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Sia Jane Nov 2014
I am not yet defiled; O hear me.
Let not the crazed hornets or serpents or ophidian or the
   buzzard bee come near me.

I am not yet defiled; console me.
I fear that the snake charmer may with rhythmic body clocks clock me,
   with predatory hissing paralyze me, with authoritative power anger me,
      on wicker constraints constrain me, in bamboo-patches pierce me.

I am not yet defiled; provide me
With beauty to free me, dressage to cover me, silence to come
   to me, souls to save me, charmers and angels
     in my wandering existence seeking fights to waver the war within me.

I am not yet defiled; forgive me
For the provocative glances in me, my presence when womanity holds me,
   my mythological beauty by deities beyond me,
      my head held high when they slay by means of my
         crossbow, my addiction when they poison me.

I am not yet defiled; rehearse me
In the dreams and the prayers I must take when
   art interrupts me, material disturbs me, splintered souls
     gaze at me, smiles fade at me, the knifes edge
       stains me and everlasting scars pain
         me to shame and the shames taints
           my skin and my heart abandons me.

I am not yet defiled; O hear me,
Let not Perseus who is warrior or who thinks he is King
     or a rival to me.

I am not yet defiled; O fill me
With gasoline against those who would inhabit my
  bones, would sink me into empty caverns,
    would make me a prisoner locked, a monster with
      blood dripping, a monster, and a passer of dis-ease
        who would execute my self, would
          flush me like ***** oozing and
            ***** and ooze and *****
              like alcohol seeping in the
                pores would drown me.

Let Poseidan not make me defiled and let him not **** me.
Otherwise **** me.

© Sia Jane
I cannot lay claims for all this poem. I did spend many hours last night, taking a Louis MacNeice poem, called "Prayer before Birth" http://www.poetryarchive.org/poem/prayer-birth, and adapting it to the story of Medussa. This is the outcome.
Mick Cadenisou Dec 2014
Her hair, I’m seeing the white bathroom
And on her beautiful head
Long, auburn and curly
I don’t remember anything
But the desire for closeness
Innocence and the bonds of womanity
She worried for me, about me, wanted to help me
Lips pressed against my child brow
Warm I was, and so thrilled
This is what I want to be
And my daddy bought monkey brains
Doors close, windows open and I still peer in
Then and now
We eat them down the hill, in the green, to the car.
Bliss for togetherness
Eleni Dec 2020
Heed this breath.
I want nothing more than your death,
in my mind of endless breadth-
lies no room for interchangeable personas.

Each like a mask, revealing and concealing
Expression and depression of character.
The clarity of ambiguity is rather healing
my past lassitude. My endearing solitude.

The view from up here is grandiose.
Pertaining not to a certain indulgence;
The ores of my throne are ones of perseverance,
of bruised rock polished to lighten my eyes.

Daring to extinguish flames of grace and womanity-
you are a fool.
An image of a cracked woman needs no validation
from the male gaze.
Prepare her horse for the highway of damnation.
The fear of female strength and desire.

— The End —