Tag Archives: mythological poetry

The Custodian of Unfulfilled Dreams

Posted in Poetry English by
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A kingdom where broken dreams go to die—and a king who refuses to abandon them.

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Far away from all this filth and all this stinking mold,

there is a secret and silent realm of unfulfilled dreams

The realm is colorless, neither silver nor purple nor gold,

no laughter or singing, just a chaos of cries and screams

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Each dream, once it’s shattered, and in pain it cries,

it enters the realm, hearing some command unspoken

The horn of time does not blow; it is silent and so wise,

as the dreams lay trampled, crying and utterly broken

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There he sits at the gate, the old and tattered King,

the sad custodian of dreams, he protects and lovingly guards

He has neither a throne, nor a seal, nor a royal ring,

he wears only a crown of thorns and sharp glass shards

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The dreams are his children, a few are even his very own,

he cradles their delicate heads and lovingly treats their sores

Some dreams have broken wings, and some have never flown,

yet he loves them all, whether they are his own, mine, or yours

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The King has tears in his eyes; he cries over the wounded dreams,

he knows they are going to finally die, his efforts are all in vain

The dreams whimper as life bleeds out, in rivulets and in streams,

the King knows they are the last drops of a rare desert rain

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Each dream, when it breathes its very last and silently dies,

he gently kisses its dead eyes, singing the last lullaby

The King is sad, oh, he is so very sad, but still he desperately tries,

caring for dreams, without asking ‘to what end’ or even a ‘why’

Am I Good Enough for You? (A Mini Opera)

Posted in Poetry English by
galatea_and_polyphemus_by_thesecondbus_d7y0cde-fullview-1

This is the final dialogue between the miserable and desperate Polyphemus, and the idealistic Galatea - the helpless lover and the arrogant nymph.

Myth says that once upon a time, even before the birth of time itself, the Cyclops Polyphemus saw Galatea, the nymph, and fell in love with her. But there was a dilemma as he was large and ugly, while she was a perfect beauty. No matter how much he loved Galatea and no matter what he sacrificed for her, she did not accept his love. Finally, doomed and cursed, Polyphemus threw rocks at Galatea and her lover. As a punishment, he was transformed into a river destined to flow amongst the wild mountains forever - alone and miserable.

‘With a heart filled with love and my words so true,

am I good enough for you?

With my mind fixed on you and my soul without a clue,

am I good enough for you?’

He asks Galatea while the shadows of doubt line his single dark eye.

‘No, I am afraid not!’ She smiles at him coldly, untouched by his bitter misery.

‘No matter how hard you try,

you may scream or you may cry

No matter how long you try,

you may bleed or you may die

You’ll never be good enough for me

No matter how high you fly,

you may kiss the earth or may reach the sky

No matter how sincerely you pry,

you may shout or you may sigh

You’ll never be good enough for me’

‘But what if I change, and what if I transform?

What if I become the sunlight after a storm?’

He pleads with eyes filled with all the sadness in the world.

‘No, still no!’ She replies adamantly with steely resolve gleaming in her blue eyes

‘Even if you change and even if you evolve,

from a thorn to a rose, you may transform

Even if you become godly,

and God Almighty Himself approves your form

You’ll never be good enough for me

Even if you evolve

to all my rules, you may conform

Even if you become Adonis,

and loving you becomes a norm

You’ll never be good enough for me’

‘And why is that so?

Why a strict adherence to status quo?’

Looking down, he asks, dejection underlining his desperate whisper.

‘Well that’s a good question.’ She looks at him with pity.

‘You don’t matter,

and you don’t matter at all

Whatever you may do,

either very big or just very small

You may bang your head,

against a high stone wall

You may bloody your fists,

you may stand or may even crawl

Whatever you do is useless,

and you will always fall’

‘Then what should I do?

For my love is so true!’

Polyphemus raises his arms and begs till he is hoarse.

‘That is but for you to decide!’ Galatea decrees with finality — her voice etched in stone.

‘You may die a lonely death,

or you may burn forever

You may fade with the harsh wind,

or you may pray to whomever

You may make great plans,

or you may do something clever

You may aspire big and grand,

or you may rise to whatever

Whatever you do is hopeless,

and I will be yours, oh never!’

‘Silence! You, the wretched lover!

Silence! Yo,u the arrogant queen!’

The skies go dark, and the voice of Zeus booms from above.

‘Quit this nonsense, let your arguing be done

Love is a godly trait, and not a race to be won

You are both mistaken, individually and as one

You are both misguided; logic is what you shun

The capability to love is what’s desired by everyone,

an unfulfilled dream, under the moon and the sun

Polyphemus! You can love, you will be a god in the long run

Galatea! For denying true love, my blessings for you are none’

 

Song of Lilith

Posted in Poetry English by
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Before Eve, before obedience, there was Lilith—and she asked why.

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O’ Lilith, our one mother, and the equal,

was it really you?

Upon the flowers of Eden,

the very first drops of dew?

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You were created out of wet earth,

the very first man’s very first mate

You were his equal, you were his partner;

a companion to him, his destiny, his fate

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It was you who took his side,

and it was you who reasoned

It was you who protested the submission,

the Devil’s shrewdness was so seasoned

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But then you were made a demon,

a vile and dark entity

But then you were made the fiend,

and you lost your real identity

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Were you really corrupt at some level?

Or did you have a rotten soul?

Is it because you are the logic,

which defies all faith and Adam’ role?

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Is this because you realized the concept,

or is this because you disobeyed God?

Or is it because you understood Him,

seeing religion as the original fraud?

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O’ Lilith, I think it was really you,

our only mother and the equal

You could be our grand salvation,

perhaps, the only chance we knew

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You gave birth to reason;

you did not birth us, perhaps

And you gave birth to justice,

reason and justice, victims of our lapse

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We have inherited your wisdom,

though we do not carry your genes

Let it lead to understanding the purpose,

let it become the fundamental means

_____________________________

O’ Lilith, our one mother, and the equal,

was it really you?

Upon the flowers of Eden,

the very first drops of dew?