Certainty Of Age Can Turn To A Cage

 

XXXXIII

Of desire’s denial
For reason puerile
Of “moral” obsession
Perceived indiscretion
Of vanity unseen
On which artists preen
Of the existential horror that was her life
Brought into being to just be his wife
-Oh halcyon Muses nine-
For your version I simply haven’t the time
At best you tell it as some sort of joke
Ignoring how she’d been born to a yoke
You do not even give her a name
Not even statues are all called the same
So despite my ineptness it now falls to me
To give life to life given by Aphrodite

Dr. Zeus – Book IICanto XIII

In issues of love it’s not just the youth
Who’ll act silly, stupid, uncouth

Each stage of life has its own flaw
And to move mortals through them is nature’s law

And resentment and judgement ossify well
So on imagined immorals the elderly dwell

Such was the case for Pygmalion, that king
Though to his people he did fortune bring

But he thought that all women did impurely act
And that thus a spirit they clearly did lack

For there must be something, some inset flaw
To explain the rot in their morals he saw

For women should not explore their lust
But for men to do so is simply just

Pygmalion though cared for womanly curves
Nothing from them could make him swerve

He thus had no inkling to Apollo’s lead follow
He’d just leave those women to in their sin wallow

Their wanton action he’d let them enjoy
Let them alone to treat sex as a toy

But never would he himself degrade
By marrying a woman who a harlot was made

And as no woman remained pure and chaste
No woman ever that Cypriot chased

Since no woman he would take to bed
He focused upon sculpture instead

He poured all his lust into marble creation
For they could not commit self desecration

So wild in eye time after time
He found in the rock his form sublime

His perfect woman he eventually made
To caress, to touch her – how him she bade

She was exactly as a woman should be
Taunting in form with no agency

She could not try to taunt or to tease
It was all for him to look as he please

He didn’t her paint, left her pure white
He caressed her form every night

Soon he came to love his creation
Wished she were capable of insemination

So to that goddess of Lemnos he pleaded
To give him the woman he thought that he needed

And Aphrodite, my sister, enjoys a good joke
And he was a good target that stupid bloke

For through it she wished to show him his error
So that he would treat all women fairer

So life into that statue did she then breath
And over this choice all us should grieve

Prove that all humans did look for their pleasure
That that joy was their greatest treasure

That a women “unruined” still had desire
That passion was life’s innermost fire

But that newly born woman had memories of ‘fore
Knew the king’s thoughts, how he did her adore

So while Aphrodite wished for her to him distress
She couldn’t for she couldn’t her lust express

On women she’d heard him as he did rant
Knew that on them his opinions were scant

If he thought with life she’d be granted desire
He’d have smashed her instead – called stone a liar

For clearly it must be a trick of a god
To take his perfection and then make it flawed

And at that age he could not overcome
His bias, his prejudice, he had them become

So he would not act differently now
He viewed women as chattel, as livestock, as sow

If she didn’t live up to his expectation
She would be butchered, none knew her creation

She still was a secret, no debutante yet
On her life she just couldn’t bet

So she had to play what he saw as her part
Though, inside, it would tear her apart

She must be sweet, quiet, demure
Mustn’t try his excitement to lure

But when he returned and was by her inspired
She realized it wasn’t what he truly desired

For however he railed ‘gainst women impure
Of his attraction he wished to be sure

So she couldn’t just be and react under him
In the heat of the moment she must fill every whim

She could no interest show – as though any she had
In her common life – for that would be bad

Her desire must be as a loose thread
That he could pluck when he wished her in bed

And with it loose she must then unravel
‘Cross all depravity be willing to travel

For despite inexperience he must himself view
As the greatest of lovers that none could eschew

And this ruse she played well enough
He never caught on that ‘twas all a bluff

So to her he gave his lust narcissistic
For he just loved himself – he’s just that simplistic

To him she was of desire a vessel
With thoughts of her being he did not even wrestle

Never even did he give her a name
He thought her a tool and did treat her the same

But she gave to him children – he now had an heir
And he thought too her love – but ‘twas only despair

Thus as her body he too shaped her life
But not heart or mind which were always in strife

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