Tag: poetry

What Lot’s Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn’t A Pillar of Salt)

eating-poetry:

Do you remember when we met
in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless,
and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing
you, when we were young, and blushed with youth
like bruised fruit. Did we care then
what our neighbors did
in the dark?

When our first daughter was born
on the River Jordan, when our second
cracked her pink head from my body
like a promise, did we worry
what our friends might be
doing with their tongues?

What new crevices they found
to lick love into or strange flesh
to push pleasure from, when we
called them Sodomites then,
all we meant by it
was neighbor.

When the angels told us to run
from the city, I went with you,
but even the angels knew
that women always look back.
Let me describe for you, Lot,
what your city looked like burning
since you never turned around to see it.

Sulfur ran its sticky fingers over the skin
of our countrymen. It smelled like burning hair
and rancid eggs. I watched as our friends pulled
chunks of brimstone from their faces. Is any form
of loving this indecent?

Cover your eyes tight,
husband, until you see stars, convince
yourself you are looking at Heaven.

Because any man weak enough to hide his eyes while his neighbors
are punished for the way they love deserves a vengeful god.

I would say these things to you now, Lot,
but an ocean has dried itself on my tongue.
So instead I will stand here, while my body blows itself
grain by grain back over the Land of Canaan.
I will stand here
and I will watch you
run.

By Karen Finneyfrock

Awareness says: Here is your child. Unfortunately this is a defective child.

Maybe, if you work with this kid hard enough, you will be able to have at least a tiny taste of the joys of parenthood. You will need a lot of money. I am sorry for you. Good luck, don’t expect too much.

Acceptance says: Here is your child! Congratulations!

Awareness says: This is the list of all of your child’s deficits. Good luck, I am so sorry.

Acceptance says: Here is a list of things your child might do differently. Since Autistic brains process things differently, the best approach is to listen to, and observe the child, making necessary accommodations for her to achieve full potential.

Awareness says: Your child cannot understand human feelings. Your non-verbal child will never say “I love you”

Acceptance says: Your child processes feelings in a way that might seem odd, but the feelings are real. The love received will come back, sometimes in a non-speaking way.

Awareness says: Correct those behaviors! Fix this mess!

Acceptance says: Behavior is communication. Understand and respect.

Awareness says: Don’t trust the adults who “have autism”. They are too “high-functioning” to understanding the heartbreaking struggles of “real” autism.

Acceptance says: Everyone struggles. Seek your community/your child’s community for input.

Awareness says: Those “low-functioning” people “with autism” cause too much pain. Burdens! Poor parents!

Acceptance says: Everybody has something to offer and do contribute when supported.

Awareness says: Beware of autism! It will cause havoc in our lives! All these people! How tragic!

Acceptance says: Diversity! Neurodiversity enriches our lives.

Awareness says: Donate to the awesome organizations that have all the pretty puzzle pieces and all the pretty blue lights!

Acceptance says: Support, include everyone!

See the difference?

Are you Aware of us, or are you striving to Accept us?

Because the two are almost opposite concepts.

Amy Sequenzia http://ollibean.com/2015/04/02/i-dont-want-your-awareness/ (via butterflyinthewell)

My love, how was I to know
that they would make a myth of us?
Did we not die? Are we not dead?
Are your bones not my bones?

Before the war.
Before we had to
kiss Troy out of each other’s
teeth, we were a paradise.
You were the only one I kneeled
before.
You made the warrior in me tired.

They write about your death.
How I sliced through countless
men trying to build a
monument to the monster
I was after your body
blazed before me.

I can tell you now that
I begged for the arrow.
Welcomed it.
My last wish was to
sleep beside you in our tent.
To hide you so well in the afterlife
that no God could take you
from me again.

My quiet love was yours from the
beginning.
I call my ankles by your name.
When mother dipped me in the river, she was introducing us.

Caitlyn Siehl, Achilles to Patroclus (via alonesomes)

Theirs is said to be a marriage of tragedy. They call him deformed, warped, a presence that insulted the heavens; while she was the epitome of beauty, of love.

The poets misspoke.

He is not ugly, though not handsome either, but those eyes. Hard on the world, yet tender on her. His form is something chiseled, stone, a reminder that art is not meant to be beautiful.

She abandons obvious passion for something more alluring. She abandons war in favor of fire.

He holds her gently, long fingers that can glide a breath away from her skin, rendering her paralyzed. He makes. He makes and creates beauty in his hands that doesn’t exist in his face. He makes her calm. He makes her quiet.

She bends to kiss his calloused hands and begs him. Show me your scars. Show me your ash. So he answers in return.

Show me your stars.
Show me your love.

L.H.Z // Maybe Aphrodite loved her husband (via lzeen)

lzeen:


How to be Immortal:

I. 

‘Learn to rip hearts’ Aphrodite murmurs. Artemis smiles. ‘And enjoy the taste of the blood on your hands.’ She runs her hands through dark tresses. ‘Enjoy the hunt and dance to their screams.

II. 

‘Know the constant war between chaos and order.’ Poseidon says, ‘the ebb to the shore and the hurricane to the sky.’ He dips his hand in the saltwater, watching his waves. ‘A war that can be tipped to either side by a single breath.’

III.

‘Master balance.’ Themis tugs at her weights, ‘The tips of the scales does govern.’ Athena sits beside her. ‘And your limitations will be only your mind. The cosmic laws will bend around you, enforcing them will be your task.’

IV.

‘Memorize the color red.’ Ares says, the sound of clanging metal not far behind. ‘The color of wine. The color of blood. The color of pain.’ Dionysus adds and glance at Hermes who dips his head in agreement. ‘For every path you journey, each step will seem like a century. It will be the color that greats you one border to the next.’

V.

‘Embody the lesson of stone’ Medusa hisses, ‘Unmoving. Enduring. Set.’ Her hair twists and tangles together, the scales with a mind of their own. ‘Know you will last as lesser things crumble. Dust between your fingers.’

VI.

‘Be at home in the dark.’ Nyx whispers. She leans her head on Hemera, ‘And appreciate the comfort of the dawn. Promises of tomorrow on her lips. You will steal them one by one for each time you see the sun set and the darkness take his place.’ Her dark eyes drift to the sky. “And you will learn the wrath of the stars.’

VII.

‘Understand that your memories will be your enemy.’ Mnemosyne tilts her head back, eyes closing. ‘Ghosts that will plague you, twisting and clawing until all that remains of you is the fights of your past and the demons.’

VIII.

‘Accept change.’ Psyche murmurs, her head dipped in the clouds, ‘You will have nothing and everything one second to the next.’ Persephone smiles before adding, ‘You will force revolutions and watch as the structures topple. Laugh at fate for the bounds you are born to will not be those you end up with.’

IX.

‘Take pleasure in your power.’ Zeus declares with Hera at his heels. ‘Take pleasure for you will be vilified for it.’ She says, ‘They will fancy themselves judge and jury of your character, but you are above them. Beneath you, they burn.’

X,

‘Realize the blurred line between sleep and death.’ Hypnos and Thanatos say, arms around each other, ‘and remember that you have crossed both.’ Atlas nods, shifting slightly under his burden, ‘You will bear the weight of time.’ He steals a glance to Hades. ‘And you will wish you could collapse beneath it.’

– L.H.Z // How to be Immortal