METAMORPHOSES
My smile
floating
in my compact
mirror
as I get carried along
in a river of people
flowing down
High Holborn
stiletto-ing back to work
with the other temps
laughing gaily
amongst ourselves
looking forward to
a weekend’s Paintballing.
I add a little more
scarlet to my smile.
My smile
gazes back at me
almost in love
with itself.
I trap it
in its little prison
snap
it
shut.
Burdened by
my beauty
almost sick
to death of it.
What others would die for
I’d die to be without.
I shiver
in the sunlight
feeling un-really
real.
It’s not easy
being a myth
especially in these times
of disbelief.
I still recoil
in horror when people recall
that hoary old story
of how I was loved
...by a river.
Oh really Arethusa!
I gather up
my green hair
into a ponytail.
Oh those bloody Greeks
and the stories they tell!
Now I am a millennium
or two
...older
I remain still
as beautiful as ever.
Suddenly a voice
comes after me
his shadow
casting itself over me.
Oh ye Gods!
Surely not here…not now…not…again!
“Hey darlin’…why leave
why such a hurry? ”
Alpheus
that old river God
disguised as a cartoon
bowler-hatted-pinstriped-brolly-carrying English gent.
But the wrong vernacular
gave him away.
The river Yob
as he was known even back then.
I tried to pretend
I was mist on a mountain.
But he
wasn’t having any of it.
His voice
pursued me
his shadow
the shape of my terror.
Panic’d…perspiring
I turned into a stream
made a run
for it.
The English gent
dissolved as he
poured himself
into his true form.
I could feel his
strong undercurrent
how his waters
wanted to mingle with mine.
I started crying
which only made matters worse.
And yes…yes
he caught me of course
chased not longer chaste
filled with his lust
& it all happens
all over again.
Who’d be a nymph…eh?
Lusted after…turned into a tree or river.
It’s enough
to drive you nuts.
Ye fucking Gods
I hate being a myth!
It’s a curse
having to go through it
every time someone reads it.
It’s so…frustrating!
Tired now.
Ooops this is…my stop!
I shoved Hughes’s
OVID
back in
my rucksack
leapt off just
as the door closes.
There seemed to be some
commotion on the street
and damn and double damn
Holborn Underground
was closed
due to flooding
havent read you for soooo long Mr.D. i wasnt disappointed tho! super duper as per......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I Merged into its depth... The real metamorphoses.... Great poesy! ! ! ! !