Long Artemis Poems
Long Artemis Poems. Below are the most popular long Artemis by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Artemis poems by poem length and keyword.
Callisto, the chaste, was Artemis’ ardent acolyte,
Daugher of Lycaon, was most beauteous and fair.
Zeus, besotted, imposed his Divine Right,
In Artemis' guise he seduced Calisto without care.
Daughter of Lycaon, was most beauteous and fair.
Artemis, furious of her disciple's break of vow,
(In Artemis' guise he seduced Calisto without care)
Turned her Ursine, said that was enow.
Artemis, furious of her disciple's break of vow,
The hapless young lass was left on her sad fate to bemoan,
Turned her Ursine, said that was enow
But Juno, most jealous, wouldn’t leave her alone.
The hapless young lass was left on her sad fate to bemoan,
Zeus taking pity Callisto did shield.
Juno, most jealous, wouldn’t leave her alone,
By Artemis arrow she wanted her felled on the field.
Zeus taking pity Callisto did shield,
Foiled Juno's schemes by clever ruse,
(By Artemis' arrow she wanted her felled on the field).
Ursa Major and Minor were formed for mariners’ use!
Foiled Juno's schemes by clever ruse,
The Northern skies adorn them yet,
Ursa Major and Minor formed for mariners’ use,
For eons now, below horizon they never set.
The Northern skies adorn them yet,
Zeus, besotted, imposed his Divine Right,
For eons now, below horizon they never set,
Callisto, the chaste, was Artemis’ ardent acolyte.
A Rhyming Pantoum of Five Stanzas Poetry Contest sponsored by L Milton Hankins
Date written: 09 May 2022
Foundation.
If your higher self had a voice, what would it say?
Something like below, I hope.
Salute.
Title:
Be a Warrior.
Mirroring from the Abyss.
(A lone voice whispers)
My name doesn't matter,
My narrative you may try your hardest to shatter
You may smirk at my goals and dreams
You may try to erase them with cruelly whispered jibes
But I have an alibi
I'm a warrior just fiercely striding forth
Conquering fear and doubts daily
I wonder upon criticism's invisible shores and still overcome so much more
I am an immortal composed of sinews saturated with the ever glowing bright stars
Look at me
You green eyed beauties
Watch me rise above your worthless words and cries
Watch me soar as I pursue dreams and yours just linger confused and die
For I'm Artemis or Hercules rolled into one
I'm my moon and everlasting sun
The winds just silently whisper my name
The stars shine
Guiding my ways as I run
I'm just me
I always rise whatever the crowd says
And it's that sweet thought I'll continue
Until the end of my days
For I'm a Warrior
Just sent by my God
To help guide others
As I find my way
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
The tricky question of how many animal farms we have
May be more complicated than most of us think;
There are at least some fifty-five animal farms in the world
Where wild mammals play and eat and drink.
And although there lightning is feared more than law,
These farms all seem to have the selfsame collective code.
Since different from the mainstream law, we may call it lore:
The silent cipher that governs the primitive farms.
There everyone is entitled to their share of breath
As long as they breathe within their native home,
Breathing within the territories of other beasts
Wins you mob lynching according to the animal tome.
No animal may acquire such vast knowledge
As to threaten the rule of the Elephant and the Lion.
The acquisition of illegal learning only leads
To the doom Artemis wreaked on the restless Orion.
There you must not shout of forbidden things
Such as animal rights and equality of beasts oppressed;
For it is clearly stated by the immutable silent code
That some mandrills are more equal than the rest.
A beast of worth begets offspring of the same worth;
If a beast be an outcast born, the same must a pariah remain.
No animal may rise from the bottom to the aristocratic realm:
No beast must such thoughts of improvement entertain.
The lore of the mandrills is not lean,
As said, these codes make a huge-volume tome
Which you can’t leaf through in a day,
Though you may get a copy and read at home.
Yet the problem is that censorship there is tough
And as such the lore has never been put in print;
The few Cheetahs who championed for a free press
Were one by one snuffed without a hint.
Artemis hunts again.
Goddess of the wild, of childbirth, and children.
A nurturing visitant accompanied by her nymphs.
She hurtles through the void of space to pirouette the Moon.
Wise with earthly virtue, she becomes a chariot for the stars.
Artemis hunts again.
We join together to watch her mission.
We forget our differences. Is this a momentary solidarity?
She teaches her lessons of kindness and compassion.
What have we learned? Are we listening?
Artemis hunts again.
Rockets explode into the pitch-black vacuum,
floating away from orb Earth, a crystal ball out the window.
Swinging into the deep shadow behind pallid ghost Moon.
Swinging round and careening back to Mother Earth.
What kind of adrenaline rush must this be?
Artemis hunts again.
Protector of wild animals and children.
May she protect the astronauts she now carries.
In this vile season of cruelty, we need her more than ever.
Men of power use their station to ravish the tender.
May she protect young girls from rape and abuse.
May she turn all the abusers into stags or bears.
Artemis hunts again.
Her descent back to spheroid Earth brings her home.
Some will worship her in cults of forests, lakes, and springs.
Others believe her to be the goddess of the Moon.
