Once upon a time

Myths, dreams, fairytales....sublime beauties & grotesque monsters & devils who dance like angels..what's your inner life like?  For me, Greek myths were my bedtime stories, and I spent most of my childhood thinking about other worlds than this one, and how to get there. I'm still asking that question.  

I started out as a poet before I ever picked up a guitar. In fact, I toured with L:ollapalooza in the poetry tent, and words mean the world to me. This poem is in iambic pentameter and it’s about identity, myths, and the choices we are given. What we do with them is up to us.

Galatea’s Response to Pygmalion the Occasion of her Transformation

from Statue to Human Form

You never asked:  “Do you care to be a

Human woman born, my Galatea?”

I’d rather be a tall green girl, fed fat

on husks of corn and silken tail of rat,

chuckling in the corner.  I would have laughed

at you, and your god too, for being daft

enough to give a soul to one like me

who will not care for it, not properly.

Inside a statue the thoughts move so slow…

The maintenance of my eternal soul

is bagatelle to one who’s made of stone

and thinks on it every century or so.

When I was stone my nakedness was not

a source of shame.  Now, thanks to you, I’ll rot

in some close graveyard where the rodents play.

They’ll dance the tarantella and be gay

in samba lines, in triplets, on my face

as my entire being becomes waste.

Now I have a voice you’ll hear me groan:

“Why should I be grateful, Pygmalion?”