Poetry competition CLOSED 5th March 2015 2:08am
WINNER
Mourningcloak
Mourningcloak
RUNNER-UP:
Astyanax
Greek Mythology
Poetry Contest Description
Write about a Greek myth, Greek mythological creatures, or the Olympian gods.
Any style, not too horribly long, also no epics(I want to save that for another competition). Must be titled. Two weeks.
If Greek Mythology isn't your thing, don't worry, I'll do a Roman competition as soon as this one is over.
Please state which myth/creature/god inspired your poem below the poem.
If Greek Mythology isn't your thing, don't worry, I'll do a Roman competition as soon as this one is over.
Please state which myth/creature/god inspired your poem below the poem.
Anonymous
Collaborations?
- Erebus -
Lo! Hear now the tale I weave of that dark goddess,
Dreaded by mortals of old, yet whom I walked with…
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress!
I sing of Erebus, whom some called a god of the Abyss.
Yet either gender could she assume, and often did thus:
Beautiful one moment, handsome the next, always fair…
For in her darkness was a certain light one could trust.
An honest light, and yet of it did men learn to beware!
I, whom once was called a queen of demons, so right,
And yet even I did not gaze too deeply into her eyes…
For the soul of Erebus was as terrible as it was bright!
In the darkness below even Hades, amidst fiery skies,
Therein was she supreme, and none could touch her…
Except for Nyx: and of their union much was wrought.
None seek her out simply to of trivial matters confer…
For Erebus is darkness itself, amidst hot flame caught.
On aged scrolls she penned arcane lore and I learned,
Secrets that even my Olympian enemies knew not of…
Taught from the thought of darkness, as souls burned!
Yet even in such teachings I discovered a deeper love.
For without passion, fire and darkness become weak…
And Erebus was a strong teacher, never too wavering.
Before her even gods could become frightened, meek.
But of her fearfully lovely visage many come savoring!
I met her as an equal,
My spirit, equally terrible.
A Poem about Erebus, an Ancient Greek Primordial God / Goddess.
Lo! Hear now the tale I weave of that dark goddess,
Dreaded by mortals of old, yet whom I walked with…
Hand in hand, each of us wearing our blackest dress!
I sing of Erebus, whom some called a god of the Abyss.
Yet either gender could she assume, and often did thus:
Beautiful one moment, handsome the next, always fair…
For in her darkness was a certain light one could trust.
An honest light, and yet of it did men learn to beware!
I, whom once was called a queen of demons, so right,
And yet even I did not gaze too deeply into her eyes…
For the soul of Erebus was as terrible as it was bright!
In the darkness below even Hades, amidst fiery skies,
Therein was she supreme, and none could touch her…
Except for Nyx: and of their union much was wrought.
None seek her out simply to of trivial matters confer…
For Erebus is darkness itself, amidst hot flame caught.
On aged scrolls she penned arcane lore and I learned,
Secrets that even my Olympian enemies knew not of…
Taught from the thought of darkness, as souls burned!
Yet even in such teachings I discovered a deeper love.
For without passion, fire and darkness become weak…
And Erebus was a strong teacher, never too wavering.
Before her even gods could become frightened, meek.
But of her fearfully lovely visage many come savoring!
I met her as an equal,
My spirit, equally terrible.
A Poem about Erebus, an Ancient Greek Primordial God / Goddess.
- On Darker Shore -
Written in collaboration with jadielue (Jadeth)
Part One: In the Depths
In the depths of the underworld, pale pining Persephone,
Partook of wisdom beyond the ken of her lord, Hades…
Venturing in solitude beyond the prisons of the old Titans.
She came to a dark end, where the chasm of fire begins!
Hades sought her with the hounds of Hell to lead him on,
At last coming to where Hecate raised her grim throne…
Forsaken, by all the gods; feared by mortals, yet serene!
She took pity on the lord of the dead, became his queen.
Whilst Persephone plotted in secret, silently as a serpent!
For this was how she chose to test her lord’s commitment.
Dead yet dreaming, like the nameless gods of elder lore…
She had taken her own life, to rise again on darker shore!
Part Two: Black Stone
On wet, black stone of the nether endless shore...
Persephone gently arose from dark ashes like fire.
Her demureness and innocence melted away, so sure.
