Best Mythology Poems
Yet My Mind Holds Invincible Summer Hues
Bitter cold, ice ravages red-cliffs in my veins
Yet my mind holds invincible summer hues
O' Darkness thy black-hand my spirit restrains
Tho' thy power rages from thy dark Lord's pews
Flee thee far back into thy dark Lord's abode
Plead thy master, at Byrnhilda's rock for aid
Summer's warmth, my fiery embers sent explode
My Viking blood, proves I am iron made
With such power I banish thee with one breath
Tho' thy great wealth of evil is fierce and strong
Birthright, I draw residues from Odin's death
Epic strength and power from Valkyries's song
Bitter cold, ice ravages red-cliffs in my veins
Yet my mind holds invincible summer hues
O' Darkness thy black-hand my spirit restrains
Tho' thy power rages from thy dark Lord's pews
Carry thy dark master this warning I send
With shields of truth, and armored Nordic powers
And with soul's all, and all my strength I defend
Against stones thrown from Dark Lord's brimstone towers
When Valhalla's halls open for my passing
And Odin sits with mighty Thor at his side
Few will have entered in this pledge surpassing
Held firm, courage, loyalty and Viking pride
Bitter cold, ice ravages red-cliffs in my veins
Yet my mind holds invincible summer hues
O' Darkness thy black-hand my spirit restrains
Tho' thy power rages from thy dark Lord's pews
Robert J. Lindley, 8-19-2016
Syllables Per Line:
11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11
0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11 0 11 11 11 11
Total # Syllables: 308
Total # Words: 221
Note: I was bored this afternoon, decided to finish last 12 verses to this poem.
Begun as a tribute to my Viking heritage..
Hope you may enjoy it my friends..
Why are you so sad ?, Have you lost anything ??
If lost, then what ??? I think it is nothing.....
You stepped earth with your empty hand,
after death you will need only six feet land.
Then, calculate what you lost ?
And, what is it's cost ??
People earn only fame to grow their name.
They alive even after death.
Hence, try to win your faith.
Remember always, God means duty.
No other short cut path to almighty.
Then, what is duty ??
Work with no return desire is real duty,
which caps your success enhancing your beauty.
If duty is certified by your soul,
Easily, you can reach your goal.
Then, what is soul ???
The god within you is soul,
And, it plays a very vital role.
A purified soul can only fly to kingdom of God.
So, it changes body after body for cleaning all mud.
It follows a cycle of birth and death,
at the end, makes a pleasant stay
with God, the supreme truth.
I hate ego, but love service with devotion,
Devotion , that always invites perfection.
And ego !!!
Ego, a monster within you
that compel you to lag your race,
bringing tension and fostering darkness.
kill it, before it kills your goodness.
In devotion, a man sees God in everything
and everything within God,
He will never come to a bad end
who will see lotus in every mud.
Behind every shadow, there is a light,
And after every tear, a smile.
Don’t sleep like stone
Petting your life.
God is time,
the great destroyer of the world
and is called death.
Offering yourself to God
march ahead and ahead
up to your last breathe.
Always keep in mind,
You stepped earth with your empty hand,
After death you will need only six feet land.
I flew to Olympus, to find its heart,
armour intact against Hades’ dark wrath.
At birth the power of light made its start
as Homer's ghost sent me upon my path!
Yet there I found only an empty throne
where once Zeus in glory firmly reigned.
So sad! For no lighted wisdom was shown,
such that grievous and blue, my heart was pained!
Thunder and lightning I didn’t yearn to find,
nor divine favours for eternal youth.
I wanted reassurance, peace of mind,
justice for all and no distorted truth.
At the foot of Olympus I sought love
but no compassion came down from above.
---------------------------------------------------------
Robert Lindley & Paul Callus ~ 21st November 2015
Chosen Poem Of The Day, 3rd December, 2015
The Goddess Of Blessed Redemption
She gave me a foundation of love's pleasures
complete with wondrous bountiful measures
she a gentle goddess of golden hues,
swept this heart away, vanquished all its blues.
From a verdant forest spring she arrived
relieving me of life sadly contrived.
None other could love and give any more,
she a goddess sent from paradise shore.
When asked why she came to me to now bless
no words came, my sins too sad to confess.
Yet her Light and Grace healed this broken soul
for this world had taken its heavy toll.
