Transit of the Gods
Strange that the self’s continuum should outlast
The Virgin, Aphrodite, and the Mourning Mother,
All loves and griefs, successive deities
That hold their kingdom in the human breast.
Abandoned by the gods, woman with an ageing body
That half remembers the Annunciation
The passion and the travail and the grief
That wore the mask of my humanity,
I marvel at the soul’s indifference.
For in her theatre the play is done,
The tears are shed; the actors, the immortals
In their ceaseless manifestation, elsewhere gone,
And I who have been Virgin and Aphrodite,
The mourning Isis and the queen of corn
Wait for the last mummer, dread Persephone
To dance my dust at last into the tomb.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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hero And Leander
** HERO AND LEANDER
The Dardanelles is a narrow strait which links, -
The strait of Bosporus with the Aegean Sea;
And also separates the European from the Asian
side of Turkey!
In the ancient days this strait was better known
as Hellespont,
With its narrowest stretch between Sestos and
Abydos!
Hero, the beautiful virgin priestess of Aphrodite*, -
Lived in Sestos on the European side!
Leander a fiery youth from Abydos, lived on
the opposite side of Sestos!
Leander saw Hero at a religious festival at Sestos,
And it was love at first sight we are assured!
Leander wooed Hero with many soft words of
entreaty;
How could Aphrodite the Goddess of Love and
Beauty, -
Accept a virgin’s worship in the logic of all
things?
For it never did fit in to the scheme of things!
Hero finally consented and returned Leander’s
love!
Every night she lit a lamp on Sesto’s tower above!
To guide Leander as he swam the Hellespont -
And to come safely to her waiting shores!
One day a violent storm broke out at sea, -
Making Leander to drift far out at sea!
The strong winds had extinguished Hero’s
tower light,
What fate ordains can hardly be denied!
Hero jumped from the tower overcome with
grief,
And at the bottom of the Hellespont they both
peacefully sleep!
-Raj Nandy
18 Apr 09
New Delhi
(Composed this poem-based on an old Greek myth I
came across reading Byzantine History! *Greek Aphrodite -
is the Roman Venus, – the goddess of love.)
Homer's Hymn To Venus
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Aphrodite,
Who wakens with her smile the lulled delight
Of sweet desire, taming the eternal kings
Of Heaven, and men, and all the living things
That fleet along the air, or whom the sea,
Or earth, with her maternal ministry,
Nourish innumerable, thy delight
All seek ... O crowned Aphrodite!
Three spirits canst thou not deceive or quell:--
Minerva, child of Jove, who loves too well
Fierce war and mingling combat, and the fame
Of glorious deeds, to heed thy gentle flame.
Diana ... golden-shafted queen,
Is tamed not by thy smiles; the shadows green
Of the wild woods, the bow, the...
And piercing cries amid the swift pursuit
Of beasts among waste mountains,--such delight
Is hers, and men who know and do the right.
Nor Saturn’s first-born daughter, Vesta chaste,
Whom Neptune and Apollo wooed the last,
Such was the will of aegis-bearing Jove;
But sternly she refused the ills of Love,
And by her mighty Father’s head she swore
An oath not unperformed, that evermore
A virgin she would live mid deities
Divine: her father, for such gentle ties
Renounced, gave glorious gifts--thus in his hall
She sits and feeds luxuriously. O’er all
In every fane, her honours first arise
From men--the eldest of Divinities.
These spirits she persuades not, nor deceives,
But none beside escape, so well she weaves
Her unseen toils; nor mortal men, nor gods
Who live secure in their unseen abodes.
She won the soul of him whose fierce delight
Is thunder--first in glory and in might.
And, as she willed, his mighty mind deceiving,
With mortal limbs his deathless limbs inweaving,
Concealed him from his spouse and sister fair,
Whom to wise Saturn ancient Rhea bare.
but in return,
In Venus Jove did soft desire awaken,
That by her own enchantments overtaken,
She might, no more from human union free,
Burn for a nursling of mortality.
For once amid the assembled Deities,
The laughter-loving Venus from her eyes
Shot forth the light of a soft starlight smile,
And boasting said, that she, secure the while,
Could bring at Will to the assembled Gods
The mortal tenants of earth’s dark abodes,
And mortal offspring from a deathless stem
She could produce in scorn and spite of them.
