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Three Poems on Greek Love

There are multiple types of love in ancient Greek culture. From Philia, or the love between friends, to Philautia, the love and caring we feel for ourselves. In today’s capitalist society, we often neglect that we can love others in more than just a romantic or sexual way. I hope that these following poems, inspired by different ancient Greek words, can remind you that there are multiple ways to love – and they are as unique to us as our fingerprints.





Me and You


Me and you

Sat on 90s vinyl in the summer heat with our

Thighs sticking to the seats and grand ideas for July

Afternoons floating

Merrily through our heads

With rock and roll music pounding through the air.

And then there’s

Me and you

Rainbow Dash & Applejack & Pinkie Pie &

A couple of horror movies through

The nights where

Sticky-sweet secrets spilled over drinks

And we laughed with all our limbs spread

across my basement floor.

And then there’s

Me and you

Making phone calls across provinces

Putting charges on our parents’ phone bills

When we were just barely friends

And when I couldn’t remember a time

We weren’t bigger than life.

And then there’s

Me and you.

And we’re not the same people we were

When we walked across town

Through sand dunes and snow storms.

We’re older now, almost adults

And I miss the me and you

That we once were



I Found You in the Forest Grove


Crawling through the ramble, I spot the object of my desire. A butterfly-woman, painted in the colours of the sun, golden bliss and blinding reds. Limbs sun-kissed and warmed in baths from spring-green clearings. I move towards this statuesque image cautiously. A Deity made with the creation of the Earth itself that I dare not disturb. My heart quivering with Cupid’s arrow, I gaze upon her restful face, this rose-coloured cherub. The heavens glow above me, and I question the truth that the priests grant us from the gods. I believe the truth lies not on Mount Olympus, but on this woman’s lips, and to kiss her would be to find quiet immortality, in this forest grove.





Split


dark water reflection of the night sky

with my limpid eyes posed, staring back at me my mask slips from my nose

revealing rose-gold features

I break the tranquil surface, letting dew flicker

across my fingertips as I roam through the picturesque

midnight lake blood pools over marbles swirls

And forms a dribbling summer

in search of answers brook

that I feel are beyond my reach

questioning the purpose of creation cascading

is not an easy feat down the palace stairs

droplets splatter across silk and velvet

I wonder if the gods see my Hung heavy like fur trees

Humble mortal suffering or

If they are immune to childish woe after winter storms

My hands, crimson-gloved

Yet, unlike the greats, I do not dread reach for the gilded mirror

the answer to my longings A portal to my better self

They do no haunt me like moonlight on

the lake’s calm face i reach for her, this other woman

An enemy to my own soul

Under this cold moon I As i yearn for her

hold my heart in my hands and kiss

It goodnight She destroys my very being

Laying my thoughts to rest A sacrilege to the old gods





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