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Tagamemnon - Blog Posts
I have been running to you since my first steps I have been kissing you since my first kiss My Ithaca
On being gay (a poem I regret writing for class)
I am afraid someone will know. I am afraid they will smell the rotten thing in my mouth, on my hands, between my legs.
I'd like to proclaim this rotting growth is dying under bigotry and insults. But I grew around hatred, leaving a hollow shape that looks like kids carrying signs they can't read, holidays for mass I get dirty looks at, "sodomite" the worst thing to be called. My parched broken pieces embrace all too eagerly the sweet poison that smells like cow shit and magnolia.
"What have you done to my little girl", the sentence hovers, unsaid, the knife that is yet to be thrown, that already left a hole in my stomach. "What have you done to my little girl," dad, I'm going back to Ithaca.
Beyond the sea are the best part of me, the haircuts head in the bathtub that stinks of cheap dye and the tattoos I wanted when I was eleven. Behind the sea it's New York in 86.
It's unfurnished apartments, empty cupboards. It's glitter and luxury just a five fingers discount away, envy like ice cube in the spine, anger towards all the honest people who don't convert prices into week-worth-of-groceries. It's sewing in a makeshift workshop when you don't know how to sew, under the careful guidance of a makeshift mother. It's the teeth, the biting, the original sin behind the masks of decency. It's ambition, desperate, relentless, bloody.
I see it, my Ithaca, on a stage in Marseille, and in Arial 12, black and white, on a flimsy piece of paper ; someone saw a man love someone like me and thought,
"This love needs glitter, warm lights and electric guitars."
This poem deserves a steady voice, precise gestures and a perfect mastery that gives an air of clumsiness. It is so sincere, so raw, that tenderness, it needs a ballet of smokes and lights.
Jean Genet loved Abdallah Bentaga and it's like a broken raft in my odyssey. Because I too am a painted creature obsessed with my own spectacle, and when Jean loves Abdallah, it's like he loved me too.
Even if we need makeup to conquer the unthinkable, the grotesque of what we are. Even if our Venus got murdered on a moldy mattress in a cheap motel ; on stage, in front of a full audience, an old man almost touches an adonis. Even if a man lays with a man the way one lays with a woman, they both did something terrible. Even if we are out too late at night, we go home bruised or we don't go home ; on stage, in front of a full audience, an old man almost touches an adonis.
But maybe we are wrong and they are right to try to save us. Maybe God is real and he hates me. Maybe there is something profoundly treacherous and vile inside of me. Maybe I will have regrets and admit that Oh wasn't Troy that much better? Wasn't there in this time of bloodshed, some kind of comfort? Oh the honors, oh the glory!
But there is Philippe Torreton, at night, in the theater, under warm lights and glitter showers. And holy shit how hot are we, we the faggots, when we love each other on stage. How fabulous for a man to love an artist, how tender, for a man to love a boy trying to kill himself.
I recognized Ithaca when I picked my name. I disown her every time I introduce myself.
"Antharès? Where is that from? Is it greek?"
I answer well actually ehm basically it's it's a star in ehm a constellation and ehm well it shines brighter than the others.
Anthares, it's Trans, actually. Just like Noah, Aiden, Eliott, Alex, Sacha, Ariadne and Jasmine. To the mean laughter waiting to happen, that's the answer. It's trans, and when I picked it it was meant to be obvious. To tell the whole world, fuck the tides, fuck election day, fuck the groundswells, I'm going back to Ithaca.
Not as Captain, but as a half baked writer not old enough to be a fuck up yet, in all the the stain of my obsessive perfectionism, my obsessive ambition, my obsessive pessimism. In all the forbiddance of what happens in my bedroom.
I count the coins of my entertainer's allowance that I put in kraft envelopes for the black priest that will mutilate the divine feminine off of my body. And all of Ithaca's ghosts count with me. They smell of dirty streets and hospitals, they are made of glitter and seafoam. If they send me to hell I'll suck Lucifer's dick like it's the body of Christ and I'll know if angels are circumcised.
Michelangelo saw David in a marble cube, and he saw me too like I was always there. I sculpt the curve of my shoulders with a needle, the flat of my chest with a kitchen knife. I learn my voice and how I smell. I learn with the sweet words of the poets how you say sweet words to a man when you are a man. From boys I learn to be a boy, how to behave and what to say ; what is a man on stage on what do I need to do to be applauded.
