Louise Glück, excerpt from “A Myth of Innocence,” in Averno
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Rita Dove, from Gods & Mortals: Modern Poems on Classics; "Demeter's Prayer to Hades,"
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One of my favourite poems by her
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sources:
1. The Inferno, Canto 24, Gustave Dore 2. Nathaniel Orion G.K. 3. Supervert, Necrophilia Variations 4. Cassandra Clare, Dark Artifices 5. Death and the Maiden, Takato Yamamoto 6. William Shakespeare, As You Like It 7. @thatantisocialbitch 8. The Silent Voice (1989), Alfred Lord 9. author unknown 10. (the playwrights will write your names in the darkness of the sky) 11. Émile Jean Horace Vernet, The Angel of Death (1852) 12. A Midsummer Night's Dream (1937) 13. Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace 14. Eliza Crewe, Crushed 15. Yoshitaka Amano, The Endless Desire 16. Maram Rimawi 17. Farouq Jwaideh 18. Mary Shelley, Mathilda 19. Włodzimierz Błocki, Kiss of Death (1902) 20. Psalm 139:8 21. Jason Chan, Fall 22. Asmita Sengupta 23. Frederick Seidel, The Last Poem in the Book 23. Hans Christian Andersen, The Little Mermaid 24. Anne Bachelier 25. Konstantin Makovsky, Demon and Tamara
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"I wish I was pretty, like a budding flower or the dusky sky before a storm. A sweet, beautiful innocence, destined to be more.."
-Excerpts From A Book I Never Wrote, Hades
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Eurydice's Tale is a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, from Eurydice's perspective. Eurydice stops Orpheus on his way to the River Lethe and asks him to hear her side of the story instead of abandoning his memories. With nods to the original mythology and a fresh perspective on love and grief, Eurydice's Tale is my favorite of all of my previous chapbooks.
The remastered version is downloadable and available in my Ko-fi shop here!
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Epistolary, or, What Doesn't Kill You Lasts Longer
Hades comes to me.
He's been a little less busy, lately.
Wings barely tucked in because
he knows I like to see them on him,
he perches next to me.
He is smiling. It's disconcerting. Now,
I know you favour the unfashionable,
but that took things a smidge far,
don't you think?
I shrug. ‘Call me Clarissa.’
Oh, no. No. I’m here to recast you
as Lovelace. ‘So now I’m the villain?’
He lightly lifts my chin. I beg
to differ there. What might you
not do in the rake’s shoes?
His fingers drift away to light
a cigarette. High time you roved
a little. It’s an art. You're a charmer.
What's the harm? Don’t go giving
your whole heart away again.
‘Do you even have a heart?’
He blows slow rings. I admit
I’m not easily moved. Love then.
Crave until you can't form words.
Surrender and accept nothing less
than surrender in return. Fleeting,
meaning everything and nothing,
it all defines life, my darling.
You're not dying at the moment.
Go out and live a little. He shakes
wide his wings, rises, and lightly
kisses my lips. Smoke. You know
where to find me. Don't
send me any letters. Just breathe,
you fragile, human thing. Breathe.
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I loved him (I think).
Shameless.
Laid before him,
stupid lamb
in a
slaughterhouse.
— Karese Burrows, from “Persephone Writes a Poem,” This Is How We Lost Each Other
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