• Hephaestus Forges Love


    I figure ol' Hephaestus for a typewriter man. In another time, he might have made a fine repairman of all things bent and broken, an artist in iron and steel. Why, there's no telling what kind of machines we'd be knocking on.

    Maybe he needed a little anger management training. Maybe he wouldn't have been quite prepared for the women's movement. I'll bet he could fix fix a few of my typewriters, though. There's that.

    And Aphrodite? She could hold her own.

    15 comments → Hephaestus Forges Love

    1. Aphrodite as sweater-girl tickles me, for some reason. Loved this one. Really.

    2. This poem remains my favorite Monda creation.

      I always felt kind of bad for Hephaestus. Here he is all ugly and lame, but kept around because he has a useful skill, then he gets THE girl, and she screws around on him with frickin' Ares.

    3. Well-forged poem!

    4. Crazy People I said... August 27, 2009 at 1:11 PM

      I absolutely LOVE the vintage look of your blog. Well done!

    5. Re: Above post - my spazzy fingers hit the publish button before I was finished! Sorry!

    6. Amazing artistry! I'm glad I stumbled upon this blog.

    7. Indeed a great Monda creatiion

    8. Thanks, y'all! And no, Mike, Hephaestus couldn't catch a break. There's a trophy-wife life lesson in this somewhere.

      I'm not sure what "sad irons" are, but they made me think of the poor fella.

    9. cool blog

    10. Monda, darlin', how have I missed reading one of your very own poems until now? I love this. Them ancient Greeks knew a thing or two about human nature, that's for sure.

      Do you have some poetry collections published? I'm gonna mosey around your blogosphere & see if I find some more.

    11. I used to be a poet, but misplaced my 'edge' somewhere in the 90s. If anyone finds it, please wrap it carefully and send it back to me. I'll pay postage.

    12. What a creatively laid out blog!!

    13. Oh, lordy, Monda. Me, too. I wrote lots of poetry in my twenties. Delivered lots of heart-breakingly earnest public readings, those precursors to poetry slams, back in the 70's & 80's. O-2-B young. By the time one is "of a certain age," one is too tired to be edgy. Although, I will admit that hot flashes & sleep deprivation due to night sweats give one's attitude a certain "je-ne-sais-quoi." Perhaps you'll recherche your attitude when you hit menopause.

      Something to look forward to...perhaps.

    14. Oh, wow! I so love vintage! The poem is great but I just can't help but notice how you present your stuff here. So artistic, you are! Keep it up! :)

    15. Thanks, ya'll! I don't know about the menopause thing, Kathy. You know I'm entirely too young.

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