Posted in Poetry

In the Ruins of the Temple of Artemis

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Artemis, a Goddess of the Moon (from google)

Over the relics of the marvels that belonged once
To a sacred dwelling of a Lunar Goddess, a divine
Maiden of Wild Beauty and Eternal Chastity destined
To chase the wild from dawn till dusk with her golden
Arrows missing nothing even from the top of Olympus,
A High Moon spoke with full of pathos of her immortal story.

“I once lived on the isle of Sicily with Athena and Persephone,
Gathering flowers in the Elysian Fields during the days,
Weaving our father Zeus’ robe at nights under the Moon and Stars
Enjoying our muliebrity unscathed by the lust of amorous men
Whose lascivious desire of women would forever be inordinate,
Spurning Eros, Aphrodite, Songs of Love, and Bliss of Marriages.”

“Then heard was no more; a mirth of our Persephone was heard
Nowhere, for Hades, the god of Underworld, swiftly abducted her
In his chariot and disappeared into the pit of the world down under,
Where I and Athena could not penetrate even with our divine aide,
Ending the blissful companionship of sisterhood for once for all – forever!
And thus I left the isle in quest of eternal pursuit of wild beasts alone.”

“Immune from the spells of Aphrodite and the arrows of Eros,
I am an eternal maiden who is free from marital obligations
So that I can chase down wild beasts with my ever loyal hunting
Companions of a Bear, A Wolf, and a Stag behind me all day long
And dispense my vengeful justice to all devoid of decency and civility,
Like the ones who were cruel to my mother, my brother, and me!

Such was the litany of woes told by a Goddess of the Moon
On a night when a Full High Moon filled the night alone,
Shining brightly alone above a lonely traveler listening to her
Tale of her divine destiny of solitude chasing her objects of
Pleasure for ever- forever continuing till her father Zeus takes
Away her immortality in pity and makes her a star next to Orion.

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Posted in Poetry

Herculean Rhapsody

horses
Courtesy of google.com

Thousands of years ago when gods and goddesses
Lived among the mortal and made love to them,
There lived a man in Greece across the oceans
Whose muscles invincible, confidence supernatural,
His spirit all greatness, all sincerity, all eagerness,
Untainted by the vanity of his divine heritage of Zeus.

A fruit of lustful possession of the mortal beauty
Named Alcmena by Zeus, the god of gods, in slumber,
The son of god, the infant prodigy toying with a snake,
Grew out to be on a par with the strength and esteem of gods
That was the sacred prerogative exclusive to the Olympian.

But lo! It was nothing but the elitism of the gods, for he could
Threaten the Sun to make it cool, waves when his boat’s tossed at seas,
And his music teacher for forcing him to play the lute against his will.
But alas, this man of incorruptible pride, of exceptional valor
Was to be pierced by the unquenchable flame of jealousy and
Hatred of Hera, the wife of Zeus, for his being the love child of
Her ever amorous husband whose objects of passion knew
No boundary between the mortal and immortal evermore,
Which she couldn’t bear at the sight of Heracles, nevermore.

Thus, Hera cast the spell of Madness upon the son of Zeus,
Making him blind with terrible rage, talking sound and fury,
And exciting him to slay his wife and their three sons with a sword
smeared with their blood so crimson, so warm with their last breaths,
Leaving the wretched man in a bottomless pit of guilt and shame
In his awakening from the bewitched madness driven by the sulphurous
Envy of the wife of god, who sired this son of god, who loved his mother.

The great surge of remorse swept over Heracles with wells of tears,
The sublime wish to expiate his sin suddenly urged him to go
To the Oracle of Delphi for Apollo’s guidance for his penance,
Where the sacred priestess in fits of divine frenzy told him to
Eurystheus, King of Mycenae, his cousin, the inferior to his being
To purge out his sins of Matricide, Uxoricide, Prolicide, and Filicide,
Once for all, in the name of Apollo, god of the Sun, Truth, and Healing.

Thus obeyed Heracles, our wretched but genuine man of courage,
Who, at the command of Eurystheus, his loyal cousin, undertook
The Twelve Great Labors so impossible, so unthinkable, so incredible
By himself, alone, in act of penitence that was so brutal, so primordial as thus:

Killing the Lion was met by vanquishing the Hydra;
Then he had to capture the Stag and the Boar;
He even deigned to clean the filthy Stables in a single day
To kill the monster Bids, followed by capturing of the bull;
Thereupon, he rounded up the Mares to steal the Girdle;
Herded the Cattle so unmanageable and untamable;
Went to fetch the Apples and then captured the Dog of the Underworld.

The Greatness of the Spirit, the Purity of the Soul,
Far excellent, far above the Reason clothed in cowardly pride,
Far higher than arrogance and hypocrisy in the guise of intelligence,
Was the name of Heracles to whom no fear and intimidation did appear,
Nor the impossibility, nor injustice did exist in therein eternally evermore
enshrined in the memory of the half-man, half-god who once lived among us.

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