On becoming the Gorgon

Maybe you know me. At least 

you’ll have heard of my eyes

and how you ought not look

at them- fulgent, burrowing

beneath a veil of thick writhing 

braids. Don’t worry about me, 

I’m harmless. I only like lounging

under the moon. Solitude a cloak

that keeps the old dogs at bay. 

See, I was always just born & 

how could I help to be beauty. 

A rose does not create itself, 

it just lives and lives and lives

until someone comes and shears

it from its root. Then ferries the 

fragile body back to a dusty room. 

There, it becomes transformed. 

No longer the thing it was born

but something closer to the shedding

scales of a snake. Each petal ebbing

from the head one by one. Soon, 

the stem becomes inured like stone

under the gaze of bright mornings 

through the window. You have 

probably seen it and know. I

don’t know. I have this thing 

where I crave the raw look. I pull it 

in to me, knowing, that like that rose

every eye that sees me will turn, 

at heart, to dark veined marble 

with a gaze forever tilted away

with a gaze forever heaved

up to the moon & afield from me

Author's Note

In some versions of the Medusa myth, she is raped by Poseidon and transformed into the monster by Athena as a punishment. This poem stems from that story.

Reviews

[SkinlessFrank]

To be a woman in a man’s world is to have the eyes and minds of men always upon you, gazing and defining who you are. This poem makes us think back to those younger years when we would ask, “who are we?”. It has us recall that sense of being on the verge of self-discovery until life plucked us from that journey. The soul in your poem tells us that she “craves the raw look”. I think we all do. To reject those gazes and be ourselves in a world that is forever defining us from superficial qualities verges on a supernatural power.

[Eilis]

I like that you brought up the question of identity. For me that is so closely aligned to the idea I was trying to express here. Sometimes the ability to explore those questions of who we are is taken from us and replaced with a false construct imposed by others. Yet it is instinct to seek out ways of understanding the self. Sometimes the only way to feel empowered is through shutting out the world and embracing the power one has to eschew connection. If there happens to be someone that can stand up to the raw look and not turn to stone, the life built becomes a question. But the stone exists inside first, I believe, if it is able to be transferred. Thank you for your always thoughtful readings of my poems. I do enjoy your responses.

[Marie-Louise.]

Hi Eilis
I am having trouble not receiving emails. I have tried so many things to sort it. This problem started last Friday. I have written to admin@Writerscafe but no reply. Have you managed to solve the problem. Sorry to say I have not looked at your work, so concerned have I been about this problem. I shall look now...promise.

[Eilis]

Hi, no, I haven’t gotten the problem resolved. I think everyone is having the same problem. I also contacts the admins but haven’t received a reply. Hopefully the issue will be resolved soon!

[Marie-Louise.]

Sorry. I wrote to you on your John Muir poem too. Please don’t trouble to answer that too, but I must tell you that I love the poem. Thanks for your reply. Let’s hope all is sorted soon, I really miss the emails.

[Marie-Louise.]

It is sorted, I think. I received an email from you, my first in five days. So your emails should be filtering through. Good luck.

[Eilis]

Thanks, Marie-Louise. I see I got email notifications from you as well. Take care.

[R.E. Ray]

Eilis, as I do with most of your work, I discovered more than poetry. I've learned more about Medusa in this one. I believe your use of the rose in this piece is simple and brilliant. We can all see, feel, and smell the rose. We've seen the roses grow in the garden, posed in the flower shops and supermarkets, and arranged on tables in our homes.

When we see the rose as life, and a life we (humans) take for granted and often end with a knife or scissors, the comparison to human tragedies is more striking. And, we see ourselves, subject often to the violent tendencies of others, plus the aging process, and how we wilt away and ultimately dissolve into the earth.

As with your other poems, the imagery and emotion your create in your well-chosen words and crafted verses require no supplemental paintings or photos. Remarkable poem as written and formatted here.

[Eilis]

Thanks for this thorough and insightful examination of the poem/idea, Robert. Myths are fascinating to me, and I enjoy sometimes trying to create parallels with some of the women out of old myths. Parallels between them and a more modern idea of a woman, I mean.

Carol Ann Duffy wrote a whole book of poetry centered around the woman’s voice in old stories. I found her adaptations compelling and sometimes I’ll try one of my own.

Glad you enjoyed this one. I appreciate all the things you had to say. Those are definitely represented here. Always nice to hear from you. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.

[R.E. Ray]

You're welcome.

[Einstein Noodle]

interesting take on a beautiful terrifying bit of myth ... your closing brings me to think of those who are scorned for one reason or another .. innocents born different perhaps ... or too "common" to gaze upon ... drawing out compassion in me ... but woe I would feel it for Medusa eh!? ;) I had to refresh me noodle on her story and read that she was the daughter of Phorcys and Ceto according to some and others say the daughter of Gorgon and Ceto ... but I am very very thin on knowledge of Greek Mythology .. I like in your closing that brings a human element to your story ... some can turn hearts to stone can't they ... very much enjoyed reading ... made me dig further and read several times .. each time a fine read for me... it is very free verse with couplets that give strength of form for me .. I was looking for some rhyme, however ... don't know why ... seems it might pepper things up a bit. ... love the story and history .. told in a fresh new way ... a challenge to be sure!
E.

[Eilis]

I always thought of Medusa as the monster in the Perseus quest story—the severed head that was still deadly—until I read a version of her story where she was actually punished for being raped. That turned everything in my mind. I was playing with that idea here. The things you say make me feel like I’ve hit the mark in ways, so thanks.

I’ve always been fascinated by mythology. The human elements still seem applicable to our own sufferings and experiences. But I too have to brush up on the stories each time I encounter allusions to them.

Thanks for your in-depth thoughts on this, E. Your idea about rhyme is noted. I am not sure I’ve written a rhyming poem aside from my villanelles, but it might be a good exercise for me. Appreciate your time and thoughts.