😴
whaddya think of my poem
Sort:
Nov 5, 2023
0
#9
I liked it. That's so nice and I know lriver Lethe. There's even a song written about the river Lethe.
Ode to my eyes
I write an ode
to my eyes
because, first, I have to,
but also because
without them
I would not be able to see
the various beauties of the world.
I would not be able to see
the knife on my shelf,
so dull and rusted
it looks like the ancient Mayans could’ve used it.
Nor could I see
the door
ready to stand against a hurricane
but really
I know it is
as flimsy
as paper.
nor could I see
the looks
on their faces
as I burst into their home
like a messiah ready to release them
from the tortured existence
they live.
Nor could I see
the blood
coating my hands
thick as maple syrup.
I taste it.
It’s sweet.
I write an ode
to my mouth
because, first, I have to,
but also because
without it
I would not be able to taste
the blood
coating my hands.
I look at it
and it’s as thick
as maple syrup.
Nor could I taste
the sampling of soup
my friend
the cook
shares with me
using the unspecified meat
I gave to him
for use
in his soup
in his restaurant.
Nor could I taste
the faint
taste of chicken
on the smoke
along with the smell
wafting from
the pile
I’m burning.
I write an ode
to my nose
because, first, I have to,
but also because
without it,
I would not be able to smell
the faint
scent of chicken
on the smoke
of the pile,
I'm burning.
Nor could I smell the earth
as,
like a dog
hiding a bone,
I bury my score.
Nor could I smell
the blood on my clothes,
crumbling away
And hitting the floor
with a sound
not unlike that
of cherry blossoms hitting the water
in spring.
I write an ode
to my ears
because, first, I have to,
but also because
without them,
I would not be able to hear
the blood on my clothes
hitting the floor
with a sound not unlike
that of cherry blossoms hitting the water
in spring.
Nor could I hear the sirens
of the champions
of the ones I took
announcing my fate.
Nor could I hear the footsteps
above my head,
as I feel the sweat drip down my skin,
Making the floorboards creak
With every step.
I write an ode
To my skin
because, first, I have to,
but also because
I would not be able to feel the sweat drip down
as floorboards creaked above my head.
Nor would I feel
the rough hands,
grab me.
The handcuffs,
restrain me.
The belt,
secure me.
And as I write
this ode,
I know that soon,
my skin will let me feel
the prick of a needle,
Stop Me.
Why are you all, writing gigantic poems?
I'm still in 5th grade!
Last night i asked ChatGPT to give me a topic from Greek mythology to write about, so I stayed up until 11:00 P.M. writing this 🥲
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orpheus_and_Eurydice
Laughing gayly, merrily frolicking through that plain
Prancing like a deer, the one who grins in the rain
Is Eurydice, that nymph, who resided in the vales
Yet too joyous to recognize that underfoot were those scales
Her lover, her betrothed, is the son of euphony and light
He goes around Greece, playing that lyre day and night
When at last the happiest day of his life comes,
Is Hymenaios the only one who predicts correctly out of all outcomes?
Her last breath is her airy laughter, yet it too sinks to the ground
Ah, hate to you, cursèd serpent! Now she too is Hades-bound!
When her once-vivid eyes and sweet lips are closed, she then can rest
Hymenaios, oh Hymenaios! Was our undying love not blessed?
He goes around Greece, strumming that lyre day and night
Mourning his maid, he sings laments of the one fatal bite
That took everything from Orpheus, and the gods do pity him
“Show me where she lies in a sea of wealth, I’ll search it all to the brim.”
Confiding in the protection of Zeus, he marches to death’s gates
Serenading Cerberus, charming all those poor, pitiful fates
Passing cautiously around the Lethe, straight ahead of the pomegranate tree
To Hades and his queen of bittersweet warmth, he presents his plea with slight brevity:
He plays a tune in a minor key, with not an ounce of bliss to be found
“Oh sir, Eurydice is unjustly trapped here, please let her out past your hound.”
But the words he sung, the melody he plucked, cut clean through Hades’ heart
Both he and Persephone had determined a way to give the couple a fresh new start
Hades allowed him to live his life once more with his wife on the surface
Orpheus was ready; or was he? He was calm yet at the same time nervous
He set off, eager to depart with a queen of his very own, when just then
Hades called out, “If you dare face her behind you, she will return to my land again.”
Surely no easier task has been prescribed to the hero so brave!
Yet over time he doubted all of it, and soon in he gave
If his beloved bride was truly behind him, why could he not hear her tread?
Turning to see the spirit of Eurydice, just let him be dead, let them be wed!
A small gasp escapes from Eurydice’s withered, dry lips
She’s dragged back at the speed of light, he can’t even reach her fingertips
All the while Orpheus finds himself back in a blinding, wrong realm.
It’s like a sensory overload, he just wants to cry, he’s too overwhelmed.
He stumbles around Greece, lyre in hand, reminiscing those splendid days
Will he ever recover? Most likely not. After all, he’s still in a daze.
The only fear he has now is that his life continues to go on
Praying that one day they can reunite, that a new era of their love will dawn
His hopeless requiems make crocodiles shed tears of despair
But wait a moment– a band of roused Maenads accost him from somewhere
Oh my, oh foolish, petty grapevine girls, please cut it out now!
Him not playing with you is no reason to destroy him anyhow.
Oh, you deliriously frantic fools!
Thanks to you, the whole world is full of nasty cesspools.
The audacity you must have to dismember Apollo’s heir
Is surely greater than the amount you would ever care.
When you finish, throw his head and lyre in the Hebros River
Whispers of hymns from his dead lips are haunting enough to make one shiver
Alas, Orpheus! His death shall bring him eternal peace.
While the rivers carry his timeless ballads and pass them all throughout Greece.
MORE CONTEXT:
-Hymenaios was the Greek god of marital contracts and blessed marriages. There is a version of this story where it's said that he predicted the marriage wouldn't last.
-For those who don't know, Cerberus is the three-headed watchdog of the underworld.
-The river Lethe is a river in the underworld which makes the dead forget the memories of their lives.
-Persephone is Hade's wife
-The Maenads are female followers of Dionysus (god of wine and revelry) who are usually in a frenzy or rage. They were the girls who tore Orpheus apart.
-The Hebros River is, according to some source I read, where Orpheus' head and lyre were thrown.
Sorry for such a long post : P