Of Ishtar and the transfiguration of Tiamat

Of a land between two rivers, sing I
I—The divine coronated of the eight stars
Etched by the men from Mars,
I—a star Venus
Alone I stood ahead of Cetus.
Carved in clays and stones,
For the sinuous serpent had me lacking bones.
In a chest of seashells
In Gold—
Gold and skin mold,
I stood.
My feet of stones shattered
Of the standoff, what mattered?
I wondered.
I am near collapsing.
In a cavity of stubborn seas,
Filthy fluids awaited the full moon,
In spite, I’m driven out of sight
In a room put.
I prayed for the eclipse of moon
Or at least the endless swoon.
Blood moon, blood moon
Not a blood womb.
Over and over until my voice shiver;
It’s not the time for my womb to quiver.
Reden lips, swollen hips
I am expanding to a fetish.
Dimming skies, awaiting crowd, and then;
Full moon.
Hips filled with sea drips;
It happened! I am Holy! A fertile field for the eunuchs!
Life has emerged in void;
Of noise and cries devoid.
There were no livings. Only four.
A man of dust and ground,
Followed by a maid of stolen ribs and whispers sound
A serpent—
And the owner of the circus.
Daughters of the maid,
Breed the condemned deed
They poured out the dry deserts
And I have become the worshiped of the two rivers
For I am the source of the newborns
Cast in gold and head-horns.
Governed by the faithless livers
Worn in stars and rivers,
I am the atonement of the sinful;
I am the virgin gift of the pious.
I am what was, what is, and what will be.
I am all. I am all.
Look at me. Look deeply at me.
A depicted body of false imaginings.
A disease is what I witness;
Corpses humming words of sickness.
There I stood; as an answer to a false prayer
Clowning for the world’s players.
Despite all chaos and drums,
Still managing, still drums-numb
For I couldn’t run without having to run forever.
Thoughts on a whim?
Strip, whip.
Time of the chant comes,
“Oh blessed Goddess”
I hear in fear.
“You who did fashion us out of nothingness.
Oh Goddess, forgive our sins,
Lead us back naked skins
Return us whence we have fallen”
I lay my head into the deep sleep,
Just another hopeless sheep,
Not a Goddess. Not a fetish, just a creep.
During the deep sleep, my spirit leap
Out of rivers and the rubbish heap
I am ascended high above earth,
Seashells falling into pieces
Stones turning into bones
Clays washed to a skin—
It feels like I have never been.
I could feel. I could feel!
In the air, I could hear whispers
Moving perfectly on the breeze
Voices leading me into the stream
Milk cream— and an amnesia from the steam
So that after all of the sufferings,
I could feel no pain.
Heading to the stream,
Vision fading, body fainting;
My collapse has come.
A belly filled with Gods is leaving me trembling
Damn the moon!
Hideous fingers tearing the womb;
I shall abort!
Sheets filled with blood;
Hid the children in mud
Tearing the sheets, drowning the children in flood,
Now, I could see the stream drying;
A joke for a crying killer who is nearly dying.
In the dimming skies,
I watered the blood moon
Drips by drips,
Flowing down from my hips.
I prayed for the eclipse,
And an eclipse I have become.
A shadow behind—
A shadow of Jupiter.
Cold iron on my neck;
Must be a sword.
Slowly cutting throat;
For I have broken the oath;
Of earth and heaven both
It is the time of the slain.
Cold, cold iron ripping me into two;
Thighs, legs, feet
And an upper with a still heartbeat.
Of skies, my tears are the atoms,
I am the space of a wounded face.
Stars lit out of the stillbirth.
Of earth, I led to a firth;
I am the sea of what was once all I see
Gentle winds raising my waves,
Water struck, water washed,
I am the oceans and the narrow rivers,
That planted greens and heathers.
Pain washed with every tide
A myth—
That died.

Ishtar is a Goddess of Fertility, love and war.
She is symbolised with the Star Venus.
She has been worshipped in Mesopotamia, the land of two rivers.
Ishtar was transfigured into Tiamat.
Tiamat is the Goddess who got pregnant of Gods that made her bigger, the Gods annoyed Marduk (Male God of Babylon) so he slain Tiamat into two halves; one became the skies and the other became the seas.
The act of the slain is a major event that shifted the power from a matriarchy controlling society to a patriarchal one, in the ancient days and still.
The poem has themes of women worship in the ancient days, menstruation and its relation with the moon, women being objects (statues, fetish, art), giving birth, and of course myths.

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M.Ilyas Iliana Ali
9 meses

This poem had me wholly captivated.

alrededor de 5 años

Wonderful! xxxx

Parker Jennings
más de 5 años

Incredible. I love ancient mythologies, and this poem is a grand call to the Babylonian mythos. Very feminine as well, I wonder, what is you inspiration behind your writing? Your rhyming meter is very chaotic but also very controlled, a method to the madness. It's great

Malak Alrashed
Malak Alrashed
más de 5 años

Thanks a lot! I love Myths, too. Way too much, as a matter of fact. Regarding inspiration, well, it's never been one thing. I'm usually inspired by the books I'm reading or the feelings I'm going through. Then, I'd mix that with whatever I got of story-telling, I guess. I used to imagine stories. I wanted to be a novelist. Only recently I figured I could do that in poems.

más de 5 años

Got to read it again! Captivating.

Preferido o celebrado por...

Parker Jennings Vic Delilah M.Ilyas Iliana Ali C.R.Stanger

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