They are a rose-colored symphony,
these cherry blossoms,
they embrace the wind in dead hours of the day
and converse with clouds,
as though exchanging chronicles
to and fro– one can easily state that
there is a passage regarding my muted gold past
somewhere inside the petals.
I was mortal and strangely so, born
to the primordial gods,
there wasn’t an inch of land or sky that didn’t
recognize me,
I had the unrelenting need to cup beautiful
chaos of chaste stars in my palms,
and amble aimlessly in wheat fields after sundown.
I was told to be beautiful,
bottle blond wavy hair styled loose, in front
of shoulders, they were a bit longer
than I’d have liked, but it was in vogue back then,
are you listening, Poetess?
I glance up and smile innocently, “Yes I am, go on.”
Medusa gave me an icy look and continued with her
story, I needed to keep her occupied
so that Pan, god of nature, could finish collecting
samples from the great black ocean,
one, which was rumored to be the elixir of youth.
I wasn’t keen on growing old anytime soon.
She opened her mouth to speak and for a
moment I forgot as to why I was there
in the first place,
for what followed, could only have been described
in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, I was mesmerized.
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be
different, Poetess?
Eyes as opium, I was born on the wrong side
of the algorithm,
with robes that were made purely of green chiton,
unlike my sisters.
I loved the sea, unfortunately which is what led
me to my misfortune.”
‘Does it bother you, knowing that Poseidon
wasn’t condemned by Athena?
To my surprise, Medusa chuckles and helps
herself to a few autumn olives.
“Don’t be so naïve, Poetess! Do you truly believe
me to be incompetent?
Why do you think I altered the ocean’s capability
to revert a human back to youth?”
And just like that, I am jolted back to my senses,
the ocean … what! So, was all this for nothing?
Medusa glares and spits fire, for at that moment
my tongue betrays and slightly
Mongolian features give away the plot;
I hold on to double-edged sword and prepare for
battle, some things never change.
Photo credits: Rural path leading to severe misty mountain, Pexels.
Posted for Two Opportunities to join us LIVE @dVerse Poets Pub
24 Responses
“Eyes as opium, I was born on the wrong side
of the algorithm,
with robes that were made purely of green chiton,
unlike my sisters.
I loved the sea, unfortunately which is what led
me to my misfortune.”
Love the rhyme in this!
Thank you so much, Melissa 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I LOVE this prequel to the Medusa we all know! I saved you till the last to read because I knew you were doing this 🙂 AND thank you for stepping up to read my poem as well!
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, Lillian 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I enjoyed hearing youread this today Sanaa
much🖤love
Thank you so much, Gillena 😀 so good to see you 💄❤️
Much love back 🥂
I loved hearing you read this today, Sanaa! So much fun, this conversation they’re having. 😊
Thank you so much, Merril 😀 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
I loved the storytelling, the images juxtaposed with forces of nature, loved this part especially “there is a passage regarding my muted gold past
somewhere inside leaf and sepal. “
Thank you so much, Oloriel 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
Wonderful storytelling, a poem to read over and over.
❤️❤️❤️
So glad to have heard you read both Medusa and the prequel Sanaa – outstanding! A poetess who chats with the Gods – we should have to pay to talk to you lol
Hahahaha you are too kind! Thank you so much, Andrew 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
An intriguing and compelling tale you tell here, Sanaa 🙂 I especially love the 5th stanza.
Thank you so much, Sunra 😀 so glad the poem and its imagery appealed to you 💄❤️
A splendid poem, Sanaa. Your story telling is fantastic.
Thank you so much, dear Dwight 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
I like the play on “chiton,” the ancient Greek garment, and “chitin,” the material of which insect exoskeleton/skins are made. Never thought before about what Medusa wore, but now I know.
Thank you so much, Priscilla 😀 so glad the poem resonated with you 💄❤️
I love that you reminded me I the opening lines of your poem of the ‘rose-colored symphony’ of cherry blossoms, Sanaa, and how ‘they embrace the wind in dead hours of the day / and converse with clouds’. I also love ‘the unrelenting need to cup beautiful / chaos of chaste stars in my palms,
and amble aimlessly in wheat fields after sundown’, and the story of Medusa and Pan. You’re quite right, some things never change.
Awww gosh! Thank you so much, my dearest Kim 😍 so glad you enjoyed it 💄❤️
Delicious irony!
Thank you so much, Rosemary 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️