I make myself with powders and push ups and birthday presents a body Argos will recognize. I was always there, like the flour before the bread, like the grapes before the wine, like the mud before the home. I am Pygmalion. I am Galatea. My hands are the divine creation. I am going back to Ithaca.
I have been running to you since my first step
I have been kissing you since my first kiss
My Ithaca
My favorite headcanon about gods and the mortals is that gods never understand how fragile humans are and don't understand how deep god's touches go through mortal's skin. (or simply don't care)
Athena will make Diomedes's grip on his spear stronger pushing his fingers tighter and almost breaking his bones. She fixes his position making his stance perfect, but human's body was never able to get into position this perfect so his muscles will be tearing and his bones will be cracking just to be instantly healed. When Athena removes her hands, his body will be covered in bruises.
Odysseus will always feel burning and at the same time freezing gaze on his back while Athena watches him across the battlefield. His ears will be filled with her breath and whisper, that will ring in his head long after she ended speaking. She will help him shot an arrow, and he will feel his joints moving in the way they were never supposed to move.
When Apollo turns all the spears and arrows away from the Hector he will still feel them digging into his flash. Apollo will raise him from the dust again and again, and Hector won't be able to stand without hearing god's voice in his ears and feeling god's burning touch on his shoulders. He closes his eyes and still sees the light.
Helen will stand tall to speak up to Paris, and Aphrodite will place her hands on Helen's shoulders to remind her of goddess's presence and this flaming grip will weight as heavy as ten years of war. Aphrodite will wash Helen's face so her skin will shine brighter and eyes will haunt every man in the room, and the only thing Helen feels is her skin freezing from the coldness of Aphrodite's hands.
And those touches won't end with battle or even with war. Every time Diomedes fights he will feel his body taking the exact position Athena once made him in, his limbs will come into shape they were never meant to be in, without deforming cause Athena already fixed them, once she already designed him according to her vision. Every time Odysseus lies his words will echo in his head just like Athena's words did before, every time he uses a bow, arrow in his hands will feel like a burning torch or like an ice, and his joints and tendons will sing in a perfect copy of the song Athena made them perform inside his body on the battlefield. Every time Helen will square her shoulders to feel herself more confident she will feel burning touch on her chin pushing it up and freezing breath in her hair. She will look at her husband and shadow of tight grip on her shoulders will become shadow of sharp nails digging into her skin, holding her in place.
Even dying at Achilles's hands and falling to the ground Hector would still hear an order in his head telling him to get up and fight, his own blood running down a neck will feel like Apollo's hands forcing him back to his feet.
No mortal ever forgets a god's touch.
The Three Giant Lords
When the Gigantes attacked the Mountain of the Gods, many imagined it to be a mindless attack, instigated by barbarians, but it was far from such a thing. The assault was led by three brothers, mirrors of the Three Kings, each armed with enough power to turn the lands of said kings upsidedown.
Porphyrion: The Ruin of Zeus, the Dark Thunderer, King of the Giants, he has gone by many titles, many of which are deserved, yet over the centuries his resolve has faded. He's been betrayed, abandoned, and has been without a champion for years. This has rendered his soul as a spirit forced to wander the mortal world, after all he can't enter the underworld after Hades' put a curse on the Gigantes. Although he has found some solace with the few beings that can see and commincate with him.
He, like many of the giants is considered Zeus' opposite and equal. The power he wields, which many call Dark Lightning is some sort of electrokinetic energy that can withstand, absorb and redirect lightning. There are other possible powers, every champion has a different style.
He was a better king and father than Zeus could ever be, and that made the thunderdick pissed. They HATE each other but for different reasons.
Weapon: Gauntlets that can channel and control Dark Lightning (think Atlas gauntlets combined with Titanstone Knuckles)
Polybotes: Poseidon's Boiler, The Storm Burner, Lord of the Earth's blood. He was one of few beings who could stand in the way of Poseidon's temper tantrums, although he is not as strong as he used to be. The battle between Polybotes and Poseidon shook the oceans, and the rage the giant unleashed on the god of the seas has left burns that have never healed, but eventually Poseidon was able to trap Polybotes' underneath the ocean floor in the deepest part of the sea. Though his body was destroyed his esscence lived on in in the undersea volcanoes, and the champions he choose often have personnal grudges against Poseidon, including a certain king who the sea god hates with a passion.
