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Kudos to the winners of the
Ode to Olympians contest honoring Hephaestus, the God of the Forge! David Whippman
won in the adult category, with his poem “Trade from Achilles” and Tatiana Morand took first place in the under 18 category with
“gossip”.
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The Tapestry of Bronze is a series of novels set in Bronze
Age Greece. There’s no need to read our books to enter the contests,
but if you like mythology, or historical fiction, or simply reading exciting
stories, we think you’ll enjoy them!
You may be interested in visiting other parts of our
website: Our
Books (in English) Bιβλία στα ελληνκα
- Our Books (in Greek) Odes to Olympians Contest Current: Winners of Past Contests: Zeus Hera Poseidon
Demeter Hermes Athena Apollo Artemis
Ares
Aphrodite Maps ( The Stories Behind
the Stories Acknowledgements, Thanks,
Bibliography and Links Buying our
books helps support this and future contests!
A real page-turner . . . a wonderfully
nuanced novel that repays previous knowledge of its subject matter - but
never requires it -- Historical Fiction Review |
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First Place Winner Adult Category David Whippman TRADE FROM ACHILLES * First Place Winner Under 18 Tatiana Morand gossip from the first, you remember falling. no gentle tumble this; collision, sky to sea, soar to still. below the waves, wait for a wiser world; perhaps yours to build? but deflected with their jeers, you are adrift. trial by fire, they whisper, licking traces of ambrosia from your wife’s sugared skin. whispers bind tighter than any web constructed to trap them, caught in cages of their own gossamer lies. they laugh instead. who are you to dictate? to plead, to sob perhaps. you’re only the blacksmith. worse, those blackest of all curses: ugly. undesirable. unequal to her beauty. you can make anything, but you can’t make her love you. you can fix anything, but not your broken heart. cracking rust trembles between your fingers, your eyes bleed, and still, you serve.
Honorable
Mentions – Adult Category DREAMS OF HEPHAESTUS Alyssa Erickson It used to be
I dreamt only of water, not the fat sizzling drops drying mid-dance on the
white of a blade, or the dense hovering particles forming hot spectres in the air, but water that lifted me up from
below, morphing my twisted root of a leg in to a painless limb of driftwood. But those
dream waters brought me back around to my mother's face, to the view I had as
my soft baby back slapped the water and I stretched my tiny transluscent nails upward. My mother never noticed
my oyster-smooth infant nails, the milk-white of my newborn thighs. She
never saw past my red, raw, shrieking face, unlike her own. For awhile, I willed away my dreams with fire. Women
who had turned, offering me only the shell-curve of their moving ears, the
creamy creases of their turning throats, now stilled themselves beneath my
weight. Men bought my compulsions as weapons. Lately, my
dreams have returned. They are not of water. I am in command of an army of
metal legs. I leave them behind as they march in formation, and I limp alone
through a low, dark, worm-smelling tunnel. My mother turns slowly toward me
from a wall of packed earth. Her skin is the skin of an apricot, her eyes are
almonds, no longer hard. The bracelets I have made for her are manacles. * Crossing the
Everglades Sara Shea Crossing the
Everglades in starlight and briny air,
Jupiter rising. Swamp trees snapping
gator teeth. Candelabrum of
mangrove, brake
lights::: rubies illuminating a dark snarl
of scrub oak, scratch pine, spice bush, shadows of anhingas winging. Far at sea,
tongues of flame flick with a hunger
for fire- Oil wells
burning. Beyond heat
