HERA'S CHILDREN (A mythological one-act play)
Posted by Mark R. Prime anti-war plays, peace plays on Oct 20, 2007
Lights rise on ATHENA (The Virgin), her flesh covered in ivory, her drapery and armor in solid gold. Soon HERA, the Queen of the gods, wearing the polos crown enters. In her hand she holds a pomegranate; the emblem of fertile blood and death (and a substitute for the narcotic capsule of the opium poppy). As she ascends the steps of the Parthenon, ATHENA addresses her.
Open the play [+/-]
Discovery
Posted by Mark R. Prime people on Oct 7, 2007
For whose worship do the lips of flowers find their ashen prayer and whose truth does the mouth of history open, whose song do they warble, the captor or the conquered, for whose favor do they tremble?
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
Wordless (A tale of Myanmar, Amerotica)
Posted by Mark R. Prime amerotica on Oct 1, 2007
She moved rapidly over the ground, alongside the Salween trench where hell dogs slathered their steel lips in conquest; beasts collecting the night’s wordless skies.
She fell hard upon the scorched ground, her slender legs slapping the stony loam. I cradled her wet face against my chest to gentle her howling heart. She smiled and stroked my face, then her mouth leapt upon mine and our hands curved into flames as we pushed deep into the brush.
Wordless, we spoke of our hopes and fears; the beasts hard upon our backs, the children and their mother’s shriek, the lifeless weeping stirred by the heartless.
The sick and the dying were with us, between our moving lips and fingers, upon our union of sweat and flesh underneath the forlorn heavens. And within our merger of silence we knew, at long last, there was no more need to run.
HERA: And to you, Athena.
ATHENA: By your countenance it would seem less so…
HERA: This daybreak I’ve heard a disturbing query.
ATHENA: Might I answer?
HERA: You might, were you not a virgin.
ATHENA: Ha! You know that’s a myth, dearest Hera. There are Romans and Greeks whose foreheads have sprung tales of-
HERA: Yes! I know, but you should hush, your father might hear you.
ATHENA: You think I care about what Zeus hears, your husband and brother? I’ve given him bigger headaches at my birth than may leap from this!
HERA: Yes. That you have, dear Athena. That you have.
ATHENA: I’m sorry, Hera.
HERA: No, Athena. You should not be sorry. It’s ironic, but you’re his favorite, you know?
ATHENA: Curse'd paradox!
HERA: My tongue still hangs upon the stars …Your father’s a merciless husband! Vindictive, filled with pride, wrathful. The line that separates the mortal man from Zeus' traits is rather thin.
(Long pause.)
ATHENA: Your question, dearest Hera?
HERA: Yes.
ATHENA: Ask it of me and I’ll thunder it back, perhaps lighting your way.
HERA: Perhaps.
ATHENA: I promise I shall not attempt an answer. I’ll merely be your pawn.
HERA: A puppet you’ve never been, Athena, a thundering headache, yes, but never someone's marionette. (Beat.) Very well… If you had to choose, Athena, which of your children would you leave unprotected?
(This stuns ATHENA.)
ATHENA: Unprotected? What a question! Which of our divine asked you such a thing? Eros? Hades?
HERA: A mortal.
ATHENA: A mortal?
HERA: Zeus’ counterfeit king.
ATHENA: That scoundrel!
HERA: In that he is, yet not counterfeit.
ATHENA: Ha!
HERA: It was not asked of me, but of the mothers below.
ATHENA: Zeus put the fool up to this, didn’t he?
HERA: I’m afraid so. Yes.
ATHENA: Did you turn this mortal into road kill?
HERA: No. That would have been an improvement.
ATHENA: Ha! What became of him then?
HERA: I left him as he is. There’s more suffering in it.
ATHENA: Not much mythological appeal, but it is the mother of all punishments. O! What fools these mortals be!
HERA: And their foolish gods.
ATHENA: So, which one of your children would you choose to leave unprotected, Hera?
HERA: (Spoken mockingly.) I'd choose the one that's gay. (Natural pause.) No. The retarded one. (Impeded pause.) The child with A.D.D. (Quick pause.) No. I'd choose the one with A.D.H.D. (Quickly.) The blind child. The fattest! The deaf. (Silence.) The one with the heart condition. (Beat.) No. The one with Leukemia. (Lifeless pause.) The child with the darkest skin. The one that was a mistake! Or the youngest. (Slow turn.) Or the oldest... They've lived a bit more? NO! NO! OF COURSE NONE OF THESE WILL DO! NONE! I would sacrifice the one that's most like me; my voice, my ears, my eyes, my hands, my nose, my mind, my blood, my love. I’d choose the one that is the devil's spawn! The one that cries out when I'm sleeping! The one that screams when I'm busy! The one that pesters me when I'm thinking! The one that raped me!
ATHENA: O! The gods and their lovelessness!
HERA: I shall sacrifice your father, my husband and brother! I may end up being hung from the stars again, but his bloody reign must end!
ATHENA: Now that has some mythological appeal! For this I’ll hang right along with you!
(ATHENA summons a thunderbolt that crashes across the mortal sky. Black out.)
Copyright © 2007 mrp / thepoetryman