Myths– By Ironius Satirius
I often thought I was cool in my hoodies and my beanies
I’d bore my friends to death quoting Plato and Diogenes
Put on a production worthy, I’m Broadway in Athens, a hero
I make a spectacle, I need spectacles to look beyond my ego
I scribble, I’m a scribe, fuck off Simpson, I’m not Homer
My pen mightier than all the swords in your armory, a dangerous loner
I’m ordained by the prophecy, Caesar’s word salad, a perfect Roman
How could you not witness my rise? I walked through the flames, I was chosen!
So...
This little ditty is about Helen of Troy
With her horses and her knights, how she sapped away my joy
I sit here, eagle droppings on my chiton, on a Spartan park bench
I shall show you all! I’m epic in my quest for revenge
What hides behind the facade of a pretty girl?
Who did little petty things that would make your hair curl
Claws, and fangs, kitty cat energy, keeping the red flags furled
You’d be trying to warm her,
standing in the fire,
not knowing you’re burnt
I’m morally bankrupt, so don’t look for any morals
I’ll bark till my voice is harsher than a mangy old mongrel
I took a dip in the bathhouse, and I threw in the towel
Because she stole my purple tunic, and my favourite wreath laurel
How dare you? You multi faced hydra, you retold the whole saga!
You harpy, you tore my favourite golden toga!
Woe is me! I’m sitting here all morose
Holding a rose, that’s all that’s left in the divorce!
Now she’d try to convince you of her purity
And say her fights didn’t come from insecurity
And I blind myself in her divine light
And fight against the majority
I’ve lost my hair, I’ve coloured them red, is this a curse or a blessing?
I was an ignorant fool, Athena, a moron in school, a stranger to lessons
So now, dear spectator, share in my journey and pain
As I talk to myself about how I go against the grain
Try to stop me as I self aggrandise ad nauseam
You’re a captive audience in my very own Coliseum
I shall distill all my perverse animosity
Into my own Atlantis, unmatched in grandiosity
I shall take all these words, and make myself special
Slap you in the face with Eurystheus’s
vessel
“Oh, by Jupiter, how magnanimous
Aren’t you quite the protagonist?”
You are Perseus, holding a mirror to Medusa’s gaze
You’re Theseus with a string, a shadow figure in a maze
You’re Jason with one sandal, you’re Odysseus with his scandals
You’re Achilleus in sandals, setting the field ablaze
You’re Remus and Romulus, two wolves in an empire
You crave music in her touch, like Orpheus with his lyre
You’re Bellerophon, riding a winged horse in your dreams
You’re Hercules in his memories, taunted by the screams
You worship at the altar of Zeus, you strike like lightning in the night
You embody Poseidon’s storms, and cause shipwrecks, thinking you’re right
You’re Hades, you believe damnation might be salvation
You’re Kronos in your unsated hunger, you believe time is the solution.
Maybe you believe you can save Narcissus from the lake
You hold the thread of thought like a shield, hoping to snip the strings of Fate
But maybe the Lethe took away your remembrance of your own Furies
Maybe you think you’re righteous like Minos, bound by your own duties
Maybe you think the Phlegeton of your trials will leave you untouchable
When all it did, my dear Apollo, is make your music inscrutable
You demigod, you follow Artemis into the Hunt
You monster, you drove Helios’s chariot into the sun
Oh Dante, you say you walked through the circles of Hell
You’re Sciron, self proclaimed scion, a turtle with its shell
You’re Ares, going to war over a custody battle
You opened Pandora’s box, and what you saw left you rattled
You defied Gaea herself, but maybe you should return to earth?
You worship Demeter, and that’s why you try to dig up the dirt?
Saying you ate the forbidden fruit, oh please, Persephone
Thinking you’re a Muse, but you’re the only admirer of your symphony
You paint yourself as the victim in your myths
Thinking you’re immortal with your foray into the Styx
You now float above it all, you detach, on your Nimbus
You built the road to purgatory with good intentions, and told yourself its Olympus
I built enough temples, and for you now, I have to break four walls
You want me to wink at you too? I can barely speak with my sore jaw!
And even better, you silly goose, our battle will rage for months!
You shall deliver platitudes and I shall attack with puns!
Still, I shall paint the pages of public discourse and I have no trepidation
My ambassadors go far and wide, I shall skewer your reputation!
I would be remiss if I said it didn’t give me pleasure
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure
And while I would greatly enjoy the erasure of you
I hope you find someone who treasures you
And if it’s pretentiousness you’re looking for here, surely you’ll find no scarcity
Who else is that good at making heartbreak feel like university?
Certainly, it’s a despicable act of perfidy
You tell the tale of simplicity as a myth of great adversity
Thus in Hephaestus’s forge, with fire and scorn
I build my Parthenon and I stand reborn!
An author, a protagonist and the audience explore the peaks and valleys of self mythologising, delusion, deception, and romanticising pain on public platforms.
Liked or faved by...
