#greek myth poetry

i think about you when the sun dips low to kiss the earth

and the night engulfs the empty sky in an embrace

because i know that in silence,

that is when you are alive.

— death, please come for me too

we are children running on the shore,

sand creeping in the spaces of our toes

as we stomp hard enough to leave a mark

because this is all i know the world will remember me for.

we are children running on the shore,

feet never truly touching the sea

because something lives underneath the waves

and you always try to protect me from her.

we are children running on the shore,

hands clasped tightly with each other’s

as we cherish the times we have left to spend;

marking the days we did not know were counted.

and then i was a ghost stuck on the trojan shore,

desperate, and yet unknowing how, to come back to you.

— pyrrhus, why?

my love,

our souls have been bound longer than time can tell.

when i cursed my father for sending me away,

i did not know that it was but a thread in fate’s woven tale.

all of my shortcomings were meant to lead me to you;

the weakness of my hands

and the fear in my heart –

they all were telling me to come to you.

so my love,

this time around,

come to me quickly.

let not even death separate us.

just like how you were waiting for me in phthia,

i will be waiting for you from our tombs.

— from his ashes

they say we die twice.

the first is when our bodies decay

and rot after being hammered down

by the adversaries of the earth—

the first is when hector drove his spear

into your flesh,

tearing through the skin i remembered

countlessly caressing

and ripping you to your end.

the last is when our names are said for the final time

then the world would tumble and turn

and forget of our existences—

so let me be the person who will

never forget to say your name.

you were taken from me too soon,

too fast;

my heart remains shattered as though

a taut spear that has been snapped.

so let me be the one

who will say your name

until the world will never forget who you are;

until even apollo feels the guilt of having

taken you from me;

until all i am is you.

- your name means more than i love you’s.

counting the stars as though they are the scars

licking your face

simply to ask you

do you ever wonder why we hurt?

you must think i am mad

for turning to you in search for the answer

as to why the fragility embedded in this world remains constant;

for looking at you as though you are all that mattered.

and maybe i should have made clear—

that when the battalion was assembled

and i was made to tuck my heart

deep within my chest,

that when you handed me your beloved armour

and i turned to the field

pretending you were embracing me—

you are everything my being calls for.

that when divine apollo led hector’s sword to my being,

all i felt was you.

- my lover, we meet in death

i wish i could forgive myself for being human—

for wanting to be with you

(and getting angry

when the fates had torn apart the woven threads

of us);

for loving you

(enough to march into the war

with your name on my broken lips

and your kisses on my fingertips);

for dying for you

(because there is nothing more painful

than to try living a fulfilling life without you).

i wish i could forgive myself for being human—

for not being enough to stand beside you.

- what is a soldier to a hero?

“well now I understand, how a mother’s heart

can boil into such a brutal cold;

I have thawed my rage, as I am without command;

weak as I am, I fall before your demands. I am subjected; I am told.

Hades too shall have my babe, should

this predatory Winter’s swollen stomach grow –

I give you my ring in hopes that it birth

no more— that the frozen rivers will start to flow.

Fill our fields with cornucopias of corn,

bright and golden as that which I have bequeathed –

how we shall chant your praises, then!

You shall wear our bounty as a victor’s wreath.

I fear for my love. I do not cry, nor rest, just rage;

believe truly, goddess, that I understand your pain –

for, if it were I that could grip the Sun, I would care

for no burned fingers:

I would starve you all— you too, fellow mother—

and starve you still again.”

‘a mother’s offering, designed to move demeter,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1252

Cassandra laughs when
she learns that I have spurned no 
god and, still, am called

a liar, madly
burning until I echo
a city ruined.

So here’s my first Olympian illustration. I started with big daddy.

Can you all guess at the meaning of symbolism in the piece? (the animals, the winged figures above his hand, the eye-light beam-to figure on the temple?)

One challenge with these, is that I want to include a lot of visual references to the god’s story and background, but I don’t want the illustration to get too cluttered and overly busy. This becomes even more challenging as I add in textures, which can quickly become like a “visual noise.”

from the mortal to legend

One aspect of Artemis is undoubtedly that of the Moon.

Mythology by Jane Ellen Harrison

kazuoishiguro:

modern greek mythology stories aspenguin classics

the penelopiad by margaret atwood, lore olympus by rachel smythe, ariadneby jennifer saint, circeby madeline miller, the song of achiles by madeline miller, the lightning thief by rick riordan

the giver of everlasting life

aggressively listening to classical music while my roommate blasts rock music when I’m trying to do my music homework AGH

Narcissus & Echo

(…) 

Narcissus, who felt he was better than all others, frowned at Echo. « Why are your here ? » he asked.

« Here », repeated Echo.

« I wish you would go away! » Narcissus said.

« Away , » repeated Echo. She hid behind a tree and watched Narcissus.

Narcissus walked to a nearby pond to get a drink. When he bent down, he saw a beautiful face staring back at him. Narcissus smiled, and the face smiled back at him. He tried to touch the face, but it disappear under the water. Narcissus waited until the water was calm, and then looked again. The face was there once more.

« I can see you care for me just as I care for you, » Said Narcissus to the face in the water. « When I smile, you return my smile. Still, you won’t let me touch you. I will have to be content to stay here and gaze at your face. My heart is filled with love for you. »

Narcissus was so much in love that he forget to eat and drink. He grew pale and became ill. Even so, he didn’t leave the face in the pond. Finally, he died, and there, by the pond, a beautiful purple and white flower grew. The Gods called the flower Narcissus in memory of the youth who loved only himself.

Echo mourned the handsome Narcissus. She died of grief, unable to tell anyone about her love. Her voice is still heard repeating the last words she hears.

Narcisse et Echo

(…) Narcisse, qui pensait être mieux que les autres, fronce les sourcils à Echo. « Pourquoi es-tu ici? » demanda-t-il.

« Ici », répondit Echo.

« Je souhaiterai que tu partes ! » dit Narcisse.

« Part » répondit Echo. Elle se cacha derriere un arbre et regarda Narcisse.

Narcisse s’en alla près d’un étang, pour s’abreuver. Quand il se pencha, il vit un magnifique visage qui lui faisait face. Narcisse sourit, et le visage lui sourit en retour. Il tenta de toucher le visage, mais il disparu de la surface de l’eau. Narcisse attendit que l’eau soit de nouveau calme et regarda. Le visage était là une fois de plus.

« Je peux voir que tu tiens a moi autant que je tiens a toi », dit Narcisse au visage dans l’eau. « Lorsque je souris, tu me souris en retour. Et pourtant, tu ne me laisse pas te toucher. Je serai ravi de rester ici et t’admirer. Mon coeur est rempli d’amour pour toi » .

« Amour pour toi, » répondit Echo tristement, mais Narcisse ne semble pas l’entendre.

Il admira son reflet dans l’eau. Narcisse tombait amoureux de lui-même.

Narcisse fut tellement en amour, qu’il en oublia de manger et de boire. Il perdit de ses forces et tomba malade. Il ne quitta pas le visage dans l’eau pour autant. Finalement, il mourra près de l’étang, et près de l’eau, une fleur magnifique, teintée de violet et de blanc poussa.

Les Dieux appelèrent la fleur Narcisse, pour se souvenir du jeune homme qui tomba amoureux de lui-même.

Echo porta le deuil de Narcisse. Elle mourra de chagrin, incapable de parler de son amour.

Cependant, sa voix est toujours entendue, répétant sans cesse les derniers mots qu’elle entend.

moon archer OC of a friend