Dearest Aphrodite, My goddess, my lady, Adorned in pearls, throned in gold My lovers speak your name as they cry out in ecstacy They know you in between my thighs. And I see your radiance as I’m taken to your heights Let my lovers know it’s you, it’s you, it’s you It’s always you Advertisements
Woe to those who abuse the closest human bond. Curse upon those who twist the fragile mind of a lover, a friend. May their mind be infested with the rot of centuries of evil, what their kind brought. The ability to love and be loved comes at a steep price. We gamble our affections on… Continue reading Aphrodite’s Curse
Of the divine Hellenic pairings, only Zeus and Hera are more well known than Aphrodite and Ares. The goddess of love and the god of war embraced in an illicit, passionate affair that soon came to be the subject of every temple. Though in well-known mythology it is a small story, highlighting Aphrodite’s overly-sexual nature… Continue reading Aphrodite and Ares Activism
She glimmers endlessly. She shines brilliantly. Iridescent she comes before me. Oh my goddess, Aphrodite, show me how to love. Great Cytherean, what does it mean to be devoted to you? Her glowing body astonishes me and her voice, low, sultry, pleasant, fills the earth. “Beautiful, wonderful lovely devotee. Living for me is not just… Continue reading
It’s been a while since I talked about Aphrodite. Dealing with the fallout of abuse is hard. You’re angry or sad or scared and that’s it. No in between. It’s hard to find compassion when everything reminds you of him and it’s all you can do to continue living. Therapy is a great boon. Local… Continue reading Personal Oddessy.
Goddess Aphrodite, Lead me to your shores. The sand over the dunes burns at my bare feet But oh, to stand in the foam that birthed you, Divine in itself. Aphrodite, great Beautiful Goddess, I’m tired and weary The journey has taken much I long for respite. I close my eyes and hear the… Continue reading Praxis practice
Iridescent-throned Aphrodite, deathless child of Zeus, wile-weaver, I now implore you: don’t, I beg you, with pains and torments, crush down my spirit. I sit by a pond. It’s small, and the lily-pads are dying. Wasps pollinate goldenrods. I breathe, ground, and speak to her through my mind. “My Lady, I’m scared. I’m lonely. Those… Continue reading A Meditation