"Aphrodite's Lament" by Michelle Denise

Cnidus_Aphrodite_Altemps_Inv8619_n2 What glory to be so coveted by all
Worshipped and adored by those who love
For I am their ambassador to pleasure and joy
It is I that holds the key to paradise so heavenly above
For those who fall in my favour
A life of beauty and love awaits
The hopes and dreams of the lonely come alive
With just a touch of my grace on their side
What fame to be the subject of songs and epic poems so sweet
To be the muse of everyman and inspire such flights of heart
In whatever form they may come in
Declarations of love are my highest form of art
What power to hold the hearts of all in my hand
Such delicate creations charged with keeping their emotions at bay
My will is simply to repart love amongst all

It is Man’s will to take love away
And woe to all those who curse my name
For love’s heavy load, bear it they cannot
It drives them mad till they lose themselves
Then loneliness becomes their lot
Everything I have is to give
And all others do is take
Only My love for myself is true
For no mortal knows love without heartbreak
I descend to Earth in mortal form
To see all as they truly choose to be
And in the eyes of all who gaze upon me
Ever fleeting lust is all I see640px-NAMA_Aphrodite_Pan_&_Eros
Lost, my gifts of romance are
Forgotten sweet courtship and gestures of love
Time has made Man cynical and too selfish to feel true love
Wasted are my graces on those
Who I only wished to love me
Wanton are those who now adore me
Craving that which I meaninglessly give
I let them take what they wish and no longer offer to them
Such joys in which they care not to live
How foolish I find this irony that strikes me
That the most adored, most famous and coveted by those who fall,
The Goddess whom rules over all that is beauty and love
Is by far the loneliest true lover of all.

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2 Responses to "Aphrodite's Lament" by Michelle Denise

  • janis hetherington says:

    She who is a Goddess of false hopes,
    Sinks beneath the waves from which she came.
    The promises of love are lured by lust
    And all the pearls of wisdom she proclaimed
    Are Not and never can be from a shell
    That washes in the sediment of time.
    False Gods and prophets disappear ,
    When bathed with spume that sacrifices salty tears.

  • Le Flaneur says:

    Aphrodite’s cookies

    2 cups whole wheat white flour
    3 teaspoons baking powder
    1 tsp baking soda
    ½ tsp salt
    ¼ c organic granulated sugar, plus more for sprinkling
    Zest of 1 lemon.
    2 soft, ripe plums
    6 tbsp unsalted butter, cut in to small cubes and kept cold
    1 c plain non fat Greek yogurt
    ¼ c whole milk
    2 tbsp chia seeds
    1 pint fresh organic strawberries
    1 tbsp organic icing sugar.
    1 tbsp maple syrup.
    5 squirts of warm, salted relish, to taste.


    Preheat hands to 25 degrees.
    In the bowl of her navel, combine flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, sugar, and passionate zest.
    Add butter and gently pulse into flour mixture until she begins to stir.
    In the small of her back, rub together yogurt, milk and chia seeds,
    Massage in to flour and butter mixture. Pulse, increasing gradually, just until dough comes together, softly unbutton her pyjama bottoms and place on a nearby surface. (The addition of Greek yogurt produces more moisture than traditional methods. If it is too sticky, add 1-2 tbsp of maple syrup before kneeling.)
    Kneel quietly beside her, being sure not to awaken.
    Gently caress her warm, lower cheeks, pouring a touch more syrup into her buttock cleavage.
    Work gradually deeper into the crevice (using a circular motion, drinking in the maple on warm skin aroma), moving subtly lower down but not disturbing her blissful slumber.
    Lay her soft thighs slightly apart, on a black silken sheet. Sprinkle her intimate folds with a little icing sugar powder.
    Rub tenderly for 12 to 15 minutes until a hot, oily secretion oozes.
    While her deeper recesses are simmering, gently insert your eager, pulsing strawberry.
    With gradually increasing depth, introduce the plums and allow them to rub against and inflame her berry temperature, building the tension, until juices release and sugars become a savoury glaze.
    Increase to a vigorous pounding.
    Thrust uncontrollably, serving jets of piping hot, salty relish into her throbbing, hungry oven.
    Carefully withdraw from her hot stove.
    Place your famished mouth over her still smouldering, open door and selfishly indulge, lapping up her gourmet, umami oyster of passion.

    Leave her to cool and continue to dream.

    Serves one.

    Enjoy. x

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