anarchism, poetry, Revolution, Sonnet, Spain, Uncategorized, We The People, Writing

The Onyx and Litarge

We can not jeopardize our only charge

We resolve to fly the peasants banner

Damned for our belief and strident manner

We partisans prevail beyond the marge

 

The land inspires the onyx and litarge

Which will forever be the People’s streamer

Aragon shall be its own redeemer

With fate as its commitment to discharge

 

We warriors whose hearts beat in harmony

Unfurl the flag and watch the colors soar

Caballeros of truth and anarchy

Avenge the lamentations of the poor

Strive onward contra fascist tyranny

And banish their deceit forevermore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ancient Greece, Ancient History, art, Fiction, Love, poetry, Sex, Sonnet, Women

The Tragic Lust of Herakles (A Sonnet)

By the hand of Herakles, Achelous
Lay defeated. And thus the god of tide
And flow was disgraced. He fled and thus
The mighty godson fondly claimed his bride

The womanly seed of Calydon cried
Aloud for her new master and darling
And to river Euenos they did ride
While the fragrant winds of night were blowing

The lovers rode ‘til the light of morning
At the river’s edge the imp Nessus did lurk
While the water beyond was wide and raging
As a ferryman the centaur did work

Herakles paid the fiend a modest fee
Take my bride safe across the flow said he

The son of Zeus braved the raging water
Upon the back of Nessus rode his bride
The lusty daemon tried to purloin her
Chastity to relieve his raging pride

The jealous godson just could not abide
This outrage against his hard earned true love
Herakles grabbed the warrior bow at his side
Given his true aim by the gods above

Arrows poisoned by the hydra thereof
The hero let fly and smote the shameless
imp as he fled his rudely taken love
His bold heart slowed ‘til ’twas almost lifeless

Alas! Before the fiend would deign to die
He spun a truly cruel and cunning lie!

The supple Deianaeira went to the
Dying creature as he lay dying on
The blood soaked river shore. Whereupon she
Was ensnared by the centaurs clever con

Said Nessus, Fair lass thou hast indeed won
The right to keep your noble maidenhead
But alas your own bridegroom the godson
Will not lie with you only in his bed

The girl did rend the hair upon her head
And asked what could be done to save her
Honor? Nessus smiled, and this is what he said
My blood can calm the lust that may occur

And so the maid did trust the vicious brute
And she hid fast his sanguinary suit

Now Nessus knew the heart of Herakles
The hero oft’ explored harems, boudoirs
And other realms meant to beguile and please
With the selfsame zeal he lent to his wars

Twas with the libertine he shared his mores
In the bed of lusty Omphale he
Was carnally enslaved. Fulsome acts
Of love they shared by the ardent sea

A lust like it can never again be
And Heracles was soon loosed from his chains
In sooth he was reluctantly set free
No man ever suffered such a sweet pain!

One may think that such passion was enough
But life was made for such amorous stuff!

Herakles took Megara, and Hebe
sweet and pure. He clasped to fair Iolaos
In a familial and familiar way
But none were like those in Thespius’s house!

Twas in the Hills about Mount Helicon
That brave Herakles slew a lion most mean
In payment for his trouble the godson
The King gave his daughters as nightly queens

What sport! Heracles would have to find means
To ravish fifty maids on fifty nights
While keeping his strength for the sundry fiends!
He went to his task as the moon took light

Drunk on amber wine he claimed his prize
Though all the maids looked the same to his eyes!

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Ancient Greece, art, poetry, rhyme, Sonnet

Epimeliad (A Sonnet)

Your lips votive of the kisses I would plant

On your lips as sweet as mint and sugar

In a hearty cup of tea that, alas, can’t

Sooth the awful lust my heart does auger

 

O charming Epimeliad the longer

You evade my amorous arms

The more you ensure my love grows stronger

The more you will engender my stalwart charm

 

I long for the supple apples ‘tween your arms

The sense of your name and your holy trust

These aromatic treasures must meet no harm

Protect them from the ruin of earthly lust

Your intentions as pure as your hair is sallow

Your blood is worthy, as rich as tallow

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