Best Athene Poems
A poor little girl from Lydia
Earned her life stay with weave
She woved the most beautiful carpets
No money or gold she got
but some wool and some food
Arachene was a famous and sought after weaver
Everyone admired her work, she had a great talent
Goddess Athena heard about this little girl who was so skilled
Athena could also weave but not as amazing as Arachene
No one should be better than the Goddess Athene
she was angry and very jealous
Arachene was forced to take her own life .... suicide
Although the Goddess Athene was evil
she regretted slightly in the last second
She created little Arachene into a spider
Next time you see a spider
send some thoughts to the little girl from Lydia
Arachene spins beautiful spider web
in your and my garden
(Greek Mythology)
10.10.2013
A-L Andresen :)
There passed amid the crowded fair a lady
All clad in stately gown of em'rald green
With golden trim and diamonds all a-sparkle
It was, I say in truth, a comely scene
Her hair was walnut brown and deftly braided
Her eyes the bluest June I e'er ha' seen
Her face was white as ever summer daisy
As she walked amid the fair in em'rald green
I wended to the lady through the milling
And sought if I might carry of her gage
She chained me with ther fiery diamond necklace
And sought a worthy foe upon the stage
Her eyes passed o'er the sport with sharp disdaining
Said she, These roughened fellows all are mean
I seek a fitted match against my diamonds
To win a crown of honour for the green
At length, she spied the master of the quarter
The stoutest wight of Herefordshire, I ween
And though I had no hope against this venture
I'd do it for the woman clad in green
His quarterstaff was sure and fairly whistled
His arms were strong, as well his eyes were keen
Yet still I kept my feet upon the platform
And prayed them still remain for fair Athene
This lusty fight went on for half the hour
A goodly crowd collected for the see'n'
Then stepped the pretty damsel to the staff-ring
And saith, You fairly won the lass in green
What you are to me, must you ask?
Then let me say and say it well.
In the past, you once wore a mask,
a face of what I could not tell.
Then, like a god, you take to task
my proud conceit cloaked in a shell.
Today, intense and raven-haired
with wisdom fit for Pallas Athene,
you are the soul that always dared
to be the friend I've never seen,
the confidante with whom is shared
my hope of things that's never been.
Now, like the Atlas map and chart,
you're a compass to guide my paths
through hopelessness that filled my heart.
And so, life's trials and downdrafts
are less severe because you part
my sea of pain so I may laugh.
He was the son of Ernst, an immigrant gold engraver,
his devoted mother Anna was a gifted musician-
Austrian painter Gustav Klimt was but one of seven children,
all three talented sons were in constant competition.
In 1876 he attended Vienna School of Arts and Crafts,
an architectural painter he was training to be-
The Golden Order of Merit from the emperor he received,
and became an honorary member of Munich’s university.
Losing his father and his brother took a pitiful toll,
the tragedies affected his artistic vision and style-
But he met his companion Emilie Floge; life turned around,
and fathered fourteen children all the while.
Klimt took summer holidays with Emilie’s family,
off the shores of Attersee and painted landscapes there-
He became president of the Vienna Succession,
provided exhibitions for other starving artists who cared.
In 1894 he was commissioned to decorate the ceiling
in the famous University of Vienna’s Great Hall-
All three paintings were overly sexual and too disturbing,
so, they ended up being destroyed out of rage after all.
Klimt’s Golden Phase was positively successful,
many of his paintings from this period utilized gold leaf-
His first use of gold is traced back to Pallas Athene (1898),
taking small trips to Venice inspired his gold motif.
Most of his routine models were prostitutes,
posing in any way that would please his desire-
He was a highly erotic man who loved women,
but his dear Emilie was always his greatest fire.
He died in Vienna on February 6, 1918 from a stroke,
his paintings are some of the highest priced individually-
He lived a life of complicated freedom with pride,
yet placed a special importance on spirituality.
Klimt never painted a self-portrait of himself,
he thought there was nothing special about his silhouette-
If someone wanted to see who he really was,
he’d say, “look at my paintings and you won’t forget”.
Klimt Poetry Contest
December 13, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeCT69YlTvk
"Immaculate Lost"
Closed door.
A cell shared
in constant
heartache
counting days
on a cold wall
words counted
tears fill a well
there is the ocean
where sharks dwell
sharp teeth
and vicious minds
unforgiving
that do not weep
stone hearts
a voice cuts conscience
bleeds red a river deep
life lives somewhere
kept caged waiting
for the keys
Home
while the
Ravens and Crows
bleed reason lost
their comedy responds
in ignorant rhymes
deadly whispers
to a mind
kept locked
counting numbers
time and children lost
in nightmare's frost
beats in time to a
stale Metronome sailing
a recalcitrant planchette
sullen yet undefeated
wraith heart pounds
beneath the
frozen surface
in the depths of
black banshee shadow
beneath eyes
that reign through
windows of pain
while kneeling
before Pallas
Athene
still meets you
in her dreams
Immaculate Lost
Nevermore
Again
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JeCT69YlTvk
J.M. "The White Blind Light"
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Lac_(poem)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Raven
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48860/the-raven
https://owlcation.com/humanities/pallasathene
The depth of darkest night houses my out spread wings.
Ruffled feathers about my neck are fluttering.
No villain can come within the range of my eye.
No bat or hare can flee far enough once I spy.
With a screech instilling fear, downward do I plunge,
after running prey both too old and, oh so young…
or with stealth and deadly silence will I ascend
to bring a scavengers end to the rodent kings.
Yet, will I lead you on to glory?
Or claim to tell a different story?
Ah yes, I may..as I am wise.
Leave this life, release your ties!
Athene awaits my return,
Fly with me, see, learn!
Athene has deceived me
She’s made me wait
in the soothing springs
The swordfish with fins
pierced my throat
The blood choked me
I fell In the dust
My clothes cluttered
about me
And darkness covered
my eyes
(c) mbsaaka/2024