Archives for posts with tag: myths

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Snappy Refrigerator Magnet Saying
by Nancy Lynée Woo

I like my men how I like my
crossed word puzzles:
complex, frustrating and
nongiveupable –

The only love worth having
labyrinthine.

I am no princess hoping on toads;
Give me your ugly, your worst,
your most frightening Minotaur
and a string.

SOURCE: Originally published at Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets (Feb. 21, 2014).

IMAGE: “Minotaur’s Repose” by Pablo Picasso (1933).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: The whimsical, fanciful and mythological are of special interest to me. I love poetry because it lives in the world of the imagination, yet it is the imaginative act that often allows space for a hard truth to be seen. As humans, we have always told stories, and it’s fascinating to see certain archetypes appear throughout time and across different cultures. I am endlessly intrigued by the process of mythologification—how our mythologies influence or shape the way we think about the world and what we come to believe, and vice versa. Plus, it’s just great fun to write about goddesses and monsters.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Nancy Lynée Woo spends her free time hitching a ride to the other side of maybe. She is cofounder and editor of a social justice-based literary press called Lucid Moose Lit.  Often caught cavorting around Long Beach, California, this poet can also be found at nancylyneewoo.com.

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THE RED SHOES
by Mary Bast

Yeah, I know you’ve heard of me, probably via H.C. Anderson. Some say you shouldn’t take me too literally. What kind of girl would, #1, be so desperate for a pair of shoes she’d do anything to get them? Oh, have you forgotten a stranger took me in? How do you know what happened to me before? Maybe I was a victim of human trafficking. I was a cute kid and knew how to charm people, so there’s no way I was going without those fancy slippers. I wanted them because no one else had such elegant footwear, and for the first time in my life I felt special. I saw no reason for the demand to not wear them in church. A stupid rule, asking to be broken. #2, do you think I knew the damn shoes would never stop dancing?

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: According to Bruno Bettelheim, fairy tales give children a structure to work through shadow issues. As a child, my favorite fairy tale was about a girl, “more than nice,” who was finally given a pair of red shoes she coveted. The shoes made her want to dance and she wore them everywhere, even to church – though she’d been ordered not to. Whereupon the shoes kept dancing, clinging so fast when she tried to remove them, she had to have her feet cut off! Macabre though it seems, what a great metaphor for my shadow longing to not be such a “nice” little girl and at the same time worried about dire punishment if I strayed.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Mary Bast writes poetry, found poetry, and memoir. Most recently she’s been in Blue Monday Review, right hand pointing, The Writing Disorder, Pea River Journal’s “Remaking Moby Dick,” and Poetry WTF!? When Mary’s hands are not on computer keys, they’re holding brush to canvas, inspired by North Central Florida’s woodlands, lakes, and prairies.

Image
IN FLIGHT
by Jennifer K. Sweeney

The Himalayan legend says
there are beautiful white birds
that live completely in flight.
They are born in the air,

must learn to fly before falling
and die also in their flying.
Maybe you have been born 
into such a life

with the bottom dropping out.
Maybe gravity is claiming you
and you feel 
ghost-scripted.

For the one who lives inside the fall,
the sky beneath the sky of all. 
***
Jennifer K. Sweeney is the author of two poetry collections: Salt Memory (Main Street Rag, 2006), available at Amazon.com, and How to Live on Bread and Music (Perugia Press, 2009), available at Amazon.com. Visit the author at jenniferksweeney.com. This remarkable poet offers private instruction and poetry critiques. Learn more here.

ILLUSTRATION: “Flying cranes,” stencil by Henny Donovan.

Image
IN FLIGHT
by Jennifer K. Sweeney

The Himalayan legend says
there are beautiful white birds
that live completely in flight.
They are born in the air,

must learn to fly before falling
and die also in their flying.
Maybe you have been born 
into such a life

with the bottom dropping out.
Maybe gravity is claiming you
and you feel
ghost-scripted.

For the one who lives inside the fall,
the sky beneath the sky of all. 
***
Jennifer K. Sweeney is the author of two poetry collections: Salt Memory (Main Street Rag, 2006), available at Amazon.com, and How to Live on Bread and Music (Perugia Press, 2009), available at Amazon.com. Visit the author at jenniferksweeney.com. This remarkable poet offers private instruction and poetry critiques. Learn more here.

ILLUSTRATION: “Flying cranes,” stencil by Henny Donovan.