Tag: Classical

Poetry

Persephone

The Royal Octopus

In meadows vast, where sunlight played,
Among the blooms, the maiden strayed.
Her laughter rang, her feet were bare,
Her golden locks caught in the air.

But from the earth, a shadow rose,
A chariot dark where fire glows.
Hades, lord of the ashen plain,
Came swift to break her life in twain.

A scream, a struggle, petals torn,
The sky wept grief, the world forlorn.
Down to the depths, through veils of night,
She vanished, stolen from the light.

The Underworld, a realm of stone,
A hollow place, cold and alone.
Yet in its heart, a throne stood tall,
A seat of power beneath it all.

At first she wept; she cursed his name,
Bound by a fate that none could tame.
The pomegranate’s ruby stain,
Sealed her bond to his domain.

But as the days in shadow passed,
Her sorrow waned, her fear unmasked.
The silent dead bent to her will,
And in her chest stirred something still.

For she was more than harvest’s child,
More than a girl with spirit wild.
She saw in darkness hidden grace,
A strength to rule, a queen’s embrace.

No longer captive, she would reign,
With iron hand and tender vein.
Beside the king, her power grew,
A goddess born in realms anew.

And when spring called her to the skies,
To mother’s arms and azure ties,
She left behind a kingdom vast,
A part of her forever cast.

For in her heart, two worlds now meet,
A dual soul, both fierce and sweet.
Above, she blooms; below, she’s fire—
A queen fulfilled, her own desire.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Hymn to Dionysus

The Royal Octopus

O Dionysus, wild and free,
God of wine, of revelry,
With ivy crown and leopard’s grace,
You roam through night, in hidden place.

Your cup pours deep, both sweet and red,
A draught for gods, a dance for dead.
Your laughter shakes the mountain’s spine,
As mortals lose themselves in wine.

You, of the vine, the ecstasy,
The edge of joy, of mystery.
In shadowed woods, the Maenads cry,
Where boundaries fade and mortals fly.

Breaker of chains, you lead the way,
Where madness and bliss entwine and play.
Oh god who loves the wild and lost,
Who teaches joy at any cost.

O Dionysus, fierce and kind,
The muse of flesh, of heart, of mind.
We raise a glass, and sing to thee,
God of wine, of revelry.

©️ 2024

Poetry

Cassandra’s Truth

The Royal Octopus

Cassandra spoke, her voice like wind,
In temples high, where light grew dimmed;
The gods had touched her with their gift—
Of sight unasked, of mind adrift.

Apollo’s lips, she once had kissed,
And thus the god’s cruel curse was fixed;
To see all truths, in starkest glare,
Yet find no soul who’d heed her prayer.

She saw the fires before they burned,
The walls of Troy to ruins turned;
Her people laughed, dismissed her cries,
Blind to the truth within her eyes.

She warned of ships and war’s great cost,
Of heroes dead and cities lost.
But none would listen, none would stay—
A prophetess, pushed far away.

Her words, a lonely echo’s song,
Cursed to be right, but ever wrong;
In shadowed halls, her whispers fade,
Her warnings like the wind—betrayed.

And so she walks where silence reigns,
Through ancient dust and endless chains;
A voice unheard, her fate unspun—
The truth she bore, for no one won.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Sisters, Three.

The Royal Octopus

Three sisters sit by candle’s gleam,
Weaving lives from tangled dream.
Their fingers dance, both swift and slow,
As threads of fate begin to grow.

Clotho spins the silken line,
Her spindle hums, both fierce and fine.
In her hands, beginnings lie,
Moments born and minutes nigh.

Lachesis counts with measured grace,
Deciding each thread’s length and pace.
With steady hand, she marks the span,
The gift of time to every man.

Atropos waits with silver shears,
To cut the cord of days and years.
Her final snip, so cold and keen,
The line undone, the space between.

Three sisters hold the world’s design,
The spark of life, the swift decline.
In darkness deep and candle’s glow,
They weave the tale we’ll never know.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Scylla

The Royal Octopus

In a sea-stone cradle Scylla lay,
Once nymph of grace, now cast away.
Transformed by envy, wrath, and curse,
Her beauty gone, her fate much worse.

Where tides swirl dark and waters foam,
She guards her cliffs, her ghastly home.
Six heads rise from her twisted spine,
Each hungry maw a gaping sign.

Sailors quake and ships go still,
At sight of Scylla, fierce and chill.
Her howls echo through the deep,
Lulling hope and daring sleep.

Once she danced with lilies fair,
Now coils of terror braid her hair.
She mourns her past with every breath,
Bound forever to bring death.

But when the waves grow calm and low,
And silver tides in moonlight glow,
Perhaps, just once, in midnight’s veil,
She dreams of being whole and pale.

And yet the fates are never kind,
Her curse, like chains, in salt entwined.
Scylla waits in shadows’ lair,
A memory lost, a lingering snare.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Muses

The Royal Octopus

In hills where whispers weave the air,
Nine muses dwell, both bright and fair.
Each muse, a flame, an ageless spark,
Guiding hands through shadows dark.

Calliope lifts her voice on high,
Epic tales beneath the sky.
War and peace she deftly spins,
In every heart her story begins.

Clio, keeper of the past,
Scrolls of time she holds steadfast.
With ancient ink, in script so fine,
She writes the echoes that define.

Euterpe’s song, both sweet and clear,
Flows like rivers, draws us near.
Flutes sing softly, waters glide,
In her melody, worlds collide.

