JuniperWoolf
07-20-2009, 01:45 AM
We had to write something about how ancient mythology was meaningful to us. I decided to use Artemis, Aphrodite and Hera to symbolize not three kinds of women, but three stages in many women's lives (the first being childhood, the second stanza after sexual maturation and the third marriage).
Feminine Triad (the title needs work)
We are wild, untamed Artemis.
Our skin carries the scent of sunflowers,
and warm dust.
Leaf-tangled locks tell of woodland adventures
and convey our distaste for young men's lust.
We are, as yet, untasted; unripe. Our fire
inchoate until our freedom is possessed
by that lecherous fiend, desire.
We ascend to sultry and salacious Aphrodite.
Women now learn that power resides
not in their fists
but in the warm velvet caress between their theighs.
An aptitude for bewithching seduction
enthrals the worship of a handsome provider;
but as passion stagnates and beauty withers
we lose lascivious lover to frenzied fighter.
Finally, we are hateful and histrionic Hera.
Fallen is he whose love was once sublime.
We lose ourselves
to jealousy, obsession with real or percieved crime.
We are hardened, enraged, obstreperous, crazed.
Lost is our youth, which none but us knows.
We are abandoned in the home, with regret,
to long for the days of long-forgotten parthenos.
I got an A-, which I think is fair.
Feminine Triad (the title needs work)
We are wild, untamed Artemis.
Our skin carries the scent of sunflowers,
and warm dust.
Leaf-tangled locks tell of woodland adventures
and convey our distaste for young men's lust.
We are, as yet, untasted; unripe. Our fire
inchoate until our freedom is possessed
by that lecherous fiend, desire.
We ascend to sultry and salacious Aphrodite.
Women now learn that power resides
not in their fists
but in the warm velvet caress between their theighs.
An aptitude for bewithching seduction
enthrals the worship of a handsome provider;
but as passion stagnates and beauty withers
we lose lascivious lover to frenzied fighter.
Finally, we are hateful and histrionic Hera.
Fallen is he whose love was once sublime.
We lose ourselves
to jealousy, obsession with real or percieved crime.
We are hardened, enraged, obstreperous, crazed.
Lost is our youth, which none but us knows.
We are abandoned in the home, with regret,
to long for the days of long-forgotten parthenos.
I got an A-, which I think is fair.