lightning, tidal sweep, Seminole bones
in quicksand and saw grass, salty exhaust,
thunder, rumble strips, sun softened
causeway tar- Miami glows
with a halo. A meteor falls into the Gulf
of Mexico; Vulcan flung
from heaven. * Patricia Flint In my shoulders
I carry the chimera of champions;
their glory ensconced in my anvil and I
patiently extract it with gentle blows;
victory is a shy beast but not as shy
as beauty; which has flown and
hidden herself from my shame: she suffered it
as I shuffled through forge fires and korl refuse. So I lift my arm one-two the
wheezing bellows breathe dragon fire as
my hammer comes down like triumph
canvassing the heads of heroes but
I cannot pound out my loneliness in
pig iron. A net trapped them but didn’t
keep her when you love some- thing you must
set it free; is that why they cast me
down from my heavenly mountain? I am
suspended, my lameness weighing me down
earthwards, whilst my ore talents keep
me afloat; I am heavy with the dust
of steel and light-headed with violence Only I am the
only one to return from whence I am
cast; the wayward son of anvil
and black; limping home to the
lonely life I have known * Love Forged Alice Keys Hera cringes from her deformed son she cannot stomach the ugliness that mewled forth from her womb a cruel twisted joke begat of sibling parents don’t limp around me and tarnish my gleam don’t spill wine on my gown stains on my beautiful gown flings son down from her Olympian perch sea nymphs love what mother rejects Hephaestus grows from bent Godling to smelt enchanting pearl jewelry and hammer armor at his volcanic forge his goddess mother loves glitter asks nymph who made her pearl necklace mystical shimmer like my radiant self he shall forge gleaming gold for me golden throne sent from son under sea Hera’s chair clamps tighter hotter no escape for vain loveless mother made for love by your thrown-away son ha ransom paid by Zeus to free his wife Aphrodite is served up on a half shell Hephaestus craves beauty she cringes soot finger smudges on her pale skin on Zeus' orders Hephaestus shapes clay Pandora revenge aimed at Prometheus misfires leaves nothing but slim Hope behind to comfort man * The Blacksmith Sylvia Telfer No longer a
Scottish Borders mill town and the
smithy’s gone, that master of fire, but his forge
is yet here and bakers recall him by their ovens
and the local tweed barons still toss at nights
for the smithy’s old stone floor, an extinct
volcano’s rim, yet reeks of fire and molten
metal. Feared in wool
mills, in lush August grain, Vulcan, yours
is a weird bond with us, for in snow by
hearths, your praises flow. In Glasgow,
your tempestuous spirit’s tong-glow in kaput shipyards
where welders’ tools are cold. Lava spews
with grain gifts are odd bedfellows. Was your dual
trait created in that early forsaking by Juno? From
youthful play with dolphins, pearls as toys,
strangely sprang a water-loving Fire God, a fisherman’s embers
the catalyst for your smithy. Later, some
Gods mocked you, a soot-smeared, limping God
with bellows that molded foolish Pandora to
fist us for fire theft. You’re patron
saint of steel-making Sheffield, and an iron statue
of you stares in Birmingham, Alabama, at tarmac and
whizzing cars. The world forever alters its mode but
not you. I see you most clearly in your forge under Vulcano, still making Jupiter thunderbolts and Mars
weapons; a willful, individual God.
Old Forger Drake Huckstep Red fire and murkish glow, * Olympian Underdog Starr Herr Lame bundle in
cloth, hot with envy, hot
with spite, hot with the
yearning of coolness only a
mother’s hands can bring, but only
knowing wind whips during free fall. Lemnos, Lemnos, Lemnos! Open arms for
this bastard child, conceived in
the manless womb of Hera,
goddess who claimed all children other than he.
