Category

Greek & Roman Mythology

Showing 1-20 of 267 results
  • Poem
    By Peter O’Leary
    Blood-gushered mountainside a brass parapegma of noon
    glares behind: gore of hides. Beasts all slain. Shadeless midday. Specterless
    differentiation. Glad day zodiacs augur. Awl of insight; hunters'
    blades. Actaeon: and the spirits of motion. Actaeon
    uttering:...
  • Poem
    By Maggie Queeney
    laurel tree, limbs bent and twined into crown           heifer          bank of marsh reeds,
    handful lashed into pipes, …
  • Poem
    By Xiao Yue Shan
    there is no room left for disbelief, we have unsang
    the songs. have stripped stones of magic. we gave…
  • Poem
    By Corey Van Landingham
    was, according to Virgil, always a fickle, unstable thing. Woman. Wyf. Merger of wife and man. To indicate: not-girl. Not-yet-claimed, not-yet weeping. And aren’t they often weeping? The mother, tearing her hair out, running toward the battle lines, filling heaven...
  • Poem
    By H.D.
    He and I sought together,
    over the spattered table,
    rhymes and flowers,
    gifts for a name.

    He said, among others,
    I will bring
    (and the phrase was just and good,
    but not as good as mine,)
    "the narcissus that loves the rain."

    We strove for a name,
    while the light of...
  • Poem
    By H.D.
    Over and back,
    the long waves crawl
    and track the sand with foam;
    night darkens and the sea
    takes on that desperate tone
    of dark that wives put on
    when all their love is done.

    Over and back,
    the tangled thread falls slack,
    over and up and on;
    over and...
  • Poem
    By H.D.
    I know not what to do—
    My mind is reft.
    Is song's gift best?
    Is love's gift loveliest?
    I know not what to do,
    Now sleep has pressed
    Weight on your eyelids.

    Shall I break your rest,
    Devouring, eager?
    Is love's gift best?—
    Nay, song's the loveliest.
    Yet, were you lost,
    What...
  • Poem
    By Aria Aber
    Over Skype, I try to document my mother’s
    bald-shaved youth—she has a surplus in truths,
    and science has proven what it had to prove:
    every helicopter-screech I dreamed of was my mother’s first.
    Rippling my dumb hand, I wake up in childhood’s crypt,
    where prayer...
  • Poem
    By Shanta Lee
                                                                Hunger like her mama
                                                                Most strong in White gaze as in
                                                                a Cowbird’s flirtation
                                                                Sprouted in eyes to tongues
                                                                to bellies pregnant with stolen milk
                                                                to restless hands
                                                                These fingernails filled with Black body,
  • Poem
    By Ovid
    Translated By Ted Hughes
    Some are transformed just once
    And live their whole lives after in that shape.
    Others have a facility
    For changing themselves as they please.
  • Poem
    By Ruth Awad
    Days of rain. The drey outside my window would keel
    and the wind would plunder. My heart was valent
    with possibility: I could be anyone now, half woman,
    half asterism. Fragmental as a new year. Patron saint
    of the rutilant and cindering. I could...
  • Poem
    By Trish Salah
    i.
     
    Dog. The time you take home, the time you take away from home.
    The insistence, the instance worried at with your thick tongue.
     
    Stink. Because of what you found on the ground and put in your gut.
    Harry. As in beset, or beast....
  • Poem

    poetry-magazine

    Dolphin

    By Richie Hofmann
    A dolphin fell in love with me.
    Probably because of my looks—
    people always said, What a pretty boy you are.

    I was coming home from Gymnasium,
    I was so sweaty from running,
    we all were, we all ran into the sea,
    its freshness,
    we gargled the...
  • Poem
    By Ladan Osman
    Someone tells me the earth and everything in it
    will belong to me if I catch the horizon before sundown.
    I sprint, kicking up dust all the while.
    It seems I run with everyone in the world
    standing on my kidneys, eating my head.
    What’s...
  • Article
    By Tyler Malone
    Who are all these people? Where is this waste land they inhabit? What is this chaos of impressions we are privy to? Wherefore such madness?
    A man standing alone on a rain-drenched pavement on the River Thames Embankment, London.
  • Poem
    By Anne Carson
    I. GERYON

    Geryon was a monster everything about him was red
    Put his snoutsnout This image, suggestive of an animal such as a boar, may allude to Geryon’s father, Chrysaor (Khrysaor), sometimes depicted as a winged boar. Chrysaor is the brother of...
  • Poem
    By Anne Carson
    Somehow Geryon made it to adolescence.

                    ____

    Then he met Herakles and the kingdoms of his life all shifted down a few notches.
    They were two superior eels
    at the bottom of the tank and they recognized each other like italics.
    Geryon was going into...
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