points her bed sharp coals, purple flames burn evermore…. her throne weaved mothers, eighty eight heads, before them you are dead, A miserable dream, no hope as you pass through Adamantine gates, Black fading submerged into the Lethe, slowly to nothingness, ~Dead are you here ~ © Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet 2013

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Mar 25, 2015

Mar 25, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC

SolPoet

Hades Garden

Welcome to darkness, tis imagination which reaches the darkest valley In the valley of Hades resides I, darkness prevails, moons and skies of deepest purple, they are black enveloped in darkness here Black roses fall above dead skies like obsidian glass, they smash here into millions of red dancing eyes Rushing forming the Phlegethon River of blood fires, Erinys the dead mind, the lost, are all welcome here Night walkers roam without eyes, Suffocation is sweet death, no air can you breathe here, Vrykolakas shift dimensions in night’s payment, Fresh dead are the souls Spiders of eight whip, bite and sink deep into eyes, Scorpion’s sting at rotten limbs, no light shines, No sun lingers upon flesh, ─ Reserved is your place here ─ Death by imagination, shadows creep and walls scream Screaming souls run through mind, Bodies severed and blood fountains rain, ─ Yes it is ****** hell and dark here ─ Werewolf’s roam, ripping, dripping, devoured bodies, Feast your eyes upon black mother snakes, Coiled they crush bones, Venomous fangs sliced flesh, Hissing the mothers laugh, Orinein you dead of dismal blackness Gorge you from this table of cold fleshes; hear flesh screaming as you open, squirming inside, cold blood pounds in your head, Blood runs from your ears, eyes bleeding into blooded wine The knife before you, as you slice from head to toe, Laughing there is no escape, ─ For you are dead ─. She, Hades and Cerberus will hold you here, her walls are portraits, Withering fleshes, long dead beauties pinned black paper; ice cold diamonds drip in her gallery, His gift of black blooded roses fill her chest, Polished to points her bed sharp coals, purple flames burn evermore…. her throne weaved mothers, eighty eight heads, before them you are dead, A miserable dream, no hope as you pass through Adamantine gates, Black fading submerged into the Lethe, slowly to nothingness, ~Dead are you here ~ © Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet 2013

43

Coranalled with ruby lumanecents, She purified her hands sanguinary, Disdaining her heart's curt, desperate repents, She plunged into Phlegethon pensively. Like a mother nursing her one child, A metal bottle played her heart's succor, She saw the world: imperfect, defiled, And laid herself to rest on the wood floor. Then she prayed, "If I die before I wake, I pray the lord my branches don't break"

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Aug 28, 2011

Aug 28, 2011 at 5:41 PM UTC

lorelei-adams

For Phlegethon

Coranalled with ruby lumanecents, She purified her hands sanguinary, Disdaining her heart's curt, desperate repents, She plunged into Phlegethon pensively. Like a mother nursing her one child, A metal bottle played her heart's succor, She saw the world: imperfect, defiled, And laid herself to rest on the wood floor. Then she prayed, "If I die before I wake, I pray the lord my branches don't break"

10

Midriff burning sensation, Exactly as if it will explode, Nocturnal timings help, Stark daylight is undesirable, Troublesome five days, Ripe burning inside the temple of life, Under the wicked sky, Awry is the cup for collection, Lopsided is its construction. Cusping the proof of life, Unfailing burning sensation, Pouting by the end of a month.

0

Aug 19, 2021

Aug 19, 2021 at 10:46 AM UTC

Atul

The Phlegethon in a Cup of Life

Midriff burning sensation, Exactly as if it will explode, Nocturnal timings help, Stark daylight is undesirable, Troublesome five days, Ripe burning inside the temple of life, Under the wicked sky, Awry is the cup for collection, Lopsided is its construction. Cusping the proof of life, Unfailing burning sensation, Pouting by the end of a month.