Thalia smiles, a playful guise,
Comedy gleams within her eyes.
With laughter light and mirth to lend,
She spins the jests that never end.

Melpomene, in sorrow’s grace,
Tears and masks she does embrace.
Tragic hearts and tales unfold,
In her shadow, stories told.

Terpsichore, in dance’s thrall,
Moves with grace, a rhythmic call.
Feet that glide, and arms that sway,
She brings life to night and day.

Erato chants of love so sweet,
In tender words her worlds do meet.
Soft and fervent, near and far,
Guided by her, hearts unbar.

Polyhymnia, solemn, still,
Sacred hymns her whispers fill.
Prayers and rites in reverent tone,
She sings to gods and gods alone.

Urania, stargazer bright,
Maps the heavens, tracks their flight.
With cosmic thought and wonder’s fire,
She draws the lines that dreams inspire.

Together they rise, voices entwined,
In song and dance, in verse and mind.
The muses guide, inspire, and play—
A timeless chorus, night and day.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Siren’s Song

The Royal Octopus

Upon the waves, they sing so sweet,
A haunting hymn, a call discreet.
With voices woven soft and deep,
They stir the sea, they steal the sleep.

Their words like honey, thick and slow,
Beneath the moon’s seductive glow,
Draw men from decks to ocean’s rim,
To chase that song on chance or whim.

They promise love, a soft embrace,
In waters deep, a dreamlike place.
The sailors gaze, their minds undone,
To kiss the tide, to sink as one.

And so they drift, forsaking shore,
Entangled souls forevermore.
For sirens’ songs, both sweet and wild,
Bewitch the heart and leave it riled.

They sing of warmth, they sing of home,
In liquid depths, where lost men roam,
Their voices echo, far and near,
The sirens’ song—a song of fear.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Theogony

The Royal Octopus

In darkness vast, where silence lay,
The cosmos churned in disarray.
Chaos reigned, the formless might,
A timeless void, devoid of light.

From Chaos’ womb came Earth, the bold,
Gaia, mother, fierce and old.
She swelled with mountains, streams, and trees,
A world from void, a breath, a breeze.

Next came Tartarus, dark and deep,
Where secrets dark and shadows sleep.
And Eros too, love’s spark, was born,
The binding force of dusk and dawn.

Gaia then with starry Sky,
Uranus, her mate on high,
Brought forth the Titans, fierce and grand,
Born from Earth’s creative hand.

Cronus, youngest, sly and proud,
In darkness forged a plan avowed—
To rend his father’s rule apart,
A savage claim, a ruthless heart.

The blood of Uranus, cast to sea,
Gave birth to more divinity:
The Furies, fierce, with eyes afire,
And Aphrodite, soft desire.

Yet Cronus ruled with iron fist,
Each child of his, condemned, dismissed.
Till Rhea bore a cunning son,
Zeus, the storm, the fated one.

In secret raised, with thunder’s might,
He claimed his birthright in the night.
With siblings freed, a war began,
Olympians rose to forge their plan.

With lightning, storm, and Titan’s fall,
The heavens shook, the earth’s enthral.
Olympus claimed, a realm divine,
As gods rose up in holy line.

Thus born were they, the Olympian throng,
The gods of myth, in story and song.
From Chaos’ depths to mountain’s throne,
Their might and rule forever known.

2024 ©️

Poetry

The Hidden Love

The Royal Octopus

In twilight’s hush, where shadows blend,
There danced a tale without an end:
Of Psyche, pure, with mortal breath,
And Eros, god of love and death.

She, a maiden mortal-bound,
With beauty rare and fate profound,
Caught the envy of gods above,
Yet knew not yet the depths of love.

Eros came, unseen by light,
A winged god masked by night,
He dared not show his face to see
What love in secret they might be.

With whispered touch and hidden hand,
He led her through a dream-wrought land,
Each night beside her, silent, true,
Yet always veiled from mortal view.

“Do not ask, and do not see,
For in the dark, we’re truly free.”
Yet Psyche’s heart, with questions pressed,
Longed to see her love confessed.

One fateful night, a candle’s glow,
Revealed the face she dared not know,
A god’s own gaze, both fierce and sweet,
And love lay broken at their feet.

The spell was cast; he slipped away,
As dawn dissolved their love to gray.
She wandered lands, crossed heaven’s gate,
For one last chance to mend their fate.

Through trials harsh and shadows steep,
Where gods would laugh and mortals weep,
Her courage shone—a light, a fire,
Born of pain and pure desire.

Till finally, through mercy’s grace,
She met her love in timeless space,
And as a goddess born anew,
She claimed a love both deep and true.

Eros and Psyche, star-bound flight,
Two souls entwined, in day and night,
Through mortal toil and godly scheme,
They found in each their truest dream.

2024 ©️

Poetry

Love Defined

The Royal Octopus

The sun and moon, a timeless pair,
A dance of light beyond compare.
By day, he rises, golden bright,
Casting warmth and chasing night.

She waits in shadows, silver glow,
With secrets only night can know.
In quiet grace, she takes her turn,
While he, in longing, watches, yearns.

They reach, they touch, but never meet,
Bound by fate’s eternal beat.
Across the sky, they chase and play,
In twilight’s blush and dawn’s soft gray.

Yet every dusk and dawn’s embrace
Is where they share a fleeting space,
A moment where their love is shown—
Two halves of light, yet all alone.

Forever bound, apart, entwined,
The sun and moon, are love defined.

2024 ©️