New form is animal in heart, so full of desires.
With rage and pain she screams deep in the darkness.
Hecate felt chills like fingers while atop her throne...
Surely, the silence had been broken: by another? Highness?
Persephone appears, her shadows cast like a dragon...
With fangs bared. Hecate stands, in awe, no possibility this could be!
"O, shameless harlot, you have no seat...
Within this place of mine!" No hesitation, no boundaries known.
So they begin their battle of hearts and thrones!
Part Three: War in Hell
No armies flocked to either side, where the war so raged…
And no oracle foretold of it, nor in dreams was it presaged.
Only Hades was there when Hecate’s heart was torn out…
By the claws of Persephone who was purged of any doubt,
Of the wickedness of he whom she had called her beloved!
Now he so quaked before her, his black heart full of dread.
He before whom mortal shades trembled when they faded,
Was moved to terror by the very goddess who anticipated:
Just such treachery from he, and so she felt not a bit of pity!
“Come, Hades, and thus do allow me now to set you free.”
But she had absorbed a portion of Hecate’s own essence,
Which lived on in her, becoming some hybrid quintessence!
I wrote this poem in collaboration with jadielue (Jadeth) and we were inspired by the myths of Persephone, Hades, and Hecate when we penned it.
Written in collaboration with jadielue (Jadeth)
Part One: In the Depths
In the depths of the underworld, pale pining Persephone,
Partook of wisdom beyond the ken of her lord, Hades…
Venturing in solitude beyond the prisons of the old Titans.
She came to a dark end, where the chasm of fire begins!
Hades sought her with the hounds of Hell to lead him on,
At last coming to where Hecate raised her grim throne…
Forsaken, by all the gods; feared by mortals, yet serene!
She took pity on the lord of the dead, became his queen.
Whilst Persephone plotted in secret, silently as a serpent!
For this was how she chose to test her lord’s commitment.
Dead yet dreaming, like the nameless gods of elder lore…
She had taken her own life, to rise again on darker shore!
Part Two: Black Stone
On wet, black stone of the nether endless shore...
Persephone gently arose from dark ashes like fire.
Her demureness and innocence melted away, so sure.
New form is animal in heart, so full of desires.
With rage and pain she screams deep in the darkness.
Hecate felt chills like fingers while atop her throne...
Surely, the silence had been broken: by another? Highness?
Persephone appears, her shadows cast like a dragon...
With fangs bared. Hecate stands, in awe, no possibility this could be!
"O, shameless harlot, you have no seat...
Within this place of mine!" No hesitation, no boundaries known.
So they begin their battle of hearts and thrones!
Part Three: War in Hell
No armies flocked to either side, where the war so raged…
And no oracle foretold of it, nor in dreams was it presaged.
Only Hades was there when Hecate’s heart was torn out…
By the claws of Persephone who was purged of any doubt,
Of the wickedness of he whom she had called her beloved!
Now he so quaked before her, his black heart full of dread.
He before whom mortal shades trembled when they faded,
Was moved to terror by the very goddess who anticipated:
Just such treachery from he, and so she felt not a bit of pity!
“Come, Hades, and thus do allow me now to set you free.”
But she had absorbed a portion of Hecate’s own essence,
Which lived on in her, becoming some hybrid quintessence!
I wrote this poem in collaboration with jadielue (Jadeth) and we were inspired by the myths of Persephone, Hades, and Hecate when we penned it.
- Promethean Promise -
The titan writhed in agony, not physically,
But in ways only old gods, can bestow…
And he remembered his pain so intimately!
He promised himself to cause their woe…
But the old gods died, and he lay forgotten.
His torment becoming a rampant madness,
Until his soul was eaten away, grown rotten.
Enough, had he, of wallowing in sadness…
Humankind discovered where he did dwell.
And to make the old gods weep for his pain,
He showed man, the true depths of his hell!
But they were dead, those gods of antiquity,
And could not quiet the rage that he bore…
Their sprits could only watch him so silently.
At last his fire was spent, cold to the core…
Unbound, was his tether, as man did pay,
The cost the gods were not there to cover.
And so come the seventh old celestial day,
He made a bargain, to become the lover…
Of Death herself, in return for but her kiss!
For only in her arms could he know peace.
She wanted souls, in return for such bliss…
And souls he gave her, his pain unleashed!