Crippled child-- know bowels
of volcanoes seethe under throne
rooms, betrayal, treachery. The Love
Goddess will not shackle her wrists; women were
never friends to thee. Yet with
battle the Athenians
cried, “Lend thy fire. Lend thy
metals, thy tongs. Lend thy
blazing flames dormant beneath the
callouses of sweating palms.” Hammer what is
dull, throbbing with heat, before it
transforms to blade. Forget
Olympian seats, they are
taciturn. Become the
condoner of defense, revenge, war. * Different beginnings Rachel Martin You were born out of the blue swirling white, Seaweed hair gathered on your shoulders, Mother pearl eyes, sitting straight and tall, With a sea silk cloth draped over you, Loved by all, scorned by no one. I was born out of the harsh flames, yellow, Of my own mothers heated jealously, Melted face with smouldering
eyes, Blistered skin, loosely folded over my body, Loved by no one, scorned by all, Except you, You were carried on a crystal shell, silver, With nymphs and dolphins riding with you, Sun shining drying off your seaweed locks, Lying back, listening as even the waves stop, Loved by all, Scorned by no one. I was thrown in a violent thunderstorm, black, With devils and mockery plaguing me, Lightning striking, thunder following, Darkness, as my heart gave way, Scorned by all, Loved by no one, Except you I became a master of jewellery,
gold, With commissions and loyalty thrown down
quickly As if that could make up for their lack of
believe Cloaked by stone statues declaring my worth, Admired by all, Scorned by no one Yet you became little more than a dating
service, red, Betraying the customers by offering the
unreachable, Causing war and strife, every step taken by
your sandals, Your hair now green with jealously, your lips
red with blood, Scorned by all, Loved by no one, Except me. * Hephaestus the God of Fire Savannah Howe Hephaestus, god
of the forge and the fire * Hephaestus: An acrostic Danielle Watkins Heroes amongst
men are justly honored and so heroes amongst gods must too be justly honored. Earth knows of
Hephaestus little more than this: After being cast out of Olympus he fell to
Earth Pity betook
Fate so that she allowed him to live and he, broken in body, became master of
the forge He rose from
the ashes and chose to forgive those who had cast him down, he chose to
answer A favor asked
of him by Zeus, a mission, to sculpt Earth’s first woman. Each muscle
bruised was worth it when Hephaestus saw what he had built, the girl, Pandora Soft as the
tips of a dove’s wings, yet made by the roughest amongst beings Treasured
beauty, but forged by the most hideous god, Hephaestus Ugliness gave
birth to beauty and from her Earth was given light along with dark So forever may
Hephaestus stand as a monument amongst gods; True beauty is found
amongst the broken * "The Craftsman" Sarah Thompson The craftsman
works with strong hands Skillfully he
selects his tools He does not
fear the fire The flames bow
at his command The craftsman
works with magic It courses
through his fingertips How easily he enchants
his creations How wonderful
they are He does not
stand He does not
walk He does not
need to The
craftsman's hands are enough
Visit the
winning poems of other Odes to Olympians contests!
Concerned
that you don't know enough about the Olympians to write poems about them? You
can explore these websites:
Parada's Greek Mythology Link: A tremendously
detailed resource Theoi Greek Mythology:
Exploring Classical mythology in Literature and Art Timeless Myths: Greek myths and others as well
Several
have wondered: who are we and why do we do this? What exactly is this “Tapestry of Bronze?” First, our names are Victoria Grossack & Alice
Underwood. We sponsor this contest
because we want to encourage excellence and creativity. We’re using the same method used by the
Greeks back in Classical Athens: competition.
Instead of olive wreaths, we offer money and certificates for
prizes. We especially want to
encourage the under-18 because we want to support educators and students in
our own small way. The idea occurred
to us – most appropriately! – when we were visiting the ruins of ancient
Olympia in Greece. Second, the Tapestry of Bronze is a series of
interlocking novels. They are set in
the Bronze Age of Greece – several generations before the Trojan War. This was known to many as the “Golden Age
of Heroes,” but to us they seem to be made of bronze and not gold. Our series is a tapestry, because the books
tie together, but one book may focus on one character while another focuses
on another. Each book can be enjoyed
separately, or the books can be enjoyed together. As we state above, it is NOT necessary to
purchase or to read our novels in order to enter the contests. However, purchasing the novels helps to
support these contests. Not
sure if you’ll like the books? Then
electronically download a sample at Amazon.
Clicking on the covers below will take you to that company’s website. |
The Newest
Offering!
The Niobe
trilogy: Very Strongly Recommended
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