Penthesilea She was the kind of girl who dreamt of paradise long before she even knew the word for it. At twelve, she severed the budding rose on the left, to make way for the bow and archer’s arrow. At sixteen, she learned the meaning of loss as she murdered her sister by mistake during a moonlit hunt for deer; all the love she’d ever felt dropped through her like a sieve. For penance, she promised to free the fabled city from the Greeks and to kill Achilles. Later, as she approached Cerberus, a coin on her tongue, she remembered that it was Achilles who’d felled her, unsheathed her helmet and mourned his losses, laid the gold inside his would-be bride’s mouth, placed a hand on her still nascent cheek and worshipped the wasted beauty that lay before him.
It occurred to me as I finished up today's poem that I'm A). writing about girls
and B). writing (what my friend and poet extraordinaire Molly Fisk calls) "American
Sonnets" -- 14 lines, but unlike in Jolly Old England, they don't rhyme :)
Today's poem was inspired, believe it or not, by a Guns n Roses song....
digging the form and the focus, Devi 🙂
“all the love//she’d ever felt dropped through her like a sieve” caught me…felt that drop, which actually felt like her first death and descent
“Sweet Child o’ Mine”? “November Rain”?
paradise city !!!
Devi — I love this. You are an American Sonnet. 🙂
🙂
So, Devi. You’re making me late, I have to read these. :). Also, they are what I’d have written and plan to when I get down to those crevices. I especially love the Cassandra and the Artemis, though I love the same line that Jen Dracos-Tice did. Well, I love ’em all.
🙂 thanks melanie