She shared her charms,
And he died in her arms.
A Poem about Prometheus, an Ancient Greek Titan (the Elder Gods who came before the younger Olympian Gods).
The titan writhed in agony, not physically,
But in ways only old gods, can bestow…
And he remembered his pain so intimately!
He promised himself to cause their woe…
But the old gods died, and he lay forgotten.
His torment becoming a rampant madness,
Until his soul was eaten away, grown rotten.
Enough, had he, of wallowing in sadness…
Humankind discovered where he did dwell.
And to make the old gods weep for his pain,
He showed man, the true depths of his hell!
But they were dead, those gods of antiquity,
And could not quiet the rage that he bore…
Their sprits could only watch him so silently.
At last his fire was spent, cold to the core…
Unbound, was his tether, as man did pay,
The cost the gods were not there to cover.
And so come the seventh old celestial day,
He made a bargain, to become the lover…
Of Death herself, in return for but her kiss!
For only in her arms could he know peace.
She wanted souls, in return for such bliss…
And souls he gave her, his pain unleashed!
She shared her charms,
And he died in her arms.
A Poem about Prometheus, an Ancient Greek Titan (the Elder Gods who came before the younger Olympian Gods).
I have published this already in my poems, will it do or shall I write another one?
HOLY FUCK
This wide blue sea is called Ionian
because Io has travelled through,
paying a punishment Draconian,
after enjoying a holy scru.
With gods and goddesses eternal
you sure enjoy a holy fuck,
kind of paternal or fraternal,
but you may soon run out of luck.
And thus Io pursued by flies,
after her fuck with holy Zeus,
our mortal state signifies:
After such fucks there is no truce.
For this long tale I have no doubt,
A holy truth masked as a lie,
since I have fucked with Edeltraud
I'm still pursued by that mad fly.
Of course I'm inspired by the myth of Io and I feel very sympathetic to her. I wrote it last autumn in my balcony which is facing the Ionian sea.
This wide blue sea is called Ionian
because Io has travelled through,
paying a punishment Draconian,
after enjoying a holy scru.
With gods and goddesses eternal
you sure enjoy a holy fuck,
kind of paternal or fraternal,
but you may soon run out of luck.
And thus Io pursued by flies,
after her fuck with holy Zeus,
our mortal state signifies:
After such fucks there is no truce.
For this long tale I have no doubt,
A holy truth masked as a lie,
since I have fucked with Edeltraud
I'm still pursued by that mad fly.
Of course I'm inspired by the myth of Io and I feel very sympathetic to her. I wrote it last autumn in my balcony which is facing the Ionian sea.
Jesus nailed on the cross
regretfully spoke and said:
"I've suffered through it all,
I think I am nearly dead".
Prometheus nailed on Caucasus side
gave him this reply:
"That I could never be cause I'm a God,
and Gods don’t die."
reflecting on K. Varnalis' play "The Light That Burns"
Theseus and the Minotaur
Through darkness thick as blood he feels his way,
The tunnel wall beneath his hand is cold.
What horrors lie ahead, he cannot say;
Poor Theseus feels more terrified than bold.
A bovine stench assails his nostrils now,
Close by, a dreadful Something scrapes the ground,
Irresolute, but mindful of his vow
He stumbles on, alert for every sound.
With bellowing roar, the beast leaps in the gloom;
Theseus goes down, but thrusts his spear ahead:
Wildly he stabs, screams echo round the tomb.
The deed is done, the Minotaur is dead.
He hurries back, impatient, out of breath,
To Ariadne…and his father’s death.
Through darkness thick as blood he feels his way,
The tunnel wall beneath his hand is cold.
What horrors lie ahead, he cannot say;
Poor Theseus feels more terrified than bold.
A bovine stench assails his nostrils now,
Close by, a dreadful Something scrapes the ground,
Irresolute, but mindful of his vow
He stumbles on, alert for every sound.
With bellowing roar, the beast leaps in the gloom;
Theseus goes down, but thrusts his spear ahead:
Wildly he stabs, screams echo round the tomb.
The deed is done, the Minotaur is dead.
He hurries back, impatient, out of breath,
To Ariadne…and his father’s death.
