“on a pedestal, no more – a poem trilogy”

Dear Readers:

Today, I am sharing with you my poem trilogy that was published in The Year of the Poet, a book by Inner Child Press where I was a featured poet this month – carrying such honor together with a fellow author.  In their imagery, these poems deviate significantly from the majority of my previous lyrical compositions.  I hope you will find their invitations to uncover my intended audience at least somewhat of enigmatic quality.

May the rest of your Sunday and new week a delightful one! As always, I look forward to your next visit.


the impotent puppeteer


not an inner beauty nor on the outside

unlike the tender roots where it sprouted

“a bad seed,” voiced only the wise


oh Medusa, how hath thou cloned thyself?

when hath thou destroyed

where hath thou buried

other Gorgons of Ceto

of Phorcys?


why, the choice to rejoice each dawning day

in the unsuspecting for their ills?

oh, how they added to thy antediluvian thrills!


he was no Perseus






oh Medusa, how thou…

with one of thy latest winding tresses

chanted from the chest of a confidante’s conniving hisses

secreted his sole devotee the ultimate scarlet sentence

slithering in and out of her…

suffocated their blood from its essence


he was no Perseus






a head, nevertheless, dons Athena’s shield today

a Gorgoneion,?  Not in the least.  Oh, nay!


Perseus, thy beloved mother knew its lethal envy for long

as hath thy father, the half-outcast, who did not belong


thy sister does at last



the well-meaning chauvinist


Hippolyte Cogniard and his brother The`odore

may be tempted to produce anew

their La cocarde tricolore

in 1839, after all, already

its roots penetrated the First French army

although Nicholas Chauvin – an apocryphal fighter

did probably spend not much time to ponder

what was to become of his exaggerated affection

for it to surpass time, space to infect grave degeneration

an innocent male of today owes him the concept’s doomed derivation:


a woman is obliged to appear pretty

full facial paint, short skirts, high heels are a must

men-attracting smiles should be frequent and a plenty

hair to be of buoyant design, unrehearsed – as on an odalisque bust


her beauty came from nature

its enticing aura lacked pretense

feminine from head to toe – with legs or without

she smiled – at her will and for herself

burst alluring laughters – when she desired


marriage also found her

inside a circle of cages

a mere twenty-four year-old…


the distorted-Chauvin-coveting one spoke:

what is it you expect?

where is your alternative?

who would accept you in his life?


years later, in rapid aging, he found love

dissolved swiftly his first marital union

wedded a woman less than half his age


on the other side of the globe

fences wore away

day by day

the twenty-four year old…



the learned ignorant


in a family of futile males

he reaped one day their parched tree’s single crop

none would dare to conceive the challenge to stop

his edification cured the lost honor of their patriarch


heading clans of men from many domineering generations

he bestowed upon the wives identical dispensations

for they birthed equally wasted boy-children

of fetal eminence


ages passed

indistinctive women attained nobility

as have the sons, their wives, the in-lawed ovaries

their descendants are donned with unrivaled extravagance


the sole daughter has been erased away

along with her nonmale offspring


a pre-natal larnyx had not been contracted to their matriarch…













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