spl /
/ it
s e r p e n t i n e tongues
s
l
i
t
h
e
r
in pits of despair ~
turns wicked to
s t o n e
Medusa, My Moon
A medusa piercing the curtains, cursing me
The moonbeams, hugging my weary back,
A futile attempt to bring me back,
My heart, eyes that desire death are open,
Yet my two eyes, confined by the vision of hope…
My wandering body, petrified with life,
A jail , a false promise seducing me,
Could the moon’s love break the curse?
Turn me to stone, to save me from suicide?
Laid out for surgery, a patient prude
Swaps self guided for guile - Medusa’s will
Noisy neurons mute, poor Nerida nude
Serpent puncture spreads in her, poison pill
Twirls twilight silent, sticky dark danger
Cotton candy cloud, clement synapses
Petrifying practitioner changed her
Nerida’s urge for control collapses
Fang flung, spiralled far from mediocre
Transfixed in toxin, menacing method
Venom swoll jugular veins squeeze choke her
Doctor’s dose meticulously measured
Tangled snake strands, table statue taboos
Dagger dipped in blood leaves only a bruise
Numbing Needle
Ninth of January
Hundreds of frenzied snakes
Slithering from her head
Looking at me
While her gaze wants
To turn me to stone
But I glance away
Knowing the damage
That can be caused
I met her
Dwelling in a cave
Unaware of most slang
But she endures
A painful existence.
This Medusa
A friend or fiend
You tell me
I need to know
But I will love her
Forever and a day
One half orange and one quarter lemon
Exchanging packages
Will be our right
True love
While romancing sunsets
Just remember
To avoid the gaze
When she’s beside herself
And all will be
Just fine
Inspired by Medusa, written and sung by Glenn Hughes, with Trapeze
I look at you and can only stare.
I love your long and flowing hair,
your smiling lips and eyes that flash
as you bat each knowing lash.
Yet sometimes very late at night,
or when the light strikes you just right,
your beautiful hair turns into snakes.
Your look gives me the creeps and shakes.
Maybe I drank something too strong,
or maybe I said something wrong.
I'd rather ride an appaloosa,
but I'm married to Medusa.
And so I turned away from the world
I faced myself
My shadows writhing set in stone
I saw myself alone
I stared myself unknown
In silence to insane
I retired in self blame
Written: July 2nd, 2024 For Robert James Liguori Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Patience has been my companion
Through endless days and nights
In the sweep of love
A gentle caress upon my essence
Emotions stir within
Rise with the sun, my dear
May you never stray.
You've been evading me for years
Spinning in endless circles
Forever spinning outward
I have a love that fills my heart
An unspoken love, concealed within
Patience has been my companion
Farewell.
In anticipation of my love's arrival
Oh, longing to embrace my scope
Emotions stir within
You've been fleeing, always on the move
Caress the depths of my being
Pause for a moment.
face not for kissing
eyes burning bright like comets
snake like hair hissing
What anguish masks her face
with cherry chapstick on her lips
and Medusa’s beautiful head of hair
there are signs of inner turmoil seen
in her deep blue eyes and her demeanor,
Or is this just an attempt to conceal her
quintessential adolescent awkwardness?
Contest: A Brian Strand #1172.
You were a close friend.
Until I had a different point of view.
Your tiara turned into snakes.
Envenomated my peaceful place.
In turn, I gifted a mirror to you.
The Medusa
I painted a picture of a tranquil bay, a red boathouse
rowing boat, golden pebbles in shallow water
naturally, the sky was blue, the mountain afar hazy.
A noise upstairs, the woman rearranging furniture
doesn’t go out and gets bored, breaking the dream.
When she was done, I looked at the painting again
it had changed; the boathouse had holes in the roof
the mountain was too close, gloomy and snowy
In the sea, a medusa, with tentacles reaching
70 years back in time when the aside was spoken
lasted into the future.
The sting of the medusa had a woman’s face, stung.
When the aim of the bite had gone, the hurt had not
putrid through the ages, a wound that does not heal.
The upset said: “we can no longer tolerate this slight
against us.” We are a proud nation.”
No one knew what the remark was about, it had been
vindictive, and a demand for a historic apology was issued.
Sabre rattling, ambassadors left armies at borders
war broke out.
As venomous as her snakes,
Don’t let her honeyed words crawl onto you.
Or else you will be bitten to death;
She will tell lies in front of you.
Indescribably at her best manipulating the weak,
Her tyranny never failed to charm me;
It surged week after week.
Medusa’s cruelty seethed all over the place.
The damned wicked gorgon is resurrected;
She’s one for the ages.
Medusa arrived like most dandelions
All over the place with a bobbly head
She was an anomaly, a work of art.
She exuded a rareness; she was unique.
I watched her fill up the dandelion patch.
She overtook her sisters and brothers.
A giant in their midst, Medusa was a catch.
I lugged strangers into my yard to see her.
She is no dandelion! Some would say.
Then what is she? They would examine her.
Some wanted to take her apart in dissection.
I sent them packing.
I stopped bringing strangers in to peer at her.
I felt I had violated her trust enough already.
The other dandelions started turning.
I photographed proof of Medusa.
Three sisters
Medusa, Stheno and Euryale
From Greek mythology
Winged women
With venomous snakes for hair
Two immortal, one not
King recruits Perseus to slay Medusa
The only mortal one
She happened to be pregnant
Out of her headless body sprang
Pegasus a winged horse
and a giant with a gold sword
Makes a terrific story
Do not gaze into Medusa’s eyes
Even though she has been beheaded
Or you might turn into stone
Toxic serpentine bite
Wicked tis vile appetite
Eyes malignant heat
Spew malicious deceit
Warriors cast to stone
Charity ne’ver condone
Coils of slithers amass
Malevolence came to pass
Cold tis heart despised
Sculptures highly prized
Stoic beauty, pillars of salt
Lest ye stare no blame to fault
Accursed to damn or quell
Apathy for virtues expel
Trespass sanctum if dared
Mercy tis utterly spared.
Related Poems