Of Asclepius* blood, healing her art,
body, soul and mind, first target the heart,
faithful daughter, resplendent her warm glow
sent to heal and allow this soul to grow.
She freed my body from its scars and burns
from ghosts of past buried in hidden urns,
the mind confused by treachery and lies
and the soul ready to face its demise.
Her enchanted charm revived my delight
to view the world in a generous light,
for the mind to stand firm, no longer wilt,
with redemption free the burden of guilt.
Once a broken man, forsaken lost soul,
I now stand stoutly with a heart that’s whole.
With Apollo’s blood vibrant are my veins,
by lease of life, released from morbid chains.
Verve restored by Aceso’s healing might
with radiance to end my sorry plight.
Healed with love in atonement of past crimes
with kindness I share life’s eternal chimes.
Collaboration by Robert J. Lindley and Teppo Gren
7-05-2018
(1.) Asclepius*, see note above..
(2.) Aceso’s , ( Aceso (the goddess of the healing process )
(3.)Apollo- Greek Mythology -
Apollo was one of the most versatile of the Greek gods. His domains extended from poetry and music, to light and truth, and archery.
His mother was the Titan Leto, whose tryst with Zeus angered Hera. The Queen of the Gods tormented Leto, sending the monster Python to chase her across the whole world so she could find no safe space to bear her children. However, Leto found safe haven on the isle of Delos and gave birth to Artemis and then Apollo.
*****
Note- With deep gratitude I present this collaboration written with my good friend Teppo Gren. A wonderful friend and truly amazing poet. A sonnet master that awes me with every poem he posts..
A winged mermaid blossoms,
awash with marine snow ~
Poseidon's ocean-pearl,
breathing jasmine sirens
as iced eyelashes curl...
A winged mermaid blossoms,
when fish-angels ache for
arctic apricity,
and glacial nymphs carve a
cruel felicity...
A winged mermaid blossoms,
as strawberry conch shells,
drape the neon sea-star ~
my minty sun trembles,
and sheds its sherbet scar...
A winged mermaid blossoms,
hearts of manta rays swath
with love's ivory rose -
unfurling aqua kins,
that ruby thorns unfroze...
On summer hills I watched you
I know you watched me too
Every night you waited for me
Every night I came to you
From shallow oceans I have risen
On silver chariots traveled high
Crossed everlasting spaces
which filled your empty sky
Soothing manna showered your lips
from the radiance of my light
Crazy love I poured in your heart
on each lone and serene night
Humble shepherd boy Endymion
You haven't chosen death,nor life
In eternal sleep you've slumbered
and made of me your wife
You must have been a poet
with a will to live our dream
with a want to preserve passion
for the last abiding crescent
of the evanescent moon Selene.
Inspired by the Greek myth of Selene,goddess of the moon and Endymion
and by beautiful poetry.
Zephyrus, the god of the wind from the west
Gently blows where the lily grows
He is springtime's welcome guest
In early summer he whispers to the rose
As she sways in his warm caress
He gently blows where the lily grows
The winds of *Notus may give her stress
For he brings the summer storms
But she'll sway in Zephyrus's warm caress
The winds of *Boreas are never warm
He brings the cold winds of winter
While Notus brings the summer storms
Icicles on window sills begin to splinter
As the winds of Boreas make us shiver
He brings the cold winds of winter
His icy breath is upon the river
With gusts that never seem to rest
The winds of Boreas make us shiver
But Zephyrus is springtime's welcome guest
----
12/11/2014
''Z'' Contest, New Or Old - Poetry Contest
Constance La France
*Notus - The Greek god of the south wind
*Boreas - The Greek god of the North wind and the bringer of winter
----
Born from the neck of his beheaded mother,
as her blood soaked the ground,
he rose and soared from the gore,
a beautiful winged stallion
most wondrous and divine among all horses.
White – completely white -
his wings were that of an angel,
and this amazing creature,
by soaring to the heavens,
transcended the mundane
by setting free his mother’s tortured soul.
Through history he flew
with his name synonymous
with wisdom, strength and courage.
Creator of Mount Helicon’s four sacred springs,
from whence nine water nymphs
sprang forth to bless the world,
Pegasus unleashed with the stamping of his hooves
melodious beauty gushing forth from fountains
when his friends the muses sang
and poetry came flowing from the heavens down to earth.
Pegasus resides now in the heavens.
Listen when it thunders.
Could those be his stamping hooves you hear?
