Long Hades Poems
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Splotches of black ink stain my diary and hands
most of them much larger than tiny grains of sand
splatters caused when he slammed down my well
hoping to end the love of poetry I never shall quell.
Fool is he for believing his childish tantrum and rant
would keep me from retrieving my pen, for it shan't.
He delivered his message with vicious brutal force
now I shall have a turn to take a retaliating course.
He underestimated my courage and now I seek
to pen my poems choosing adjectives less weak.
My writings shall not be contained in diary alone
Publicly I intend my poems to be read and shown.
He wasted my ink and inflamed my strong-willed desire
To rebel against the monster with thorns sharp as briar.
Well! I have a hundred pens and more ink to fill the well.
If I believed in Hades, I'd write him into the fires of hell.
MICHAEL – Archangel who is as God
YERACHMIEL – Archangel who rules earth
AZRAEL - Angel of Destruction and Renewal
NAARIRIEL – The Great prince Angel of the seventh heaven
GABRIEL - Archangel whose name means hero of God
EREMIEL – Angel who presides over the Abyss and Hades.
LAHABIEL – Angel who protects against evil spirits.
OURIEL – Archangel who commands demons
FALLEN ANGEL-- Lucifer, known as Satan, banished to hell for all eternity
LAILAH – Angel who oversees and protects childbirth
OPHANIEL – Angel of the moon and stars, “Wheel of Light”
VRETIEL – Angel swift in wisdom, responsible for recording God’s deeds
EMMANUEL – Angel whose name means “God with us.”
~12/11/21
~Contest: Theme: "A" (Angel)
~Form: Acrostic
~Sponsor: Constance La France.
Has someone cursed our love
or cast a malevolent spell?
Why do the heavens envy our love
and wish us unwell?
The union of our two worlds--
My realm of the angels
where celestial lights light
our eternal pathway,
and yours down in the antipodes
where the deep darkness reigns
isolating the most austere isolation,
the abode of the dreaded Hades.
My cruel maiden
save me from this pain,
my mournful heart is pining.
This smothering loneliness
is driving me swooning insane.
Since you’ve been gone
I dwell forlorn
in a realm of perpetual darkness,
bereft of your love
this pain is least to abate.
Wake up my love, my stilled heart,
Oh, do come back
and enliven this woebegone soul
lest I breathe my last
even as I grow weary of the wait.
~Wake Up My Heart contest by Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
The animal of the night has an evil courage as its defense,
And with simple lies it now catches the filthy beast easily,
And can now stand and bask in God’s purest of sunshine,
Whilst valor and glory speak all power to one’s destiny!
Darkness doth now pervade and drinks slowly from that
“Chalice of the Faithless Heathen” who hides among the
Soulless Ones who are consumed by their hateful actions,
And spit thoughtlessly at your good will and human pride!
Hades’ very own dark demons tilt their evil night shades
While justifying the hurt and depravity of an “Ugly Brute”;
A truly lost soul without any mercy, blind—as “He” throws
Freely a nasty spiteful spirit on your earthly fire of reality!
Hence, Hades’ mark and mask of utter darkness and terror
Descend now into the very conscience of your Spirit World;
Burning hot with the force of “The Furies” seeking revenge:
Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto all appear sans Merci now!
As their eternal gorgonesque spirits creep upon you furtively,
Your once handsome visage turns into a sad and horrid portrait
Of an old animal soul in the mirror never to see the Light again,
As clouds darkly shade your horizon and fate in Hades’ name!
In this eternal land of darkness, the dead do not suffer this fate
So easily, and cast not without honor in their chains the notion
That fear itself, vice destiny, cries out now for your forgiveness,
As One-Eyed Beggars seek and see the basic good within you!
Each day now fades into its own doom, into a dark mist of evil,
And hides carefully inside a “Mountain of Consciousness” where
Your ethereal spirit knows who you really are—as black snakes
slither slowly and silently toward your spirit-mirrored reflection!
You—that “Animal of the Night,” wear now your deceptive mask;
The reality of who and what you really are makes my skin crawl!
You can never return from this darkest “Pit of Hell” my old friend,
For thy animal-human spirit is doomed to all this darkness forever!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 22, 2015
(Narrative Quatrain)
Lemme titillate thee
regarding myself daily soldiering thru breastworks
read out loud to experience where dangerfield lurks
twenty five years a husband unknown marital perks
bachelorhood to die for, cuz warp and weft
courtesy webbed and wedded bliss
incorporates life threatening quirks.
Hazardous beyond belief
analogous crossing a landmine good grief
ensnared yours truly mistaken for Baghdad thief.
Impossible mission to step up pace
when ambling one room to another
footfalls of generic guy approximating brisk,
cuz one misstep could find me flat on back
with damaged spinal disc
worse fate than experiencing
strong arms of law reach out his hands that frisk
old meister wordsmith
merely ventures innocent risk,
yet may as well surrender self to Taliban,
who would willingly whisk
Garden variety Caucasian American bloke
afraid to tread amidst belongings strewn
pell mell outranking rating tornado 5 courtesy
enhanced Fujita Scale
whereat Good Housekeeping ostracized spouse.
As precautionary safeguard, I carry amulet
to ward off ill luck toward life and limb you bet,
especially when gingerly
taking one step after another with lights turned off
owing steadfastness to prayerful debt
intoned toward guardian angel to get
self groping in dark without bifocals
envisioning severely myopic
(blind as a bat generic guy
without spectacles) met
bedded objective where
menagerie of stuffed animals
(albeit Woodstock favorite pseudo pet),
which aforementioned Peanuts character
called warm fuzzy as sobriquet.