Therefore he poured desire into her breast
Of young Anchises,
Feeding his herds among the mossy fountains
Of the wide Ida’s many-folded mountains,--
Whom Venus saw, and loved, and the love clung
Like wasting fire her senses wild among.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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God Of Thunder
You've got something about you
You've got something I need
Daughter of Aphrodite
Hear my words and take heed
I was born on Olympus
To my father a son
I was raised by the demons
Trained to reign as the one
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell you're under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
I'm the lord of the wastelands
A modern day man of steel
I gather darkness to please me
And I command you to kneel
Before the
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell you're under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
I am the lord of the wastelands
A modern day man of steel
I gather darkness to please me
And I command thee to kneel
Before the
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell you're under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond the veil of midnight shadows
Only the gods shall know our destination
Beyond the gates of earthly ends
Yet we as Gods may know creation
As our best – most beloved of friends.
Beyond the veil of midnight shadows
Beyond the call of dancing lights
Beyond the shriek of mourning widows
Shall await our Father White.
Our Virgin mother holds her shroud
To conceal her deepest mystery
And all is loved as one below
The shade of rooted trees.
The wisdom of the old is new
The sky at night reveals
The freedom of the old is true
The eyes of night conceal.
poem by David Lacey
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Weltschmertz
You ask why I am sad to-day,
I have no cares, no griefs, you say?
Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no grief--
But--is there not the falling leaf?
The bare tree there is mourning left
With all of autumn's gray bereft;
It is not what has happened me,
Think of the bare, dismantled tree.
The birds go South along the sky,
I hear their lingering, long good-bye.
Who goes reluctant from my breast?
And yet--the lone and wind-swept nest.
The mourning, pale-flowered hearse goes by,
Why does a tear come to my eye?
Is it the March rain blowing wild?
I have no dead, I know no child.
I am no widow by the bier
Of him I held supremely dear.
I have not seen the choicest one
Sink down as sinks the westering sun.
Faith unto faith have I beheld,
For me, few solemn notes have swelled;
Love bekoned me out to the dawn,
And happily I followed on.
And yet my heart goes out to them
Whose sorrow is their diadem;
The falling leaf, the crying bird,
The voice to be, all lost, unheard--
Not mine, not mine, and yet too much
The thrilling power of human touch,
While all the world looks on and scorns
I wear another's crown of thorns.
Count me a priest who understands
The glorious pain of nail-pierced hands;
Count me a comrade of the thief
Hot driven into late belief.
Oh, mother's tear, oh, father's sigh,
Oh, mourning sweetheart's last good-bye,
I yet have known no mourning save
Beside some brother's brother's grave.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter
Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.
Yet that fond mother praised, the world caressed,
And ONE adored me -- how shall HE who soon
Shall wear my gentle flower upon his breast,
Prize to its utmost worth the priceless boon?
Shall he not gird her, guard her, make her rich,
(Not as the world is rich, in outward show,)
With all the love and watchful kindness which
A wise and tender manhood may bestow?
Oh! I shall part from her with many tears,
My earthly treasure, pure and undefiled!
And not without a weight of anxious fears
For the new future of my darling child.
And yet -- for well I know that virgin heart --
No wifely duty will she leave undone;
Nor will her love neglect that woman's art
Which courts and keeps a love already won.
In no light girlish levity she goes
Unto the altar where they wait her now,
But with a thoughtful, prayerful heart that knows
The solemn purport of a marriage vow.
And she will keep, with all her soul's deep truth,
The lightest pledge which binds her love and life;
And she will be -- no less in age than youth
My noble child will be -- a noble wife.
And he, her lover! husband! what of him?
Yes, he will shield, I think, my bud from blight!
Yet griefs will come -- enough! my eyes are dim
With tears I must not shed -- at least, to-night.
Bless thee, my daughter! -- Oh! she is so fair! --
Heaven bend above thee with its starriest skies!
And make thee truly all thou dost appear
Unto a lover's and thy mother's eyes!
poem by Henry Timrod
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The Pain of the Earth
DOES the earth grow grey with grief
For her hero darling fled?
Though her vales let fall no leaf,
In our hearts her tears are shed.
Still the stars laugh on above:
Not to them her grief is said;
Mourning for her hero love
In our hearts the tears are shed.
We her children mourn for him,
Mourn the elder hero dead;
In the twilight grey and dim
In our hearts the tears are shed.
poem by George William Russell
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God Of Thunder
Youve got something about you
Youve got something I need
Daughter of aphrodite
Hear my words and take heed
I was born on olympus
To my father a son
I was raised by the demons
Trained to reign as the one
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell youre under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
Im the lord of the wastelands
A modern day man of steel
I gather darkness to please me
And I command you to kneel
Before the
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell youre under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
I am the lord of the wastelands
A modern day man of steel
I gather darkness to please me
And I command thee to kneel
Before the
God of thunder and rock and roll
The spell youre under
Will slowly rob you of your virgin soul
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stanzas: A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter, Arrayed For An Approaching Bridal.
