A Repeat for Myth Lovers: The Second Lamentation of Demeter by Mary Kendall ~ (Poetry and Myth)

As a follow up to my last blog, I’m reblogging this second lamentation that dates back to November 4, 2014.

Which classic myth would YOU choose to write a poem about? What grabs your mind and heart both?

 

The Second Lamentation of Demeter

 

 

Narcissus, 1912 by John William Waterhouse

Narcissus, 1912 by John William Waterhouse

 

Persephone’s abduction by Hades is swift, violent and over so quickly that no one hears her scream except for Hecate, a goddess who helps Demeter find out where she has gone. Could there be anything worse for a mother than to lose a child? Demeter’s grief is profound. This is the Second Lamentation of Demeter.

 

The Rape of Proserpine, Hans Von Aachen, 1587

The Abduction of Persephone, Hans Von Aachen, 1587

 

To hear me read this poem, please click on the link below and wait a few seconds for it to begin.

 

 

 

The Second Lamentation of Demeter

 

The earth groaned, then opened briefly.
That’s all it took.

He appeared out of nowhere
Like a wild flume of fire,

The flickering golden chariot with
Four black stallions at full gallop.

He sprang upon her so quickly
That when the earth closed back

Upon itself like a wound healed over,
All that was left was a circlet of flowers

That she and the daughters of Oceanus
Had been stringing together. Irises, roses,

Violets, hyacinths, and the faded blossoms
Of sweet narcissus plucked by her hand.

The scar in the earth and grasses torn apart
Were all that told the story.

I always knew he watched her…
I sensed when he was around.

Clouds gathered overhead,
Shadows clothing him in darkness,

Hades,
To whom sunlight is a stranger.

My sweet Persephone is gone now,
Gone with him.

O, horror…
My sweet child is his.

 

circlet of flowers 2

 

 

Persephone’s abduction is well represented in art. It is my personal opinion that one need look no further than the magnificent sculpture done by Bernini in 1622. The details of the hands and arms as well as the force and resistance between their two bodies is powerful. Persephone’s tear stained cheek tells us more than any words can.

 

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, The Rape of Proserpina, 1622, Galleria Borghese in Rome

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, The Abduction of Persephone, 1622, Galleria Borghese in Rome

 

 

(detail)

(detail)

 

(detail)

(detail)

Some Thoughts on Turning to Myth: Looking back at “The First Lamentation of Demeter ~ (Poetry and Myth)”

A Note to My Readers:

Here it is January 2026. My blog has been quiet this year for a number of reasons too long to list.  But the most obvious reason is that of a block or mental ‘resistance’ to writing. Last year in 2024,  I turned to sharing a few older poems of mine that I love. It was a good reminder to me of why I loved writing.

Today, WordPress showed me my latest stats. I rarely look at these anymore, but one thing I notice each time I see an update is that some of the poems I wrote relating to classical myths seem to be accessed the most. I wonder if, in this sad and tumultuous world and country (mine being the USA), we turn to mythology to find answers to timeless questions that appear and reappear over a lifetime. Who are we and why are we here? What is it we are looking for? What really matters? I am now 79.  Those questions and many more have come up time and time again, and the answers have been quite varied over eight decades. What do you, dear reader, think? Why do we cling to myths and tales from long ago and from cultures we know only though history books, literature or art? I’d love to know what you think.

To honor some of these poems, I’m going to post my two Lamentations of Demeter, one at a time. To save some work, I’ll post the whole original poet from my blog. I hope you find some meaning in each of them or perhaps a way to think of something beyond our wild world of today.

 

 British Museum GR 1885.3-16.1 (Terracotta C 529), AN34724001

British Museum GR 1885.3-16.1 (Terracotta C 529), AN34724001

 

Here is the original 2014 posting:

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I’ve been looking over my writing notebooks written a while back but unread by anyone other than myself or my husband. The myths of Demeter and her daughter, Persephone, fascinate many including me. For a number of reasons these myths seem to appeal especially to women. Many of the great living women poets have written brilliant poems about Persephone (e.g., Louise Glück and Eavan Boland). The story is timeless.

