Monday, July 11, 2011

But, one more thing about Hephaestus...

Hephaestos' myths include a conflicting relationship with his parents. Myth tells us that Zeus and Hera were so disgusted by the imperfection of Hephaestos that they threw him from Olympus.

Crashing down upon the Earth he was saved by Thetis, and in her care and that of Eurynome, he was hidden in a cave surrounded by Ocean (An Island) where he learned to work metal and stone to create magnificent pieces of art and practical utility.

The myths vary, of course, all myths do, and in some cases he is the son of Zeus and Hera and in others the son of Hera alone, who bore him in anger against Zeus. But regardless, it left him with, if not a hatred, a disdain for the actions of his mother.

I can relate to this, though in my case, it is the actions of my father that I associate with this spirit of abandonment and rejection.

I know, I am old enough to be over this, and in most aspects of my life, I am, but in others, I know the disdain I feel for my father informs a great deal of what I feel toward my family as a whole.

My mother is not at all pure and innocent, she was abusive as well, but his abuse, his lack of concern for us, and his abandonment of us combined drove a steak in my heart that I find hard to let go of. I can't love him, even when I try to be civil, I just can't love him, and I think, perhaps, the reason I am having trouble moving on from Hephaestos is that he wants me to let go of this. I think, maybe, he wants me to reconcile with my father, even if I can't love him.

It's not something I can manage any time soon, and so I am going to have to work on my inner self, my thought processes, in order to get myself to a place where I can do that.


Thursday, July 7, 2011

I Am War

I go out for you

To the slaughter and the suffering of the battlefield

Where you ask me to kill or be killed

To murder and rape and pillage in your name

I am forgotten, displaced, and mistreated on my return


I have feinted in the heat of the day

Born down to the earth by the weight of this armor

The blood pouring from parts of me I can no longer feel

The fear and release of exhaustion reminding me I live

The shit on my legs no longer bothering me


I have killed children

In the torching of cities, they have died

I have watched as mothers hold strong to their children as arrows pierce their hearts

My heart aching to see my own children who have likely forgotten me

My adored wife a distant memory, her face no longer clear in my head


I have suffered for you

And at my return I see your scorn

I see in your eyes the distaste for what I have done

I see in your face the distaste for what was asked of me

I see in your posture the loathing of the reminder that it was you who asked it of me.


I am war, your companion

I am war, your protector

I am war, your enslaver

I am war, who you hate

I am war, without whom you do not thrive.