12

i’m in the same place where i wrote a poem about yew where eye compared the dawning sky to your aura of light but i forgot yew can fall just as much for potential instead of for who yew are. eye saw what i wanted to see. yew bristles around me sap drizzling thru my wounds words of red berry yew dripped onto me like a cloying poison. i choked sweet in Faerie hungering for more which i cannot taste. hollow bark hollow branches reaching for my spirit(s) as eye cross onto another plane of existence where yew cannot follow. eye am hardly free in this place childhood memories under the yew tree making virulent memories laurels & wreaths wrap around me eye am guided? eye am saved? by yew? following yew across Hell’s rivers. the Styx looked back at me in the eyes of myself. Acheron stung like the needle of yew thistles. The Lethe offered me cleanliness but as eye cannot forgive i do not deserve to forget. Phlegethon scorned me like yew jealousy, the Cocytus bade me deafness thru my own wails & eye ran these yew trial me, seeing if eye cling like a cicada to your bark screaming and shedding skin in graphic rebirth of the self against yew. eye run from the truth but i have yew to thank. guide me threw steer my path correction course. the axe finally lands. yew fall. eye use yew bark to burn away what remains of you & eye.

0

Nov 17, 2020

Nov 17, 2020 at 3:02 PM UTC

phoenixv2

yew

i’m in the same place where i wrote a poem about yew where eye compared the dawning sky to your aura of light but i forgot yew can fall just as much for potential instead of for who yew are. eye saw what i wanted to see. yew bristles around me sap drizzling thru my wounds words of red berry yew dripped onto me like a cloying poison. i choked sweet in Faerie hungering for more which i cannot taste. hollow bark hollow branches reaching for my spirit(s) as eye cross onto another plane of existence where yew cannot follow. eye am hardly free in this place childhood memories under the yew tree making virulent memories laurels & wreaths wrap around me eye am guided? eye am saved? by yew? following yew across Hell’s rivers. the Styx looked back at me in the eyes of myself. Acheron stung like the needle of yew thistles. The Lethe offered me cleanliness but as eye cannot forgive i do not deserve to forget. Phlegethon scorned me like yew jealousy, the Cocytus bade me deafness thru my own wails & eye ran these yew trial me, seeing if eye cling like a cicada to your bark screaming and shedding skin in graphic rebirth of the self against yew. eye run from the truth but i have yew to thank. guide me threw steer my path correction course. the axe finally lands. yew fall. eye use yew bark to burn away what remains of you & eye.

44

He is the way into the city of woe, He sees all dark deeds but doesn't care so. He'll take me wherever I've been sent to go, But at least someone accepts my sorrow. Over the cliff and down, down. When there is no more descending. Styx, Acheron, and Phlegethon are one now. And the Lake is unending. I'll see them all. I'll see them all.

0

Oct 3, 2018

Oct 3, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC

PassionPete

RiverS

He is the way into the city of woe, He sees all dark deeds but doesn't care so. He'll take me wherever I've been sent to go, But at least someone accepts my sorrow. Over the cliff and down, down. When there is no more descending. Styx, Acheron, and Phlegethon are one now. And the Lake is unending. I'll see them all. I'll see them all.

12

No moon showing her lustrous wonder No stars set ablaze Only clouds sounding of thunder Plunging rain greeting my gaze Drops tasting of flame and damnation Through a gap a gossamer star palpitates Lonely and lost in its constellation Only dolorous moans encapsulate Gasping at fetid air Face gurgling above scalding blood Phlegethon, river of despair My flesh becomes the mud A figure appears over the precipice A living body one that is whole A lost man seems not necessitous None that can help this tortured soul A half horse is with he Bow strung aimed at me Risen higher than I should be Arrow loosen my flesh stings Awaken in sweat, four walls surrounding A guilty conscience stewed this dream Enclosed in darkness, alone, wailing Recurring... haunting... blaspheme...