Anonymous
to be icarus
sometimes I want nothing more
than to strap on wings of feathers and wax
and become icarus
flying
flying
flying
higher
higher
higher
until my wings begin to falter
the wax begins to soften
and i am
crashing
crashing
crashing
down
down
down
if i can become icarus
people will remember me as
fool hardy
a dreamer
too ambitious maybe
not someone hell bent
on
falling
sometimes I want nothing more
than to strap on wings of feathers and wax
and become icarus
flying
flying
flying
higher
higher
higher
until my wings begin to falter
the wax begins to soften
and i am
crashing
crashing
crashing
down
down
down
if i can become icarus
people will remember me as
fool hardy
a dreamer
too ambitious maybe
not someone hell bent
on
falling
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/montagesmall_zps22095573.png
THEY RAN WITH THE DEER[/b]
Once there were women
Who ran with the deer
Women of courage and strength
Who showed little or no fear
Like Diana, the Goddess
That ruled the moonscape
She ran with the deer
Like her future namesake
When while out stalking
The Highland deer so red
Cast her cheating prince
From her marriage bed
And Camilla her nemesis
She also ran with the deer
As did Camilla the huntress
Of old Roman yesteryear
And brave Atalanta
Heroine of old Greek lore
Who stalked and killed
The wild Caledonian Boar
There’s Dido the Queen
Of Ancient Libyan land
Who ruled over her subjects
With a strong iron hand
Later came Maid Marion
From the forest of Sherwood
Who ran with the deer
Beside her lover Robin hood
And Matilda who chose
Her own husband and lover
Rather than to submit
To the choice of her father
So tell me, are you a damsel
Who trembles in fear?
Or are you a young woman
Who runs with the deer?[/color]
One of my very first poems, I wrote when I was going to school. Just found tucked away, and thought I'd share it with all it's faults. Back then, I was studying Greek and Roman Mythology. And because I wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree, I'd put History to verse, to help me remember and understand it.
THEY RAN WITH THE DEER[/b]
Once there were women
Who ran with the deer
Women of courage and strength
Who showed little or no fear
Like Diana, the Goddess
That ruled the moonscape
She ran with the deer
Like her future namesake
When while out stalking
The Highland deer so red
Cast her cheating prince
From her marriage bed
And Camilla her nemesis
She also ran with the deer
As did Camilla the huntress
Of old Roman yesteryear
And brave Atalanta
Heroine of old Greek lore
Who stalked and killed
The wild Caledonian Boar
There’s Dido the Queen
Of Ancient Libyan land
Who ruled over her subjects
With a strong iron hand
Later came Maid Marion
From the forest of Sherwood
Who ran with the deer
Beside her lover Robin hood
And Matilda who chose
Her own husband and lover
Rather than to submit
To the choice of her father
So tell me, are you a damsel
Who trembles in fear?
Or are you a young woman
Who runs with the deer?[/color]
One of my very first poems, I wrote when I was going to school. Just found tucked away, and thought I'd share it with all it's faults. Back then, I was studying Greek and Roman Mythology. And because I wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree, I'd put History to verse, to help me remember and understand it.
Anonymous
Pygmalion and Galatea
(TheGoddessMinerva is in regular text, Franko76 is in italics)
i waited centuries
pressed into this mountain in flowing seams
shapeless and full of void
creation coming and going and adding layers
to my vastness
pressure of earth and eroding
of water, smoothing and perfecting
but not creating
and then!
i felt the shaking of the ground
and withdrew all of myself into the
one place, willing my essence into one vein
divine white with flecks of blush
the crashing left me at the feet
of men, artists with prying eyes
and the desire to produce beauty
behold this alabaster mass
potential, pure and unadulterated
ready to be shaped by flawless will
in juxtaposition to will flawed
unsullied in its shapeless quiescence
a contrast for salacious harlots
dwelling beneath me
for in my earlier journeys!
i was taunted by promises
of experiences loose in character
and indulgence of debauchery
with jutting hips
and exposed flesh
despite my answering scorn
they sought to stir this royal blood
but instead met cold contempt
his eyes are on me, i can read his thoughts
my unseen eyes see and in his eyes
i see desire and need, but also much derision
he carries it like a shield to ward off
his offenders in droves
loose women, wanting him only
for the coin in his purse and the title he carries
but his only response has ever been contempt
what will such scorn make of me?
