Thus spake the Minotaur

 

Once I was chosen, and played among the stars, loyal, ambitious, sensual, resilient, and then I was chosen again, to accommodate the will of the gods. 

I had to contain what I was, become a compromise knocking at the door of the earth, a spider with seven legs, a once god now the body of a man with the thoughts and desires of a god constrained in the head of a bull, a beast, a monster.

Are you surprised that I could not be contained? Would you ask Zeus to live in a vacuum, a vacuum with horns? 

From being a god I become an earthly menace  with an insatiable appetite, and the more numerous my crimes of passion, the less willing the Gods are to have me back. SO I must be trapped, not on earth or even in Hades but  some other parallel, an ‘otherworld’ where there is no light to pierce the dark, where my misunderstood malevolence can be contained, denied.

I am a snort, a hoof beat, a crunch in the dirt that precedes the screams of death. Who’s that knocking at the door? Another victim whose sins were grave enough to merit such an end.

And so I work, fulfilling the will of the gods, for it must be their will that I am thus, for they made me, and will have me no other way. Do not blame the beast that is created for behaving the only way that it can. I am what I  have been made: bloodthirsty, barbaric, desperate. Inevitable.

(This piece was written as a ten minute exercise exploring the inner thoughts of the Minotaur 13. 01.23)

Solstice

 

Let's call it solstice grey

When huntsmen hound the light

And daylight barely takes flight

Before it is chased away.

Let's call it solstice grey

When the sun is barely seen,

And spring's an impossible dream,

On this, the shortest day.

Let's call it solstice grey.

Bring the Yule log to burn bright.

Let it give warmth and joy on sight

As long shadows are at play.

Let's call it solstice grey

And recognise it's worth:

Rejoice in the new years birth,

For this is the shortest day.

original poetry and writing by©️HACS @ wonderingword.blogspot.com

Let it be so - Pieces written for 'Love Letters to the World'- Creative Writing to include book titles

 Let it be so. A delicate penny-farthing equinox. Sunrise over moon glow, a seduction of light and life reborn. All you need is one happy thought, brothers; sunshine and oranges; a red squirrel; a monkey puzzling. 

Sixty degrees north of the dark side of the moon rests a tale of two cities. Do you see the good news or the bad?

There, on Westminster Bridge lies a rope, one brogue and a silk neck tie. What ramshackle existence ended here? Or, what lost boy found himself once more? 

You can only follow someone else's train so far before you fall down a rabbit hole. I like to think those articles abandoned on a bridge were abandoned, not for death, but for life. They represent a one way ticket to follow a dream, to build a new way of life.