The missus bursts out laughing,
whom I damnably scoff at and berate
as I trip head over heels
cursing said spouse ever since first date
at Tex-Mex restaurant
in North Wales, Pennsylvania,
a gut level intuitive sense -
even then our sealed fate
cursed analogously crashing thru Hades gate
antagonistic altercations in actuality
displaced suppressed anger toward parents,
which father and mother (both deceased)
their sole son of did hate
for afflicting psychological trauma
regarding them furiously irate
doling out ultimatums
interestingly enough comfort found
within company of loving mate,
she weaseled compassion
evidenced by poetic prattle I prate,
whereat ye can (of course) highly rate
feedback I eagerly await.
I stand in the swamp by the riverbank
clutching a coin I have stolen
as my heart still beats within my breast
It is only my spirit
that has slipped away
to await the ferryman of Acheron
Charon who
skillfully pilots his skiff
from there to where it flows
into Styx
He arrives and I pay the price
He places the coin in his pocket
and grabs hold of the pole
pushing away from the shore
as I lay indolent with lament
in the bottom of the boat
the icy chill of the water
seeping through the wood
Shivering I stare at the stars
silently weeping
remembering the many wishes
I made on them that went unrealized
unheard
for the Gods must have
found me unworthy
Cerberus will step aside to admit me
heads snarling
as the snakes on his back writhe
Hades will welcome me
Or he may hand me over
to be judged by Aeacus
and plunged into the pit of Tartarus
for my many sins
to be tortured for eternity
starved and beaten
my liver eaten by birds
May he have mercy on me
this sorrowful lost soul
for all I ever wanted
was to dance
carefree and content
to the music of miracles
in the golden flower filled
Elysian Fields forever
with you
Styx
by Michael R. Burch
Black waters, deep and dark and still:
all men have passed this way, or will.
NOTE: According to ancient Greek mythology, the Styx was the River of Death. The dead would pay Charon, the ferryman of Hades, a fare to carry them across the Styx to their eternal destination. (Hades was not "hell" as it was improperly translated in the King James Bible. Hades had heavenly regions, such as the Elysian Fields and the Blessed Isles.) The fee was normally an obolus or danake. The Greeks would place the coins in the mouths of the dead, but over time the custom would become placing coins, usually pennies, on the eyes of the dead.
LEGENDS IN SILENCE, VOICES ETERNAL
Hip-hop icons who faced life’s toughest trials,
Pen laid down, eternal rest in Hades or the stars.
Some losses don’t just echo; they hit hard,
In the stillness, debates are sparked.4
TakeOff, 28 — a quiet genius, finesse in flight & style,
Orbiting greatness, until violence made him fly.6
Tupac, 25 — a legend, prophet, poet, a flame of truth,
Shot into shadows, the system took his youth.8
Biggie, 24 — a wordsmith, heavy with dreams,
A vision too grand, vanished at the seams.¹°
XXXTENTACION, 20 — a whirlwind of sound, emotions laid bare,
Searching for identity, then the sky fell unaware.¹²
Nate Dogg, 41 — the eternal hook, a voice like velvet,
Bringing warmth to evenings, yet time wouldn’t let it.¹4
Eazy-E, 30 — a rebel’s mind and Compton’s pride,
Concrete intellect, but the era’s wounds couldn’t hide.¹6
Big Pun, 26 — a titan with rhymes that spanned the ages,
His craft kept Latin pride alive through all the stages.¹8
Young Dolph, 36 — a king who stood tall and free,
His hustle and legacy of strength lives eternally.²°
Pop Smoke, 20 — tomorrow’s voice, silenced too soon,
Dreams felt unsafe, trapped in a room.²²
King Von, 26 — a chronicler of danger, stories too real,
His story closed the book on him, fate did seal.²4
Nipsey, 33 — a marathon thinker, preaching ownership,
Building futures, but death had a grip.²6
They didn’t just rap; they voiced the pain,
Hope chronicled through bruises and strain.
Fame offered no shield, talent no guard,
Influence couldn’t armor them; life left its scarred.³°
This poem serves as a warning, not just a show,
A lesson, not a headline, urging us to choose life & grow.
Their bodies may rest, but their legacy thrives,
Gone too soon, yet their spirit & legacies survives.³4
VICK MANUEL POETRY {VMP}
FORM: Rhymes
Copyright ©?15th February 2025.
To be seen with Your eyes
Seen without guise
To fix for all time
That look of surprise
What did you see?
Surely not me.
What visage revealed
With a glance thoroughly sealed
To fix for all time
That look of surprise.
What did You see?
Surely not me??
Was I Bottecelli’s Venus
Born from the seas?
Or Hades fair Persephone?
Did Helios’ bright shine
Blind earthly eyes?
What did you see?
Surely, not me.
Yet the Graces of Heaven
Gave me earthly form.
Though I was not Eve,
I was surely reborn.
Reborn into happiness through
Your cornflower blue eyes.
Reborn in the image held in your eyes.
Busy and exhausted by our daily chores,
We take rest in each other's arms each night.
Though sometimes, rashly, we settle our scores,
Our shared bed makes our psychic burdens light.
Like a boat, we sail in this sea of ours;
Herein, we passionately conjugate.
We bathe in cool, collegial showers
And transcend the Hades of humdrum hate.
Our bed is our shrine wherein we are gods;
Here we balance between joy and sadness.
Here-from, we surmount maddening odds;
Cleaving all glooms, existence brings gladness.
Does this shared bed align our souls as one,
Or trap two strangers when the day is done?