Written in Illustration of a Tableau Vivant
Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.
Yet that fond mother praised, the world caressed,
And ONE adored me -- how shall HE who soon
Shall wear my gentle flower upon his breast,
Prize to its utmost worth the priceless boon?
Shall he not gird her, guard her, make her rich,
(Not as the world is rich, in outward show,)
With all the love and watchful kindness which
A wise and tender manhood may bestow?
Oh! I shall part from her with many tears,
My earthly treasure, pure and undefiled!
And not without a weight of anxious fears
For the new future of my darling child.
And yet -- for well I know that virgin heart --
No wifely duty will she leave undone;
Nor will her love neglect that woman's art
Which courts and keeps a love already won.
In no light girlish levity she goes
Unto the altar where they wait her now,
But with a thoughtful, prayerful heart that knows
The solemn purport of a marriage vow.
And she will keep, with all her soul's deep truth,
The lightest pledge which binds her love and life;
And she will be -- no less in age than youth
My noble child will be -- a noble wife.
And he, her lover! husband! what of him?
Yes, he will shield, I think, my bud from blight!
Yet griefs will come -- enough! my eyes are dim
With tears I must not shed -- at least, to-night.
Bless thee, my daughter! -- Oh! she is so fair! --
Heaven bend above thee with its starriest skies!
And make thee truly all thou dost appear
Unto a lover's and thy mother's eyes!
poem by Henry Timrod
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Sonnet: Mary, Mother of God
O Heavenly Mother of Jesus Christ!
O Virgin Queen, our Mother too, divine
Who bore Him, yet became disciple first,
O Mother Great of Velankanni shrine.
O Mary, born without Original Sin!
Loving Mother of God’s begotten Son;
Conceived by Holy Spirit, still virgin;
Queen of Heaven, crowned stars and sun!
From earth, Mary assumed into Heaven;
The serpent Satan failed to win, because;
Mother of Perpetual Help for all men,
Mother of Sorrows saw Son die on cross.
O Mary, Intercessor, Lord’s with thee!
Pray for sinners, on earth and Purgatory.
13-6-2001
poem by John Celes
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On the Infancy of Our Savior
Hail! blessed Virgin, full of heavenly grace,
Blest above all that sprang from human race,
Whose heaven-saluted womb brought forth in one
A blessed Savior and a blessed Son.
O what a ravishment 't had been to see
Thy little Savior perking on thy knee!
To see Him nuzzle in thy virgin breast,
His milk-white body all unclad, undressed;
To see thy busy fingers clothe and wrap
His spraddling limbs in thy indulgent lap;
To see His desperate eyes with childish grace
Smiling upon His smiling mother's face;
And when His forward strength began to bloom
To see Him diddle up and down the room.
O who would think so sweet a Babe as this
Should ere be slain by a false-hearted kiss?
Had I a rag, if sure Thy body wore it,
Pardon, sweet Babe, I think I should adore it;
Till then, O grant this boon, a boon far dearer:
The weed not being, I may adore the Wearer.
poem by Francis Quarles
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Of Offerings
Dost thou understandeth not
Unleashed evil on thy doors
Thy senses in ropes
Knotted
Ancient deities
Personification of the evil
In nature and man
In woman
In beast
Some curse
A sacrifice on the scale
From bad to worse
Human blood
A virgin head
Some sweets
Feast to many
Signs understood
In fabrications
Be a host
Sometimes
Of offerings in alms
In charity
To widen the heart
Much space for every soul
Be the dust particle
In the sea of sand
9/9/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Power Rangers Ninja Virgin
Oh Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go!
Sin in the wind
Go!
Rock your body like thunder
Oh Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go
Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go
The call is on
Their sweetness is cumming on strong
They'll do it in any kind of weather
Never say no
Ninja Virgin
Let's do it together
The arousal will grow
Go! Cum on! Let's go!
Power Rangers Virgin Go!
Power Rangers Ninja Virgin
Got me growing
It's growing!
Oh baby it's growing!
Go Power Rangers
Go Ninja Virgin
Let's go!
Sin in the wind
Go!
Rock your body like thunder
Oh Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go
Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go!
Oh Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go
Power Rangers
Oh Ninja Virgin
Let's go!
poem by Ramona Thompson
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We put the urn abord ship
We put the urn aboard ship
with this inscription:
This is the dust of little
Timas who unmarried was led
into Persephone's dark bedroom
And she being far from home, girls
her age took new-edged blades
to cut, in mourning for her,
these curls of their soft hair
Virgin's Dew
Virgin's dew reminds me of you
bathing in bond of lover's hue.