Poetry is flowing to this very day,
for Pegasus lives on forevermore
shining brightly in the starry skies.
April 27, 2017
Decades of mystic dreamers have worn the path
trod across the leys, coupling pairs within Stonehenge.
Beneath the Wiltshire skies cornflower blue; they lust,
lotus-eaters, loose-limbed, seeking a blessed outcome.
With longing strides-- they reach, climbing earthen berms
to add their lovers song to move with the cycles.
Some take the blessed day, others wait the pearly moon.
See her so fairy fair dressed in naught but moonlight?
Watch his black-haired beast rise once encircled by her arms.
Back pressed against the dolmens, her heels wreath his waist
as virgin blood runs red like the holly berries
to feed the holy earth, she'll bear his child; she trusts.
For my satire group, and for Will; a fairy tale
To a fanfare of horns
The young knight returned
With a tale of slain dragons to tell
The princesses blushed
And the old queen flushed
And the gay knights were happy as well
He had cast down his cross
From the height of his hoss
And left the thing there where it fell
For the great and the good
Were in need of the wood
To stoke up the fires of hell
He’d only been back for a moment before
He was begging a poke with a pardon
And a giggle, and “Push!”
From a quivering bush
Could be heard from the end of the garden
No need for a graven memorial stone
Or the ring of a funeral bell
The young knight was back
And well up for the crack
And all in the kingdom was well
© Gail Foster 2016
For This Is The Story, An Old Poet Sought Not To Miss
(Part One)
I've ate Eden's last apple, coveted Jason's* golden fleece
chained myself in caverns of darkness, begging no release
refused mighty crowns of power, fed myself painful feasts
crushed my beating heart, as if it were a ravenous beast.
I've tamed the lions of Serengeti, sailed around the Horn*
trekked unarmed, darkest jungles, where fiercest beasts are born
slain dragons with Sequoias, tossed Rock of Gibraltar*
walked in realms of Hades, spat upon its first altar.
I've outran Hermes*, sank my teeth deep into granite walls
sat beside Odin*, gave Thor's* first crown in Valhalla's* halls
wrestled mighty Minotaur*, its armored hide I ripped
stole the Nectar of the Gods*, laughed at them as I sipped.
I've shot Eurytus' bow*, killed Titans* with Heracles sword*
defeated dark Elf* armies, massacred Atilla's* first horde
swung Hammer of Hephaestus*, slept in Forest of Burzee*
trained Arminius army, taught them to show no mercy.
I've quenched Vesuvius fires, held lightning in my hand
flew bright skies over Asgard*, defended its precious homelands
swam with Undines*, feasted with beautiful Amphitrites*
fished with friend Ao Qin*, dragon king of the Southern Sea nights.
I've seen this world of fantasy, inked its splendor in words
sailed in its oceans of love and flown with magical birds
dreamed in its word-paradise and found true love's deepest kiss
for this is the story, an old poet sought not to miss.
Robert J. Lindley
Rhyme
original version written , March 9th, 1977
edited/updated today- August 9th , forty-one years later
Cain killed Abel on a Monday night
Abel didn’t get a chance to put up much of a fight
Cain said, “am I my brother’s keeper?” God said, “yeah,” but Cain said, “nah”
Adam just shook his head and rubbed his jaw
And Adam said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well Abel lived in it too
Orestes killed his mama on a Friday night,
‘Cause his mama killed his daddy, not the world’s best wife
Orestes pleaded his case that what he did was really good
The Fates said, “what the heck is wrong with this dude?”
But Athena said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," his mama lived in it too
Genghis Khan burned a village on a Wednesday night
The villagers begged him to put out that light
But Genghis was busy fighting and conquering the land
He had a vision for the world that they just couldn't understand
And his army said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," those people lived in it too
Jack the Ripper killed some women on a Saturday night
With a couple of slashes from his handy knife
The world got around through the city of London
But everyone said, “didn’t those women kinda, have it coming?”
And the people said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well those women lived in it too
Mark David Chapman killed John Lennon on a Sunday night
After reading the book Catcher in the Rye
He saw what was wrong with the world, too many phonies parading around
And someone oughta put 'em all into the ground
And the papers said,
"Good grief, my oh my
We’ve got a Tom o’ Bedlam, get a load of this guy
Well this is not ideal, but what ya gonna do?
