Persephone Thesis: EssayPersephone Thesis: Essay ComponentPersephone Thesis: Essay6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
"Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries!
It is generally accepted among historical scholars that the cult of Demeter and Persephone, or Kore, existed in Greece and the surrounding Mediterranean islands long before the traditional Olympian gods became entrenched. Her origins are Cretan . Like Aphrodite, the mother and daughter goddess represent a matriarchal form of fertility worship in the forms of crops and nature, and through this the cycle of birth, growth and death. This myth, however, has taken hold of imaginations from its evolutions into the Eleusinian mysteries of Ancient Greece, to the paintings of Victorian Europe, to today, each with their own distinctive takes and emphases on the story. Perhaps it is the fact that we know so little about the original tale of Persephone the daughter of Demeter, goddess of fertility, snatched
Why is There a God?Why is there a God?Why is There a God?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
What makes Him there?
Why is he powerful?
Why does he care?
What if God is evil,
Everything bad you see?
With all the evil here,
It's not far-fetched to me.
What if God is weak,
And just trying his best?
Every bit of evil,
Is him failing his test.
What if God is lonely,
And wishes he could talk?
Envies the humans,
That on Earth walk.
What if God is uncaring,
More important things to do?
He isn't at all worried,
What happens to you.
What if God is overwhelmed,
With everything he knows?
He tries to block it out,
Ignoring where it goes.
What if God is sleeping,
And will wake up late?
Soon he'll realize,
This effect on fate.
What if God is focused,
And can't see the world?
Too busy helping,
The praying little girl.
What if God isn't real,
And your religion is fake?
I have to wonder,
What difference it would make.
AfterthoughtAfterthoughtAfterthought2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
It surprises me when people remember to acknowledge my existence,
But just ‘cause I don’t expect people to remember me,
Doesn’t mean it feels any less worse when I’m forgotten.
That’s just me though, an afterthought; great for a few months until I’m no longer a necessity.
Shadow of the Colossus poemHear this the tale of a lost soulShadow of the Colossus poem2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Long live he, the Wanderer and his steed Arbhach
For they ventured past the transcending bridge
Into the valley of the shadow of the colossi
Entered he the halls of stone, and bartered with Dormin
"Pledge thee, in return for thine bidding, the maiden's life shall be returned"
And Dormin spoke
"Verily, it shalt be done. But the price to pay shall be heavy"
By Dormin's command he pledged to vanquish
The sixteen gods of stone
In the hopes that his maiden's life
A promise only possible in the Valley of the Shadow of the Colossi
With Arbhach his steed, and siúinéir solais his sword,
And love strengthening his will
He ventured and fought these God's of Stone
Attacking at the mharc ar an clocha Dia
But the price was heavy indeed
For these sixteen were portions of a single whole
But the Wanderer knew not
Aye, that Dormin once was a Damned God
Overwhelmed by the Wanderer's Clan
Shattered into sixteen pieces
He was spread to the eight e
Elegon FairytaleThe water was lonely. It ran from river to river, ocean to ocean, alone. Many of the creatures that lived in the water paid it no mind, continuing on with their own life, unaware of the water's. The water decided one day to make itself some companions, someone to flow and keep company with. The water watched many humans at its rivers and oceans and created, what the water called, Ulas based off of the females. Some were made of water while others were made of scales and flesh. The Ulas made the rain and took care of the sea and river life during the day, while they played all night.Elegon Fairytale3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
One night, the air passed by the river and saw the Ulas playing and dancing along the water. The air suddenly felt lonely, just as the water had. It blew through the lands all alone and decided that it could use companions as well. The wind called them Auras. The air, like the water, designed them as female humans made of air and flowing dresses. The Auras traveled with the wind and their domain was the sky
A Piece of MeA rayA Piece of Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Sleep WellBedtime storiesSleep Well8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
are told by memories,
and often end
with a hero dying inside us.
White Ballet ShoesEveryone watchWhite Ballet Shoes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She dances in the meadows
Sweet, white ballet shoes
Fairy Ring!I found fairy ring todayFairy Ring!3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Eerie place for midnight play
Glow worms sit on magic leaves
Stage is set, time to believe.
Audience ready, moonless night
Creatures wait to see this sight
Wings flutter, sound like bees
Descend beneath guarding trees.
Into fairy ring they sweep
Beautiful dancing, soul could weep
Glow worms fall slowly to the ground
Dying light, made no sound.
Fairy music does not last long
Just like twilight come and gone
Look with care you might see
Fairies sparkling hilarity.
.when her love left, it left.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the house empty
and she says
i hope one day it'll
come back to me,
cos i don't keep this shotgun
on my front porch for nothin'
Paradoxes in her bonesand she always dismisses herselfParadoxes in her bones2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and leaves her pupils dilated
lighthouses and forget-me-nots tangled in her chest
but her thoughts shiver more than her dreams.
he calls her beautiful
as she longs to stick his eyes out with stones
and grasp his aching heart between her hands
but they both know he's already broken.
how can they stop when they've never started
she wishes she could send them reeling
with stalwart syllables and poignant sighs
even though she's never made a sound.
the storms outside are bitter
no sweet rain after dusk to wet her lips
the winds inside her are quiet, and seething
with all the words she's never said
and all the promises she's ever broken.
