I’ll be honest, I’m feeling guilty,
Take for instance my darling friend Persephone,
So close to my heart:
Well, I can’t help being green-eyed,
Free as she is to dive and hide into the abyss
Anytime she fancies to, the gutsy girl!
See, I always leave the door of my bedroom ajar,
Just a tiny glimmer of light, as the dark spooks me
Despite my lust for waves,
And yet we are great pals, aren’t we,
We chat about his wanderings, my still life,
Funny indeed he left full of blast
Dying to get a kick out of battles and wild sea,
Funny indeed he left with a crew and twelve ships,
Yet came back alone, only to find his flat
Rife with scroungers, an obsessive wife, a dying dog -
And no, don’t get me started with his many gfs,
A lady of mature age who wolfed down the crumbs from his table,
A conjurer who saw men as they are and played along,
A naive young girl so sweet on him -
Was she head over heels in love with him?
O dear inconsistency, such is life -
I know, the warriors who struggle with the sea
Entice us women, how can we resist?
I for one find his sweet talk so charming
As to ask him for lunch twice a week -
Know what, once an ancient light tore my soul to shreds
So I can’t, I just can chase no sky,
Luckily my friend shelters me in his eyes,
If not his heart,
O dear inconsistency, such is life -
I’m a compliant castaway in a shaky truce
The silent hideaway where we hang out,
No waves for me, no shipwreck, no ‘coming home baby’,
Just the words the stars whisper to me sometimes,
Not that I understand them right -
Maybe their fault, maybe I’m tone-deaf -
But mark my words, one day I’ll get the guts
To blame the trees:
They act rude, particularly those twisted
From the very day of their birth -
Takes one to know one, right?
I know, my ambivalent knowledge
Can’t set my days straight, meantime
Draggy balloons are plodding through a steely sky -
Shame blizzards failed to blow in and rupture at last
Balloons, clouds and time.
Is it the air Persephone breathes
When free from the caves -
It is, the woman says -
Is it the ivy eating away the ancient walls -
It is, the woman sighs -
Is it the cussed shadow you can’t shoo away
No matter how hard you clean in the corners -
It is, the woman replies -
Is it the gnarly old lady who sits in the room,
Best friend to the cobwebs, both declining to go -
It is, the woman agrees -
No need to spring clean:
Leading you astray by moon or by seed
Doesn’t work for the sky, he’s hungry for more -
So don’t ask if he deserves your eyes,
It’s not a tryst, just the hunt she dreamt up
When eyeing white books -
Not death, but nearby lights in suburbia -
Oh yes? And since when you’re an expert on light,
Dazzles, mood swings?
You, a soul?
Ask Odysseus for tips,
He might oblige
If you say yes to his womb -
That’s what she hisses, no waste of words,
So keen on fraying fabrics or plots
She just drops the ivy and the air,
The cobwebs, the shadows, the ladies,
She even forgets all her aliases -
Depression when rushing to a cuppa or a drop.
Odysseus
Take for instance my darling friend Persephone,
So close to my heart:
Well, I can’t help being green-eyed,
Free as she is to dive and hide into the abyss
Anytime she fancies to, the gutsy girl!
See, I always leave the door of my bedroom ajar,
Just a tiny glimmer of light, as the dark spooks me
Despite my lust for waves,
And yet we are great pals, aren’t we,
We chat about his wanderings, my still life,
Funny indeed he left full of blast
Dying to get a kick out of battles and wild sea,
Funny indeed he left with a crew and twelve ships,
Yet came back alone, only to find his flat
Rife with scroungers, an obsessive wife, a dying dog -
And no, don’t get me started with his many gfs,
A lady of mature age who wolfed down the crumbs from his table,
A conjurer who saw men as they are and played along,
A naive young girl so sweet on him -
Was she head over heels in love with him?
O dear inconsistency, such is life -
I know, the warriors who struggle with the sea
Entice us women, how can we resist?
I for one find his sweet talk so charming
As to ask him for lunch twice a week -
Know what, once an ancient light tore my soul to shreds
So I can’t, I just can chase no sky,
Luckily my friend shelters me in his eyes,
If not his heart,
O dear inconsistency, such is life -
I’m a compliant castaway in a shaky truce
The silent hideaway where we hang out,
No waves for me, no shipwreck, no ‘coming home baby’,
Just the words the stars whisper to me sometimes,
Not that I understand them right -
Maybe their fault, maybe I’m tone-deaf -
But mark my words, one day I’ll get the guts
To blame the trees:
They act rude, particularly those twisted
From the very day of their birth -
Takes one to know one, right?
I know, my ambivalent knowledge
Can’t set my days straight, meantime
Draggy balloons are plodding through a steely sky -
Shame blizzards failed to blow in and rupture at last
Balloons, clouds and time.
Is it the air Persephone breathes
When free from the caves -
It is, the woman says -
Is it the ivy eating away the ancient walls -
It is, the woman sighs -
Is it the cussed shadow you can’t shoo away
No matter how hard you clean in the corners -
It is, the woman replies -
Is it the gnarly old lady who sits in the room,
Best friend to the cobwebs, both declining to go -
It is, the woman agrees -
No need to spring clean:
Leading you astray by moon or by seed
Doesn’t work for the sky, he’s hungry for more -
So don’t ask if he deserves your eyes,
It’s not a tryst, just the hunt she dreamt up
When eyeing white books -
Not death, but nearby lights in suburbia -
Oh yes? And since when you’re an expert on light,
Dazzles, mood swings?
You, a soul?
Ask Odysseus for tips,
He might oblige
If you say yes to his womb -
That’s what she hisses, no waste of words,
So keen on fraying fabrics or plots
She just drops the ivy and the air,
The cobwebs, the shadows, the ladies,
She even forgets all her aliases -
Depression when rushing to a cuppa or a drop.
Odysseus
Persephone (Kore "maiden," Despoina "Mistress") was originally a goddess of death; Odysseus prayed to her as "dread Persephone" who carried into effect the curses of men upon the souls of the dead. Over time, she took on the additional role of an innocent girl who was abducted by Hades the god of the underworld and had the attributes of both rebirth and death. She had granted intelligence only to the seer Teiresias, which he retained even after death. Kirke (Circe) sent Odysseus to Hades to consult with Teiresias at the Groves of Persephone. She sent him the spirits of many dead women, and he feared that she would send the head of the Gorgon to attack him.
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