Sisyphus

 

Who knew how steep the path would be?

How every step exacts a cost?

I’ll not solicit sympathy

for we each carry our own loss.

 

Like Sisyphus we climb that hill

along a slow and winding path;

the boulder rolls before us still

cruel penance from a god who laughs.

 

So accustomed we’ve become

of so much loss, so little gained…

our limbs grow tired, our body numb

while acclimating to the pain.

 

We cannot dwell on might-have-beens

in lieu of all we’ve known and seen;

the hour grows late still we contend

the endless torment of this dream.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023

Obols in Half-Measures...

 

When darkness slips in

    I do not fear the night–

there is comfort found

in the touch of bare feet

against soft cotton sheets.

I watch the pale green glow 

of digital numbers chase shadows

across the ceiling, my ever-present

passive-aggressive antagonist

ticking away the passage of my time.

Fate and fortune, joy and loss, desire, expectation

friendship, companionship, aspiration, belief—

 …we are all just shadows in the night

      our dreams dancing on reality’s  rim

   as we await the darkness to ferry us away.

© Ginny Brannan 2021

Image:Charon and Psyche by John Roddam Spencer

Theorizing the Atlas Curse

I’ve had enough of this endless curse,

the highs, the lows, the stop and goes—

it slows for a moment and speeds up again;

can’t seem to cut a break, can’t seem to win.

Like Atlas,  are we condemned  to carry 

the weight of the world on our shoulders

through all of  eternity?

In theory, there is no rest for the weary

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Fairy Dust

Magic wand in maestro’s hand

directs the powder where to land,

adorns the firs in lace-edged dress

where fact and fiction coalesce.

Soft on barren twigs alight

painting all in winter white;

and landing on the leafless tree,

to capture in pure reverie.

Smitten by such view, pristine

subscribe to all that lies unseen…

enthralled within this wonderland

concur that sprites have had a hand—

so call it 'snowfall' if you must

but I'm inclined to‘fairy dust!’

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Selkie

Salt from the ocean clings to your skin;

enticing, inviting your lover within.

Lost in your softness, enrapt in your spell—

kindling fire no human can quell.

Impetuous creature elusive to keep;

erotic desire is only “skin deep.”

© Ginny Brannan 2014

Written for the Mag #206 Image provided by Tess Kincaid

A selkie is a mythological creature found in Celtic folklore. The word derives from earlier Scots selich, (from Old English seolh meaning seal). Selkies are said to live as seals in the sea but shed their skin to become human on land. If a man steals a female selkie's skin she is in his power. 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selkie

Harbingers

Evening calls to silhouette sentries,

rainslick roads swift-swallow sound;

lifeblood weeps to parch-dry ground,

while ravens silent-watch from trees.

The banshee wails on late-night roam;

then piece-by-piece, they carry me home.

© Ginny Brannan January 2012

**Image Credit to Whitebook @ DeviantArt, titled A Christmas Story for Rezzan

Sirius

Like modern day 'Lady Godiva’

she cycles through the sky,

pulling the “dog days” of summer behind her;

pleasant days turning hot and dry.

But surely, no “dog” is she,

this bright star that shines through the haze.

With only a single glance,

men weaken under her gaze;

while women become aroused--

as within them she lights a flame;

explaining celebration and sacrifice

that’s been given in her name.

She still spins her seasonal spell

that no mortal man may defy;

seducing all who dare to stare

at her brightness suspended on high.

© Ginny Brannan

Photo prompt courtesy Tess Kincaid at Magpie Tales

Magpie Tales #75

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Apollo Eclipsed

Image: Photobucket DSeif 28849

I am drawn to this lady of the night

in luminescent dress of mirrored light.

Beauty combined with mystery and grace,

inspiring poets and artists with her face.

Cerridwen, Luna, Artemis, Selene;

by these and many guises she is seen.

She casts her magical enchantments well,

even true cynics fall under her spell.

And mighty oceans are forced to comply

to mystical woman who rules the sky.

Sometimes her profile is all that we see,

but I favor her full face shining on me…

So turn me away from the harsh daylight,

I succumb to this beauty of the night.

©  Ginny Brannan June 2011

Moon Goddesses and deities:
Cerridwen=Welsh; Luna (Diana) Roman; Artemis and Selene=Greek. 
Apollo of course, Greek god of light and sun