It’s the world we’re living in," well John Lennon lived in it too
Crimson Rose
Against all odds, your destiny,
To live and grow, your history...
You grew and bloomed with all your might
With drops of rain and harsh sunlight
Through crack in earth you came to be.
Passed down from Greek mythology;
Adonis born from Myrrha's tree
In wild boars wounds from Ares fight
Against all odds.
Adonis' blood that flowed freely
Turned into roses magic'ly.
This sad tale of Adonis' plight
Engaged in death, now retains light
As you share love in purity
Against all odds.
8-2-18
2.
*In Greek mythology, roses originated from Adonis, deity of plants and rebirth. Adonis was born from a deceptive union between King Theias and his daughter Myrrha. When King Theias realized that his daughter had tricked him, he chased her with his sword. To protect Myrrha, Aphrodite transformed her into a tree.
King Theias shot the tree with an arrow, splitting it in half. It was from this tree that Adonis was born. Aphrodite took to Adonis and raised him like a son. As Adonis grew, he became an avid hunter. One day while he was hunting, Adonis came across Ares, one of Aphrodite’s past lovers, who was disguised as a wild boar. Ares attacked Adonis and when Aphrodite heard his screams, she ran into the forest and found him dying. The blood that ran from his wounds hit the ground and turned into roses.
In another version of the tale, red roses originated when Aphrodite was running to Adonis’ side, cut her feet on the thorns of the flowers, and stained them red.
The light is coming and I wish you well...
Behind the running, running man the land
Lies silent, fallow, haunted by the cry
Of one lone mourning rook who flies alone
Inscribing solemn circles in the sky
There is no time to take a backward look
Just running, running, running, running blind
He leaves the flowered garlands that she wove
With ribbons bright, with summer’s love, behind
He runs with only hope in empty hands
All faint of heart, with life blood running cold
The chill of winter earth beneath his feet
All water turned to ice in frozen fold
All out of breath with minutes yet to live
He runs, through elder grove and stand of yew
Runs, seeking for the ancient Solstice door
Described in tales the bards and ancients knew
‘Till suddenly he stumbles on a glade
All silent where no wild bird wheels or calls
And in the glade there stands a single stone
And on the ground a moon dark shadow falls
And there, within the shadow’s light he sees
That which before him other men have found
A stairway leading down in to the earth
A dark descending path in to the ground
No way but down now, this the only way
He gathers one last breath, and full of fear
Goes down the old and foot worn ancient steps
That lead towards the portal of the year
How dark the endless steps of winter’s stair
That shadow down, down to the Solstice door
To where, beneath the door a chink of light
Hints soft and bright across the cold stone floor
He sits upon the bottom step to rest
Reflect, and contemplate the year behind
And lo, she comes, bedecked in leaves and fruit
And dancing, dancing, through his weary mind
Forget me not, she sings; I am still here
I wait for you, for life to shift and stir
And through the keyhole and the chink there blows
A fragrant waft of birch and silver fir
Reviving, blessing, soft upon his face
The promise of new life upon her breath
Touched by her grace he weeps upon the step
For she has saved him with her love from death
Another year dies, another lives
He sits and waits; she watches from afar
And as he waits the light in darkness shifts
And creaks the ancient Solstice Door ajar…
by Gail
I would write a little poem
if I weren't a little gnome
Little gnomes have gnarled fingers
where no pen can ably linger
All my writing's done, you see
by my faithful secret'ry
For she's twice as large as I
nearly one foot one inch high
With dexterity so fine
she has written every line
that I've dictated so well
and I love the fragrant smell
of her perfume that I bought
'Tis a brand she long has sought
Far too costly it would be
on her meager salary
She's well paid in other ways
and so that is why she stays
You see, gnomes aren't very strong
but in bed we last quite long
Long enough for two or three
like my lovely secret'ry
And unlike a human male
my libido never fails
For long after man is done
I am still out having fun
But just like a man, 'tis true
even I must answer to
the main woman in my life
whom I deign to call my wife
And I dread the day when she
finds my secret'ry and me
in a passionate embrace
for of me they'll find no trace
And my elfin employee
will be just as dead as me
For my wife is fierce, you see
thanks to Irish ancestry
And she really is quite strong
being born a leprechaun
She is larger than both I
and my secret'ry combined
Two foot six of Celtic rage
she belongs inside a cage
But until that fateful day
I'll continue in my way
For 'tis really all I know
now it's off to bed I go