She is strange, beautiful, and terrifying;
she takes to the sky
and casts sorrow over the world,
a shade
that reminds me of finely picked cherries—
if you have never seen a cherry,
it is small and round,
a fruit that is yellow to deep blackish red.
I am yet to understand why she obsesses over
them so much.
Over the decades, men have scrambled to be near her,
to touch her silken blond hair
now almost non- existent,
and to laud her taffy-pink lips, now,
if something beckons
it is so attractive that one feels
he must be involved in it,
and so, they succumb to their deaths—
or so, I thought,
a small price to pay, she chuckles to herself.
“You know Poetess, it pains me to see you lament,
year after year,
their dark mane, and pensive brows,
goodness,
they are only men, after all.”
Medusa smiles,
observing me from the corner of her eye.
“That may be so, but wouldn’t you rather
have an army
serving you instead of laying them to waste?”
I choose my words carefully
and reach out
to pluck a cherry from the orchard.
For the first time, Medusa remains silent,
her smile though icy,
stays on her lips.
“Is there a reason as to why you suddenly
decided to see me today?”
“Just making sure you don’t kill any
more men, some of us
still need them to this day,”
I reply, amused by the
sudden shift
in her demeanor and pluck another cherry.
“Oh would you stop eating already!
By this rate there won’t be an orchard
left to tend to,”
Medusa spits fire and paces around.
Suddenly a handful of cherries drop to the ground,
the sky turns dark
and an ominous scream fills her lungs.
I gasp as they wither and leave a stain—
the shape resembling a broken rib.
Medusa shoots
a baleful glance in my direction.
I draw my sword and point it directly
between her eyes,
“now I know, why the cherries are so tart.”
Photo credits: Pinterest
This is the fourth installment of my Medusa series 🍒 Click on the links below to read more:
Untitled (treading along the grasses of reverie)
Treading along the grasses of reverie ~ Part 2
Treading along the grasses of reverie ~ Part 3
Posted for Greetings from Boston and an invitation to join us LIVE @dVerse Pub
22 Responses
WOW!!! What an ending!!!
Thank you so much, Lillian 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
A lucious tale, Sanaa. I love what you did with this poem. This line made me smile…
“That may be so, but wouldn’t you rather
have an army
serving you instead of laying them to waste?”
Thank you so much, Dwight 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I learned more about Medusa today than before. I wasn’t aware her gaze only turned men to stone. Nice that there is a female warrior willing to take her on! Beautiful image to go with your poem. I hope the warrior is able to tame her (or this aspect of herself.)
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
Would that some of our male warriors would do so much to defend their female couterparts!
Thank you so much, Judy 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄❤️
A fascinating take on Medusa! And an exciting, intriguing read. Would you please post links to your previous Medusa poems? I’d like to see them.
Thank you so much, Rosemary 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
(Yes, ofcourse! I’ll post them) 🥂
Many thanks. Much enjoyed!
You’re most welcome! 😘
I enjoyed your take on the Medusa myth, Sanaa; it reminds me of a book I read about her not so long ago, Stone Blind by Natalie Haynes, which gave her a back story that made her more sympathetic. Yes, she is strange, beautiful, and terrifying. I love the comparison with ‘finely picked cherries’, the dialogue between Medusa and the Poetess, and the sardonic ending.
Thank you so much, my dearest Kim 😍 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Interesting here that the Medusa’s terrible visage isn’t immediately apparent — she to too beautiful, terrible that way, snares men in their awe of beauty in some polar opposite to how the coiling snake-locks of the mythic woman freeze men with terror. But eros is bittersweet, isn’t it, and those plump ripe juicy cherries are infinitely sour. Works either way. The Poetess is aware of that consumptive power and engages Love from a verbal distance. Else she my find the Medusa in her own mirror, which would drastically reduce the supply of future eligible men/poems. My take anyway and bravo for attempting it. Your myth is in there.
Thank you so much, Brendan 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
A fascinating take on the Medusa story, Sanaa! So interesting that she is almost hairless, yet still alluring, instead of terrifying with snakes on her head. Either way, she’s slayed by the Poetess (I think). I like Brendan’s interpretation that it could be another version of herself.
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
This is a great take on an old story- well done!
Thank you so much, Kim 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Sanaa, the best Medusa poem I’ve ever seen!
Thank you so much, Nolcha 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️