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In today’s poem I’ve written a Lamentation of Demeter. Demeter, the goddess of the harvest and grains, is often referred to as the mother-goddess since she represents fertility on earth. Her importance is indisputable. When she mourns for her missing daughter, Persephone (who has been abducted by Hades and taken down into the underworld by force) the seasons stop. Things stop growing and the earth begins to die before Persephone’s father, Zeus, intervenes.  You know the story, but it is worth re-reading if you haven’t read any mythology for a while.

Demeter statue in front of my gym in Hillsborough, North Carolina

Demeter statue in front of my gym in Hillsborough, North Carolina

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So what is a lamentation? The Oxford English Dictionary defines it simply: “The passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping.” Anyone who has grieved knows instinctively what it is to lament the loss of someone who is dearly loved. The feeling is painful and deep, and I think this resonates within us all. Demeter mourned her daughter’s abduction to a point where the earth nearly perished. This poem begins with her not yet knowing all that has happened. I picture her as a mother desperate to know what has happened to her child.

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This is one of two lamentations of Demeter I’ve written. The second will follow at some point.

Demeter

Demeter

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To listen to an audio recording of me reading this poem, click on the link below and wait a few seconds for it to begin:

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The First Lamentation of Demeter

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How is it that I don’t know where she has gone?

        I warned her.

I told her time and time again not to trust them,
that there were those who so longed for her
they would stop at nothing.

        And who was right?

Like all girls her age, she could be headstrong,
believing her own mother too old
to understand those yearnings.

         I warned her.

Last night I watched the dog star rise up.
Its magnificent beams were like beacons
that might lead me to my lost child.

        Why is it the stars are silent?

O, Sirius, your brilliant rays reach down
to us and yet your silence is puzzling.
Surely you saw where she went, my only child.

        Will no one tell me where my Persephone has gone?

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Grief-Statue

A few poems in Anthologies in 2022

Three of my poems appeared in various poetry anthologies in 2022:

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a brief sigh
as your scan is finished –
far above us
sunlight edges its way
through swift moving clouds

Tanka Society of America 2022 Anthology

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in a pile on the floor
sand, swimsuits, towels
and a single sea star . . .
how did such beauty slip
unseen into my life

Linda Jeanette Ward Anthology 2022
(An anthology in memory of the late tanka poet,
Linda Jeanette Ward.)

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broken ice on the river –
fragmented memories
now rise up

British Haiku Society
Members’ Anthology 2022
Theme: “Water”

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Sky151

Stinging nettles

 

 

 

stinging nettles –
things that were said
I can’t forget

 

 

The Heron’s Nest
Volume XXIV, Number 4: December, 2022

 

 

 

The last plum blossom, etc. (a mix of tanka and haiku)

The lovely New Zealand journal, Kokaku, published two haiku and two tanka in their fall issue: Kokaku #37, 2022.

Kokaku #37,  2022

evening web –
the last plum blossom
caught fast

       ***

corner flower shop –
if only our lives were
arranged so well

       ***

quick twists and turns
of rutting deer ~
another season passes
adrift in colours
of passion and promise

       ***

This tanka appeared on my blog last month but was from this issue (37):

a tiny fawn dead
by the side of the road –
I close my eyes & imagine
all those children lost
in Ukraine strikes

 

       ***

 

Which way? (tanka)

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having made it
halfway across, halfway back
I stop and pause
wondering which way
I really want to go

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Published in Eucalypt 32 Tanka,  May 2022 Issue

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Tight-Rope Walker by Jean Louis Forain, c. 1885, Art Institute of Chicago

This tanka was inspired by a painting of a tightrope walker:
Tight Rope Walker by Jean Louis Forain, The Art Institute of Chicago

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