in the sanctum of my gallery
i receive solace in rhythmic work
ministrations to temper my lust
for perfect form
carved from potential that is…perfect
with the deftness of love’s attentiveness
her beauteous form takes shape
and i am smitten
with her features which have been placed
by impeccable obsession
his carving hands bring me to life
not animated, but alive nonetheless!
he sees perfection in my pale cheeks and
earthy lifeblood that will never be far from my lips
i will myself to glow at his touch
to prove that his artist hands are working
magic in my stone
chiseling curves and smile and mind
into this rock
creating me
is this trick of light
skin-tone pigment lent from my imagination?
her minds-eye cast and breathtaking form
have exceeded exacting expectations
yet kisses yield the cold response
of sleeping stone
her beauty so real
mocking me to action
to lay garlands of flowers at her feet
gold to grace her neck and fingers
touching embrace to impart my heat
gifted affectations to appease her allure
offerings to start her cool sleeping heart
i am not asleep, my love!
though I am not warm to your touch
you have stirred my soul within me
curse this marble prison!
i would fold you in my arms
lay my head against your shoulder
as you adorn me with your treasures
my beauty belonging only to you
can you hear me, love?
do you sense my yearning for you?
what is this sorcery?
a flicker of warmth in my cheek
an expanding from within me
look at me, love
look at me!
the pain of absence from her is physical
however i must needs pursue divine intervention
in blood invocation i beseech
O’ Aphrodite i implore thee
release love’s encasement
shed this inanimate perfection
and grant me warm devotion
Goddess, i see you but he does not
hear him, please! melt this rock around me
release me to him.
oh lover of love, Aphrodite! do not make
him suffer the pain of my absence any longer
if any of our deities could do this,
it is you
Her voice in my head “it is done. never
have i seen more perfect love.”
his arms around me again
each touch of his hand turning marble to flesh
his eyes flutter awake,
lazy as if in a dream, when his kiss is returned
am i deceived by summer heat?
this kiss like answered prayers
instantly warm and softly inviting
and yet her eyes glisten in return
precious stones coalesced
in beating heart and heaving breast
her life in our mingled breath
like a bountiful orchard ripe
her soft fleshy fruit, yielding to my hungry touch
am i deluded? can this be real?
no longer can i hear his thoughts
but i can read his face
want and disbelief and love
touching stubbled cheeks with smooth hands
pressing lips together, staring into
creator eyes
this is pure
i am here, love
right now
no longer stone, but flesh
for only you
whispered words no longer insensate
kisses returned in soft splendor
legs to softly part and encircle
flesh responding in rejoined heat
pleasure proclaimed in mutual rumpus
perfect beauty encompassed by mason’s hands
oh Galatea! our passion will spill
from cups filled with each other
to flooding overflow across kingdom and subjects
a reign of shared adoration
handmade love for all
(TheGoddessMinerva is in regular text, Franko76 is in italics)
i waited centuries
pressed into this mountain in flowing seams
shapeless and full of void
creation coming and going and adding layers
to my vastness
pressure of earth and eroding
of water, smoothing and perfecting
but not creating
and then!
i felt the shaking of the ground
and withdrew all of myself into the
one place, willing my essence into one vein
divine white with flecks of blush
the crashing left me at the feet
of men, artists with prying eyes
and the desire to produce beauty
behold this alabaster mass
potential, pure and unadulterated
ready to be shaped by flawless will
in juxtaposition to will flawed
unsullied in its shapeless quiescence
a contrast for salacious harlots
dwelling beneath me
for in my earlier journeys!
i was taunted by promises
of experiences loose in character
and indulgence of debauchery
with jutting hips
and exposed flesh
despite my answering scorn
they sought to stir this royal blood
but instead met cold contempt
his eyes are on me, i can read his thoughts
my unseen eyes see and in his eyes
i see desire and need, but also much derision
he carries it like a shield to ward off
his offenders in droves
loose women, wanting him only
for the coin in his purse and the title he carries
but his only response has ever been contempt
what will such scorn make of me?
in the sanctum of my gallery
i receive solace in rhythmic work
ministrations to temper my lust
for perfect form
carved from potential that is…perfect
with the deftness of love’s attentiveness
her beauteous form takes shape
and i am smitten
with her features which have been placed
by impeccable obsession
his carving hands bring me to life
not animated, but alive nonetheless!
