Actions

Work Header

Holiness

Chapter 19: Poetry 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sappho Tell Me

 

Sappho, is such a horrible desire right?

To love Pallas Athena, her eyes so bright?

Sappho there must be such a horrible cure? 

For such love impure?

 

Sappho, is there way to see her desire right?

When her gaze sets pythian visions alight?

Will there be a way for her love to be true,

for she loves not two?

 

Sappho, are there ways to let Athena play?

Play at love instead of war, let her mind stray?

To let her learn of art instead of sport, and 

lead her desire damned?

 

Sappho, can we enlist golden Apollo? 

To make her laugh not so terribly hollow? 

Can we borrow the sun to set grey alight?

For her burning sight?

 

Sappho tell me true, 

The many things I must do

For her to love me 

 

 

 

Devotion 101

 

I want to compare 

Her eyes to a storm 

His biting words to the frost

painted by winter's breath 

 

It's so much more 

Than love and devotion 

could ever whisper true 

 

How sweet would the grave 

be, if she were the one to dig it? 

Would it fit me perfectly, 

Osiris's golden coffin?

Would I jump right into the fray 

If Hector's eyes sought mine in the day?

 

All I have are putrid thoughts 

Of desire, enough to burn 

Like those little ants 

Under the magnifying glass 

Or Icarus on the wing

 

Is desire enough to come undone? 

Is it enough, hands pruned, 

heart in supernova, 

hair in tornado, 

is desire enough

To achieve the one goal, 

To live forever, 

To live forever, 

To live forever, 

 

Must we achieve that goal, 

for sadness drags us on that route

her hair long ago combed, hands supple as youth?

Must Aphrodite be so sublime, 

so terrible, so more divine?

Is it not enough to live 

for the now and only for now?

To live for her hands tracing me?

Her eyes latched to mine?

 

Must we live forever?

 

 

A Conversation Between a Mother and Her Daughter

 

Was my sacrifice in vain? 

Clytemnestra mother,

In Atreus's house 

Did evil win?

Tell me true 

Of our 

Curse

 

Iphigenia daughter

He died for all his sins 

And as he went down

He last screamed out 

A curse, no

A name,

Yours

 

Clytemnestra Mother mine

How did my father die 

Were the hands yours, or

Small Orestes

How did that 

Man meet

Death?

 

Iphigenia daughter

Those wretched hands were mine 

Bitter savored blood 

Like flowers in  

The showers 

Of the 

Spring

 

Clytemnestra Cursed Wretch 

How could the queen kill king

Was my death in vain

It was to cleanse

Orestes 

Avenge 

Me

 

Iphigenia you don't 

Comprehend the pain that

I went through in years

When he was on

The Trojan 

Battle

Field

 

Clytemnestra I was a 

Daughter led to slaughter 

Like a bull in the 

Time of the spring 

Was my choice 

To die 

Young

 

Tell little Orestes to 

Avenge my sacrifice

Of saving the whole

Of Mycenae

With six last

Bitter 

Words

 

“I do not refuse to die

Notes:

So these are just some of my Greek myth poems (though I don't really write in this style anymore) there will probably be more later.