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Jun 8, 2018

Jun 8, 2018 at 6:29 AM UTC

EvilShredder

Nessus

No moon showing her lustrous wonder No stars set ablaze Only clouds sounding of thunder Plunging rain greeting my gaze Drops tasting of flame and damnation Through a gap a gossamer star palpitates Lonely and lost in its constellation Only dolorous moans encapsulate Gasping at fetid air Face gurgling above scalding blood Phlegethon, river of despair My flesh becomes the mud A figure appears over the precipice A living body one that is whole A lost man seems not necessitous None that can help this tortured soul A half horse is with he Bow strung aimed at me Risen higher than I should be Arrow loosen my flesh stings Awaken in sweat, four walls surrounding A guilty conscience stewed this dream Enclosed in darkness, alone, wailing Recurring... haunting... blaspheme...

24

Grey in Rainbow Blood in capillaries Gasp, oxygen blood, turn blue. Regular beat, relief Racing car, Lightning McQueen Anxiety, rush in Aorta Dilute, soothe, disillusion. Greek gods, medusa´s eye Stone sculpture, eternal Laid bare, **** Draw me french. Hands, save thy dignity clutch the ***** oh my pearls roll over eyeballs, curses. Put a paper lantern over your eyes. Put your tinted glasses rose coloured view. Finger on the pulse trigger, don't shoot don't want 49 dead progress, fear strikes back. Hoot hoot the clock strikes 2.02. Rise up from your bed you winged sucker. Vampire, drink your fill no limit but 6. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 greetings Charon One coin to River Acheron. Oink oink little swine you are. Pigman, hold your cleaver. Pig blood, Carrie´s revenge. ****** red, sacrifice Jauhar Euphrosyne´s joy, Euphoria River Phlegethon, the path to Tartarus. Cocytus, bathe me in Lethe. Hypnos, spare me. Himeros, May it be Aporia, Limos, Hedone Meet Curae, Nosoi, Algea. Phobos, I am scared.

0

Jan 31, 2020

Jan 31, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC

LostBlueBoy

Blood of the Rainbow

Grey in Rainbow Blood in capillaries Gasp, oxygen blood, turn blue. Regular beat, relief Racing car, Lightning McQueen Anxiety, rush in Aorta Dilute, soothe, disillusion. Greek gods, medusa´s eye Stone sculpture, eternal Laid bare, **** Draw me french. Hands, save thy dignity clutch the ***** oh my pearls roll over eyeballs, curses. Put a paper lantern over your eyes. Put your tinted glasses rose coloured view. Finger on the pulse trigger, don't shoot don't want 49 dead progress, fear strikes back. Hoot hoot the clock strikes 2.02. Rise up from your bed you winged sucker. Vampire, drink your fill no limit but 6. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 greetings Charon One coin to River Acheron. Oink oink little swine you are. Pigman, hold your cleaver. Pig blood, Carrie´s revenge. ****** red, sacrifice Jauhar Euphrosyne´s joy, Euphoria River Phlegethon, the path to Tartarus. Cocytus, bathe me in Lethe. Hypnos, spare me. Himeros, May it be Aporia, Limos, Hedone Meet Curae, Nosoi, Algea. Phobos, I am scared.

45

A chill of Styx water runs through my heart, Arrows cannot reach it, I will not let them. To do so is to die, Please understand. Shots of Phlegethon stopped reaching my tears, Too many times have I gone mad from it's flames. I would rather forget, All that icy pain. When I die from this curse of long-lost touch, Send me to corrode on the banks of the Lethe.

0

Mar 26, 2020

Mar 26, 2020 at 2:07 PM UTC

MikeAEyslee

Poplar Branch

A chill of Styx water runs through my heart, Arrows cannot reach it, I will not let them. To do so is to die, Please understand. Shots of Phlegethon stopped reaching my tears, Too many times have I gone mad from it's flames. I would rather forget, All that icy pain. When I die from this curse of long-lost touch, Send me to corrode on the banks of the Lethe.

10