Virgin's dew, Le juste milieu:
when we're
'Here',
en France;
solving the green, red and gold.
Virgin's dew chains me to you;
'mordial mortal matrix,
duplicitous double helix:
alchemic sol et lune.
Virgin's dew tries me too...
how I put up with your husband and
all of his pitifully-insignificant whinings of
something which mercifully escapes me right now.
But virgin's dew endears me to virtue;
that giggling little girl I woke up with,
frolicking unashamed
in the mouth of our naked morning star.
Virgin's dew, my babe of the Babylon blue.
So 'deuscing and delicate, inspirate you:
Slut and my Savior;
'suaging, sagely screw.
Virgin's dew smells like you
sweating magic tears of pheromone
in the light of God's very own breath.
And virgin's dew fuels fantasies of you
when I'm all by my lonesome,
in sublimest, finest fucking form I
cannot help but possibly think of you.
Virgin's dew, my tailored taste of taboo:
kissing Rose Crosses with a feather of silk
on this begging body when I'm all tied-up.
Yes, virgin's dew still reminds me of you
when I'm not quite finished here yet;
savoring enigmatic, idiosyncratic,
mmm... samadhic you.
Virgin's dew, my confessor & confidant who
calls on God with my feeble name of something less;
I am not worthy of you.
Virgin's dew, so becuming of you:
my None and 0nly;
I Adore You.
Virgin's dew, how ever I love you too:
with every aching ounce of
my sun and bonum;
this day am I hopelessly devoted to you.
R andy Resh 1999
poem by Randy Resh
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To control women
Goddess Athena is a virgin.
Mother Mary is a virgin.
Virgin state inspires your cults,
Your pride and your merits.
Virginity is a social invention
Designed by men to control women.
21.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Her beauty in the nightfall firmament
I was blindfold and they labeled me as an unfortunate soul
who wanders for a virgin.
They proposed me a virgin and said' you cannot remove the cloth
until you find a river; then you can go freely with this virgin.'
I agreed; Oh! for the first time in my life
I touched a woman's hand and it's trembling like a rabbit.
On the way she told ' please we live forever in blindfold;
we are at the bridge and I can hear the river flows.
'I have to remove and it's a must' I said.
Then I found her tears on my hand; like acidity.
Oh! her blindness brought me the utmost sadness.
And at last I decided to swim together in the upstream.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Even Buddhas Die
even buddhas die...
but without mourning,
without a sense of loss,
without asking for tears.
but they do feel mourning,
yours...
they do feel a sense of loss,
yours....
and they shed tears,
that are yours....
and so reborn by choice,
to help carry your bucket,
and walk beside you...
for buddhas help buddhas
till all are free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Mourning Air
Did I see a moment with you
In a half lit world
Im frightened to believe
But I must try
If I stumble if I fall
Im reaching out in this mourning air, ohh
Have I got the strength to ask
Beyond the window
I feel this fear alone
Until we have
Total honesty
If I tremble or fall
Im reaching out in this mourning air, ohh
Should I feel a moment with you
To softly whisper
I crave nothing else so much
Longing to reveal
Total honesty
I can feel your touch
Im reaching out in this mourning air, ohh
Im reaching out in this mourning air, ohh.
song performed by by Portishead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Libera Me
Goddess the laughter-loving, Aphrodite, befriend!
Long have I served thine altars, serve me now at the end,
Let me have peace of thee, truce of thee, golden one, send.
Heart of my heart have I offered thee, pain of my pain,
Yielding my life for the love of thee into thy chain;
Lady and goddess be merciful, loose me again.
All things I had that were fairest, my dearest and best,
Fed the fierce flames on thine altar: ah, surely, my breast
Shrined thee alone among goddesses, spurning the rest.
Blossom of youth thou hast plucked of me, flower of my days;
Stinted I nought in thine honouring, walked in thy ways,
Song of my soul pouring out to thee, all in thy praise.
Fierce was the flame while it lasted, and strong was thy wine,
Meet for immortals that die not, for throats such as thine,
Too fierce for bodies of mortals, too potent for mine.
Blossom and bloom hast thou taken, now render to me
Ashes of life that remain to me, few though they be,
Truce of the love of thee, Cyprian, let me go free.
Goddess the laughter-loving, Aphrodite, restore
Life to the limbs of me, liberty, hold me no more
Having the first-fruits and flower of me, cast me the core.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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