Around the World in 6 Myths

6.) Thor & Loki in the Land of Giants (Norse): There’s no shame in putting a mere dent in the impossible.




5.) Rama & Sita (Hindu / from the Ramayana): Careful with your assumptions. You may end up looking like a jerk even if you’ve proven yourself generally virtuous.




4.) Anansi the Trickster (Ghanan / Akan): Don’t do favors for tricksters.




3.) Arachne the Weaver (Greek): Don’t be arrogant, even if you’re the best.




2.) Izanagi & Izanami (Japanese [creation myth]): Hell hath no fury…




1.) White Buffalo Calf Woman (Native American / Lakotan): Don’t let your lust get away from you and be careful in your assumptions.

POEM: A Khasi Myth: or, Rodent, Lightening, and Sword

In a sacred forest

a Rodent roamed

who owned a sword

it freely loaned.

This was no hacking

machete blade,

but made of metal

of unmatched grade.

One day Lightening

made a request:

To borrow the blade

believed the best.

Lightening zigged,

sliced, and zagged.

Claiming ownership

 in its boastful brags.

The rightful owner

requested its return.

But the rodent’s

plea met only spurn.

So the critter devised

a clever, sensible plan

in order to bridge

the requisite span.

It needed to climb

from Earth to the sky

because it had no

wings with which to fly.

But it wasn’t just wings

which Rodent lacked.

It had only one item

 to be skyward stacked.

So it piled its poop

as high as it could,

from the base of a tree

past the top of the woods.

Stacking and piling, the

poop nearly touched cloud.

When a thunder crack

struck ear-splitting loud.

Lightening saw rodent

would reclaim the sword

that Lightening had come

to so ardently adore.

Down fell the Rodent

to a pile of fried dung

that had once been its

steps and its ladder rungs.

 You may think that

Lightening got its way.

But the Rodent piles

its poop to this very day.

Someday when Lightening

is momentarily distracted,

Rodent’s sword will be

surreptitiously extracted.

POEM: Building Mythical Beasties

IMG_1651
Hands of a surgeon,
Fins of a sturgeon…

Wait, no… that’s not right.

Let me admit that I have no gift
for mythical fliers that get lift.
One can’t just throw wings on a rat.

Of course you can, we call it a bat!

Alright, bad example…

One can’t draw wings on a whale,
and through the sky expect it sail.

Much better.

How did the likes of primitive man
create the myth of a flying orangutan?

They did no such thing.

Fair enough, then answer me this:

Who came up with ogres that eat babies?
Does a crescent-moon werewolf give you rabies?
Who first saw a spiraling dragon,
and how many drops remained in his flagon?
From whence came the fearless griffin
body of a lion and the head of a… chicken?
If by her shrill scream you know a banshee,
how’d you know it’s not any old woman she?
In how many beds are succubi layin’
in which the occupant ain’t already strayin’?
Leprechaun stories come from notorious drinkers,
and Gorgons and Sirens from a culture of thinkers.
My deficit, it seems, is as aligns with my fears.
Quick, get me a stack of books and a case of beers.