Survival of the FittestHear me read itSurvival of the Fittest2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am crack'd. Open to the pit
with the nub and root exposed.
I am silver pierced and punctured
with holes and protruding pieces
of rocked raw wounds rubbed open.
I am barely shattering my lungs
by inhaling the same air as you
even long after your departure.
With a bile-laced smile I pave
and fill in crack and crevices
I am more than disfigured limbs
and disillusioned heart muscle,
scraping a breath down my trachea.
More than the mess you have made.
I hold in my innards, and survive.
fracturesbindweed lungs spill throughfractures2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my oak branch ribs,
up my throat and
around my thorny tongue
make their way down to
cross my clavicles,
elbows and cracked milky
they hold me tighter than you ever did
Blissfully RancidWe humans tend to drink Hope,Blissfully Rancid10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
far beyond the expiration date.
Reading the labels prevents us,
from being satisfactorily blind.
We'll sport rose-colored glasses,
even as they've poisoned our retinas.
Our priorities curdle as existence ferments,
until the resulting scent makes us reel.
And we all whine,
when our soured reality makes us vomit.
/ we smile at the universe with ashes on our lips. there are boats inside of our veins. the blood is a metaphor and, hell, i can't even begin to write about her./1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
i could tell any story. if i wanted, i could write a novel about my mother and how beautiful she was a sixteen or i could make a lighthouse a person, but i cannot tell you the color or her eyes. it's that that i don't know it; i just can't tell you. it's not a color, it's a place.
her eyes are like Chicago. there's life and lights and lakes, but there's a sadness, too. even so, it's a happy kind of sad. the kind that gives you hope.
sometimes when i'm high i think that i'm dead, because i get numb. not physically senseless, but just mentally dazed. i forget where i am. i like that. it seems sometimes like i am a place, i am all the street signs and the cracks in the road and badly painted house down the way. see the really faint dot on the map? that's me. scribb
We are the broken ones.kiss my scars tonight,We are the broken ones.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i will dream in your arms
of stars shining bright
Because the world is in flames around us
Flames as bright and blinding as the sun
The world is in storms around us
Those storms are deafening and loud while we run
Don't you believe me
Won't you believe me
Let us be brave and
Cry our tears away
These aren't lies,
They are battle cries,
We will make it through
I will see you through
The sadness, through the pain
We are the broken ones. We are the torn.
We are the homesick ones, we are the worn.
Tell me you'll love me when the sun turns blue,
Tell me you'll love me like the garden spruce,
We are the broken ones, we are the shattered
We are the warriors, bloody and battered
Tell me you'll love me when the oceans are dry
Tell me you'll love me when I can't even cry
We are the broken ones.
We will make it through.
.i feel change, the way.2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the birdsong changes when the
cat goes out for lunch
a vespertine hauntingi was once six years olda vespertine haunting2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and i was once cradled
in the tired arms of a
who could only cry
and she'd call sometimes,
"Cass," she'd say,
"baby, i've been drinking again
and your father left -
baby, he left and i can't find him."
i'd put her books away then
and try to find the pills
she never wanted to take.
"do you think he's hiding, Cassandra?"
"no," i'd say, and tie her hands;
i was so much more
of my father than i would have liked
to be, "he told me you need these."
"oh no i don't, baby."
"yes, Mama you do."
goes the goddamned weasel,
just in her
it was silent in my room and silent
when she slept
but i was only six and the world
made less sense
to my squinted eyes and
disoriented speech because
the night was her haven -
i was her haven -
she screamed and turned
enough to make the earth's
rotation seem slower
and hours get longer
and the tick drag
fucking tock seemed more
and more interminable
than the f
angelicusfrom the moment i first heard yourangelicus10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
voice, i knew you had to be divine
your lungs have claimed eternity
and your lips, they caught glory
in a gilded cage of songbird sin
every breath is a hallelujah,
every whisper a leap of faith
every clamour a constellation
the other night i dreamed of angels
and they all spoke with your timbre
they all waxed melisma in your wake
sometimes i wonder if your voice
is god's way of letting me in on
his best kept secret;
heaven isn't a home,
it's a harmony.
eighteeni don't really knoweighteen1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
much about heroes
but you were the Gatsby
to my Nick Carraway
because i know two things:
yours was a rotten crowd,
were worth m o r e than
the whole damn bunch
you can't have the world.i never meantyou can't have the world.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to make you
i only wanted
you not to
i am not what i am.don't tell me that ii am not what i am.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you arrogant boy,
i have dragged myself
out of hell,
and i did so with the smell of your sheets
still tangled around my throat.
i loved you desperately,
suddenly; and i realized it
when you took me to the lake
and told me
that your mom drank, too, and that
yeah, it hurts.
i loved you for the pain
you understood, and
i hated you for the agony you
i think you loved me most
when i was naked, and
you put your lips to my
ear, breath heavy and
your chest thundering,
and told me that you
so don't tell me
that i gave up,
because it was you
who told me that i'll never get anywhere
with my head in the
look at me now;
the scars on my skin and
are not, and will never be,
my lips are chapped and my
skin is torn but i
am whole, like the doll
my father once glued back together
i will be cherished again
will come ou
lattice bonesseafarer, you arelattice bones1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
vorticose & valeric;
you are an odyssey & i
am always sinking
i've found the gold
as love for summer fades.late morning-as love for summer fades.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.