Melinoe: The goddess who will overthrow patriarchy

I am Melinoe, daughter of Persephone,

daughter of the ravished goddess,

borne away without consent but

lawfully wedded, raped by her own father

in the guise of her husband.

I am Melinoe, render of the veil.

The man behind the curtain

has always and only been a man.

I will show you this. His power is a sham.

I am showing you this. I am Melinoe,

child of a rapist and his victim.

I am Melinoe, and the lord of the dead

was my true father, a kind and tender parent

unlike the triumphant lord of the sky.

I am Melinoe, and my sisters are these:

The victims of Harvey Weinstein,

the victims of Bill Cosby,

the daughters raped by their fathers,

their brothers, uncles, boyfriends,

the victims of Roman Polanski,

the victims of Woody Allen.

I am Melinoe, and I have brothers, too:

The boys who were told

that men can’t be raped, the men

who were told they were queer,

they must have wanted it.

I am Melinoe, and to all of you I say:

If Zeus the rapist denies you justice

in your mortal life, in death the rapists

will answer to Hades my father, to Hel

my foster-mother, to Loki my friend,

to Persephone my mother, to Antinous

my husband, and to me, motherfuckers,

you will answer at last to me.


On Hiroshima Day: A prayer to Panprosdexia

So many voices have cried out over the centuries
in prayers to be led from darkness into light.
To whom shall we pray for those who died of too much light?
O Helios, forgive us: We attempted to grasp your power
and we created only death, a death too terrible for Hades
or Persephone. To whom shall we pray?
The god of the sun joins atom to atom in life-giving union,
but we built an impure fire by division, by destruction.

O Panprosdexia, to you I pray in the light of Hiroshima.
To you I pray for those who died in that light
and left only shadows burnt on a wall.
To you I pray for those who survived
burnt and maimed, their generations poisoned.
To you I pray for the children of the survivors,
cursed and deformed by the sufferings of their parents.
To you I pray for Tsutomu Yamaguchi,
who survived both Hiroshima and Nagasaki
to speak of them, that we may not forget.

Lead them, Panprosdexia, into a holy darkness.
Into a peaceful and healing darkness let them be led.
Pour your honey on their wounds and wash them clean.
Quench the burning of unholy fires in the weapons of mass destruction.
Lead the peoples of the earth to a place where we may join hands
in the darkness without fear and gather around a blessed fire to feast as kin.