Fragrant nature will welcome her with fecundity,
while the world of humble humans
celebrates her return.
I await the soft breeze to bring ease
or a whispering voice of reason
I cry crimson chronicles
and journal extensively,
adopted articles of admonition
I thought I could bargain with
Refraining from the I told you so’s
I’ve deduced it to common errors
I sustained, but a burning bush is just that,
burned with fire until ash
Deceived were those
by the empty heads
delivering false hope
they’ve chosen sinking ships
and turned their cheek
It’s a circus out there
step by step,
it was in the shadows
and in dreams, there,
for everyone with any sense at all
long before it came into shape,
I wrote of it all
during the ill-advised
unperceived puppeteers
motioning their marionettes
predictions becoming real life,
one could not have imagined
the destruction in place
It’s a circus out there,
we’re on its merry-go-round
I’m not proud of it
I laughed at first,
with a desire to blame
It’s just not me,
I no longer am the same~
I paint Buddha heads
and write prose instead
It’s what keeps a balance
when the world's scales seem off
as for the zephyr,
only time will tell
Here is my message;
get to the real nitty-gritty
b’fore you make
wrong decisions again
It’s a circus out there
3/10/26 5:07 pm
A perfect landing
in the Coast of San Diego
Congratulations Artemis II
Oldest tree,
where Black River old-growth weathers
wetland over millennia.
Your ancient sinker roots
in dank swamp muck.
Primordial conifer,
Are you the sacred tree of Artemis,
or part of Aristotle’s potential actualizing?
What epic epoch do you realize?
What timeworn bones in your woodland knobby knees?
Your primeval bark peels the pages.
Your hoary trunk holds the saga in wooden tissues
of flood and drought, fire and freeze.
Patient and resolute, growing, undergoing,
unrelenting in the passage of episodes.
The endless patterns of wild came and died.
You watched liars lie and cheaters cheat.
You watched men in war and peace like brief mosquitoes.
What human acquaintance impressed you?
Was it Native Americans you first encountered?
Your bare boughs advance aloft in steady penetration,
a secret sapience silently submitted.
We, the fleeting fevered furious might grasp
your stable constant lessons of careful exhibition.
You reach ever and ever for larger continuance,
pending purpose for your conscientious growth.
Life’s intention is your sufficiency.
Flourishing in your adapting seasons.
Yes, we too can reach and rise in rapture.
She came in silence where the cedars sway,
A lunar hush beneath the argent trees.
The serpentine wind curled words she wouldn't say—
Just breaths and bow and coolness on the breeze.
Her sisters moved like stars in cascade flight,
The Hunters, free of longing, fierce and far.
Their eyes held depths no lover dared to write,
Each step a hymn beneath a myriad star.
A nebula of dreams unfurled inside,
As if I’d slept too long beneath a name.
She left a lilt, like wildness in the tide,
And something warm that had no need for flame.
No plea shall slither near and stay—
For she lives in me, the break from day.
With Athena's wise courage
and the fierce confidence of Artemis'
The lily pond smiles back at Esmeralda
hypnotizing waterlilies-
beauty so cleansed
the water can't mimic her movements.
The enchanting dark haunts the lively garden-
hidden within a forest,
behind a cottage of green
The wings of an angel mirror the auburn hair,
the array of hydrangeas
mermaid-like white-
flowing violently over the fuzzy water,
effect the loss of gravity.
She floats.
Sits. Waiting-
for the answer to all of her questions,
to know right from wrong,
even though her answer lies in front-
within the gleaming light
that presents itself so delicately on the surface
but hides in a world
far from reality.
Within a book, with twists and plots that never end
and where the fantasy unfolds
only sharing clips from chapters.
The serenity
still,
as though there are no clocks,
no ticking
only moments
creating miracles.
Sarah Casey-Reflection
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Word Maneuvers in F Sharp Minor
As it goes, so it goes.
Imperceptibly.
As the languorous lizard soaks in the sun,
It’s fat green belly filled with flies,
You and I will do the same, indeed,
We will find utter solace under a moving cloud,
We will wish for an escape from the piercing onslaught,
We will wish for an end to the pain and abject sadness,
Of daily life on this staggering planet;
But instead, as carnivorous time eats its way forward,
We too will be absorbed into the Beast,
Into which all are eventually swallowed whole,
We will be digested by the darkness.
As it goes, so it goes,
Imperceptibly.
As the languorous lizard soaks in the sun,
You and I will do the same.
We will spend our lives hunting,
And being hunted,
By the masticating microbes of infinite space;
We will all be an ingredient, at last,
In something else’s soup.
And what is our end, honey?
What factors are there in our ultimate demise?
Here, take my hand and let me hold it.
We will soon enter into the room of pillows.
It’s down the dark meandering hallway,
Past the statue of a kneeling Artemis,
Inside, you will find fiery explosions;
That of instant death upon the battlements.
We will be vacant from the universe,
For a second….
As the blooming centrix flower bends,
And waits for pulsing Time to ejaculate,
We will watch its wondrous presentations,
We will lie askew, and count our moles
With trembling erect appendages.
As it goes, so it goes,
Imperceptibly.