Gorgon's Head (Hero Flies) by BenHammonds, literature
Literature
Gorgon's Head (Hero Flies)
with one quick slash
the head was severed
all snakes going still
as the serpentine body
quivered and roiled about
the hero bent and recovered
that for which he had came
the effort was unimaginable
the strain so terrible
but the hero over came it all
just to retrieve this head
it's precious abilities
now for only one purpose
he quickly put it away
and walked out the door
where winged horse did wait
to carry the hero through
to the place he had to be
the time was near
the hour late
he must get there on time
or innocent maiden would die
such a useless death
sacrificed for a jealous god
so vain she could not stand
that there be beauty alive
that
The Oracle's Words Prophetic by BenHammonds, literature
Literature
The Oracle's Words Prophetic
with gifts of fire and salt
we seek conference to question
the Oracle's words prophetic
will it be words of successes
or a harbinger of sad defeat
with faith and hopes abounding
we present our gifts to her
waiting for a sign of wisdom
pouring from the mouth so wise
soon the words do come in riddle
as we listen with full attention
prophecy given and Oracle quiet
we leave her temple so bare
walking back into the world
where man lives his many lives
often without any guidance
making mistakes and errors
while trying to accomplish much
the gods watching from on high
finding amusement in the blunderings
that they see all men are doing
while trying
She dressed in great pahoehoe ropes
Like billows in a ballroom gown
And then she lay upon the ground
And let the billows settle 'round
All black, but glowing at the seams
With dull red threads upon the slopes
Down which her lambent fabric streamed.
She flowed like water, fast and smooth
And in her wake was roaring flame
That leapt along beside her frame
As happily as in a game;
She rushed to meet the sparkling shore
Her heart of pulsing heat to soothe
And molten blood to overpour.
And as she met the nightblack sweep
She hissed in joy and pain aloud
Her billows rising, white as cloud
And lace, her glorious final shroud.
The w
Hebe put down the bow and the quiver and felt sweat trickle down her back in little annoying rivulets. It was getting warm now, the sun was beaming down from a cloudless sky and the shadows were almost as short as they would become this time of year, not even the trees surrounded the arena seemed able to provide with some cooling shade. On top of that not the slightest of wind was moving, which was rather unusual on the mountaintop of Olympos.
"Let's call it a day, Dicaeosyne. You're improving, and although I know I'm not half a good teacher at archery as Artemis is, I can tell that you're going to be good at this if you just keep practicin
A little less conversation by chibichiquita, literature
Literature
A little less conversation
"So Hebe," Herakles had said. "What do YOU want? When will YOU leave your mother's business and do what YOU want to do with your life?"
"When I know what I want." Hebe had almost said. Instead she had replied something casual and then the dear Ares had finally decided that it was time to bring in the enforcements. He had managed to turn the conversation away from both Hebe and Dicaeosyne simply by asking about his son. How Enyalios was doing. Herakles had taken the bait and began to discuss his young pupil instead. Who said that Ares was not a strategist? May be that he wasn't so found of clever and elaborated solutions as Athena. Ares' ways
"No, brothers," Artemis sadly shook her head, droplets of rain falling from her ox-blood coloured leather hood. "No, I can trace the patterns of Hebe and her kidnappers this far. But then nothing. Someone must've deployed some kind of scrambling magic."
"What's that? Scrambling magic?" Herakles wanted to know, cursing the rain which got in between his jacket and bare skin. He had not yet really learned to shield manually, and hence protect himself against small nuisances like this, although the divine shielding worked well as reflexes against real dangers. But rain, mosquitoes and drifting sand actually demanded that you thought about shield
Less than two weeks later Hebe woke up in a haste from a nightmare. Sweat was chilling her back and wetting the roots of the hair at the back of her head and she had a nagging, foreboding feel inside of her as she felt her heart rush in anxiety. The moon was almost full and since Hebe never used blinds, it shone into her room trough drifting ragged clouds and the whole air primed of approaching bad weather. And not only that. There was something else in the aether. Something strange and outlandish that her divine senses picked up and which made her get out of bed and put on her sandals and a thick woolen tunic over her night gown.
Parts of h
Herakles' reception at the Academeia had been overwhelming. The reaction of the children, when they had learned who was standing in front of them, was priceless. They were so in awe and were expressing such joy that it reminded Herakles of when he had been at the height of his popularity wave, after the capture of the Cretan Bull. It was the same roaring cheers and the calls of his name, the teachers having quite hard to keep their pupils in order, they had all more or less wanted to storm the podium, and only Hebe's kind but firm voice had managed to restore some of the order in the large gathering hall.
When his voice was able to be heard
"So here he is now, walking around and bragging about his bravery and all the deeds he did out there in the realm of the mortals. What a real hero he was, the world just couldn't do without him, when yet another monster came around. And everybody is just eating it up." Hebe said and looked at the Naiads. Her friends had gathered around her on the rocks, unbothered by the pouring rain since they were used to be wet all the time anyway. Hebe on the other hand considered the rain being cold and uncomfortable and she had coated herself in a divine shielding which made her shine like a soap bubble when the rain slid off the magic surface.
The Nai