he sees perfection in my pale cheeks and
earthy lifeblood that will never be far from my lips
i will myself to glow at his touch
to prove that his artist hands are working
magic in my stone
chiseling curves and smile and mind
into this rock
creating me
is this trick of light
skin-tone pigment lent from my imagination?
her minds-eye cast and breathtaking form
have exceeded exacting expectations
yet kisses yield the cold response
of sleeping stone
her beauty so real
mocking me to action
to lay garlands of flowers at her feet
gold to grace her neck and fingers
touching embrace to impart my heat
gifted affectations to appease her allure
offerings to start her cool sleeping heart
i am not asleep, my love!
though I am not warm to your touch
you have stirred my soul within me
curse this marble prison!
i would fold you in my arms
lay my head against your shoulder
as you adorn me with your treasures
my beauty belonging only to you
can you hear me, love?
do you sense my yearning for you?
what is this sorcery?
a flicker of warmth in my cheek
an expanding from within me
look at me, love
look at me!
the pain of absence from her is physical
however i must needs pursue divine intervention
in blood invocation i beseech
O’ Aphrodite i implore thee
release love’s encasement
shed this inanimate perfection
and grant me warm devotion
Goddess, i see you but he does not
hear him, please! melt this rock around me
release me to him.
oh lover of love, Aphrodite! do not make
him suffer the pain of my absence any longer
if any of our deities could do this,
it is you
Her voice in my head “it is done. never
have i seen more perfect love.”
his arms around me again
each touch of his hand turning marble to flesh
his eyes flutter awake,
lazy as if in a dream, when his kiss is returned
am i deceived by summer heat?
this kiss like answered prayers
instantly warm and softly inviting
and yet her eyes glisten in return
precious stones coalesced
in beating heart and heaving breast
her life in our mingled breath
like a bountiful orchard ripe
her soft fleshy fruit, yielding to my hungry touch
am i deluded? can this be real?
no longer can i hear his thoughts
but i can read his face
want and disbelief and love
touching stubbled cheeks with smooth hands
pressing lips together, staring into
creator eyes
this is pure
i am here, love
right now
no longer stone, but flesh
for only you
whispered words no longer insensate
kisses returned in soft splendor
legs to softly part and encircle
flesh responding in rejoined heat
pleasure proclaimed in mutual rumpus
perfect beauty encompassed by mason’s hands
oh Galatea! our passion will spill
from cups filled with each other
to flooding overflow across kingdom and subjects
a reign of shared adoration
handmade love for all
A forgotten beauty
Stone don't show no love
Stone doesn't provide anything.
A distant stare comes from beyond this ocean.
A vibrant sea full of lust.
As I trust these sweet waters and I find my lonilness being full of rust.
I hide, I run, but there he is standing over me with his posiden.
A dark shadow he makes on this summer bay.
This ray of sun that hits the temple floor.
Oh yes.. I trapped in his gaze.
No where to run, for he feels this is his turn for my beauty.
I find myself raped... Beaten .. Defeated... How can a God wreck a poor beauty?
Sentenced to death by the very Goddess I serve.
This lonely land.. These lonely stones.
Stone don't show no love..
And stone don't provide a damn thing..
I choose to be a fair beauty on the inside.
For gazing around me, a army of men who only have hatred in their eyes.
Why beautiful Athena? Do you hurt your most loyal servant so?
~medusa
Stone don't show no love
Stone doesn't provide anything.
A distant stare comes from beyond this ocean.
A vibrant sea full of lust.
As I trust these sweet waters and I find my lonilness being full of rust.
I hide, I run, but there he is standing over me with his posiden.
A dark shadow he makes on this summer bay.
This ray of sun that hits the temple floor.
Oh yes.. I trapped in his gaze.
No where to run, for he feels this is his turn for my beauty.
I find myself raped... Beaten .. Defeated... How can a God wreck a poor beauty?
Sentenced to death by the very Goddess I serve.
This lonely land.. These lonely stones.
Stone don't show no love..
And stone don't provide a damn thing..
I choose to be a fair beauty on the inside.
For gazing around me, a army of men who only have hatred in their eyes.
Why beautiful Athena? Do you hurt your most loyal servant so?
~medusa
