Myth Poems
Cleaver of Devil’s Kitchen
by Rikske Kessner
They name me Cleaver, though I am no hand,
but the patient edge of centuries,
a blade honed by the Southern swell,
by wind that tastes of iron and kelp.
I split the dolerite as kin are split —
not in malice, but in the slow necessity
of tide and time,
each fracture a journal of what was kept,
......
A Prohibition Is A Commandment
by Ayatullah Nurjati
It's strange in an area that there are so many violations
Prohibitions in the law as if always violated
Even though the myth is already thick there
It's strange when there is a sentence ordering don't do it
The law was made to be broken for the violator
Moreover, legal experts or legal experts seem immune to the law
For violators of the prohibition is an order to be carried out
How about me? I'm just an observer who occasionally violates, but only a little
That Infamous Myth
by Carl Halling
I was once in thrall to the infamous myth
Of the artiste souffrant,
But I’ve come ultimately to see it
As the cruellest of delusions.
But could it not be said
That it’s still among us,
That malefic notion
That the artist is a spirit set apart
For some special purpose,
Of which pain is an essential component?
......
A Myth of Devotion
by Louise Gluck
When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,
but with a bed added.
Everything the same, including sunlight,
because it would be hard on a young girl
to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness
Gradually, he thought, he'd introduce the night,
......
Ariadne
by AT. at.
The golden bird is singing
in a sparse forest. Rain falls
on the black foliage. Nobody
listens. That is the pain, of this world
that comes from the inside
of your thigh, Ariadne.
In your stellar robes
you envelop the sky
and crude mountains touch
the tips of your unseen breasts.
......
Cleaver of Devil’s Kitchen
by Rikske Kessner
They name me Cleaver, though I am no hand,
but the patient edge of centuries,
a blade honed by the Southern swell,
by wind that tastes of iron and kelp.
I split the dolerite as kin are split —
not in malice, but in the slow necessity
of tide and time,
each fracture a journal of what was kept,
......
Poisons, Lies, and Silent Crimes
by Igor Vykhovanets
Saving for a Rainy Day
"Save for black day!"—so they preach.
Now it’s here—but fools won't see.
Slaves to evil, dull and meek,
Hoard their lies in misery.
Counting, trusting, full of fear,
Planning decades far ahead.
Yet when shadows gather near,
......
A Prohibition Is A Commandment
by Ayatullah Nurjati
It's strange in an area that there are so many violations
Prohibitions in the law as if always violated
Even though the myth is already thick there
It's strange when there is a sentence ordering don't do it
The law was made to be broken for the violator
Moreover, legal experts or legal experts seem immune to the law
For violators of the prohibition is an order to be carried out
How about me? I'm just an observer who occasionally violates, but only a little
Ariadne
by AT. at.
The golden bird is singing
in a sparse forest. Rain falls
on the black foliage. Nobody
listens. That is the pain, of this world
that comes from the inside
of your thigh, Ariadne.
In your stellar robes
you envelop the sky
and crude mountains touch
the tips of your unseen breasts.
......
Truth
by Tom Lathara
Truth died. It was a long time coming.
The sad demise surprised many,
fondly remembered, deeply mourned
She was of good stock and had a good run
sturdy and stolid, defended many who ran to her side.
The cause of death, yet to be revealed
but a widely whispered secret flew from ear to ear.
It was not of natural causes
but prolonged asphyxiation due to external pressure.
......