While most of his abilities center around heat; such as the abilites of lava control, and to create fires so hot they burn even underwater, he is also able to control water and storms too. Such powers seem to act as neutralizer's to Poseidon powers, after all the god of the seas is someone who depends on unleashing devastating attacks on his enemies.
Where Poseidon was seen as a god whose emotions controlled his judgement, Polybotes was often seen as stern and collected, like an unbreaking undersea mountain, but when he allows his emotions to be free, you will know.
Weapon: A pitch-black trident made from Phelegethon Steel, metal that is infused with the power of the river of fire. Hot to the touch, only Polybotes and his chosen can wield it.
Alcyoneus: Bane of Hades, He who gives way for the fallen, The First Necromancer. The youngest of the three giant brothers, Alcyoneus is a shinging light to many beings, and many see him as the greatest of the giants, which unfortunatly has gone to his head.... frequently. He was a frequent believer in "death is not the end" concept, often raising ghosts and spirits from the underworld and removing their restrictions to certain realms, much to the dismay of Hades. Before his body was destroyed, he was the one who managed to cast a spell that allowed the other Gigantes to live on as spirits in the mortal world, the ability of choosing champions abilities is another story. He and his champions are seen as those who can bring light to the darkest of places.
Alcyoneus is often considered the Bane of Hades, this may be for a number of reasons:
1. He has a habit of raising the bodies and spirits of the dead from the Underworld.
2. He can access the Underworld without using the gates (Like Hades, Persephone, and Thanatos)
3. He essentially can't die, he can survive fatal injuries like they're nothing, (although he remains a spirit after the Gigantomachy) and
4. Darkness powers and magic of the night have almost no affect on him, he can also create light so powerful the could drive even the strongest children of Erebus away.
Compared to his brothers, he is seen as more of a carefree trickster and troublemaker, probaly since his goals center around "liberating" souls from the underworld. Although he is often seen as an optomistic and suprisingly happy, even if it's often morbid.
Weapon: Staff made from some ancient material, and engraved with symbols from the Golden Age
(This is from a story I'm working on, it's basically Avatar, and other YA animated series combined with Percy Jackson, which is also where I got alot of the inspirations for the Giants and their abilities. The story is basically after the giants were killed in Gigantomachy their spirits lingered on in the mortal world and over the centuries they have chosen champions in the hopes of bringing the gods down. If anyone wants to add these aspects to any greek mythology media, go ahead.)
Reblog for sexy ink Caligula
GTHD GLMSS
GRTHM SRFC TES MVSFCLL
My Epic the Musical obsession has been violently reawakened after the Vengeance Saga, and I felt the need to make this:
"John Wick brutally murdered everyone who broke into his home and killed his pet, and everyone in the audience cheers him on. But when I, Polyphemus, do the same, I am called a 'monster who killed a beloved character'. What a double standard!"
Was scrolling through your page and saw the “Odysseus was kidnapped by Paris instead of Helen” art with Penelope. So I’m asking if you could draw Odysseus and Paris interacting pls? 👉👈
Let's just say that in this version everyone is mad at Paris, because he kidnapped a person he shouldn't have kidnapped and furthermore he didn't keep his agreements with Aphrodite so there's that too... Just because he wanted someone like Odysseus on his side and instead of thinking with the mind preferred to follow the heart.
It's a really short interaction but damn this was really fun to make. Athena, Ares and Poseidon joining forces to help Penelope is still such a funny concept to me.
( I might have used some quotes... From Paris the musical...)
@attyhat 's Paris design
Warm up sketch with Odydiolaus 😌
i want to see an adaptation of the iliad that accurately portrays achilles’ grief over the death of patroclus.
i don’t want to see achilles act out in anger and violence as he realizes that patroclus died in his armor.
i don’t want to see achilles remain stoic and emotionless as he carries patroclus’ body back to camp.
show me achilles collapse to the ground when he hears the news. show me achilles sob so loudly that his mother on the bottom of the sea hears him and thinks him dead. show me how another warrior must hold down achilles’ hands so that he does not cut open his own throat to join patroclus in death.
show me achilles carrying back patroclus’ body and sobbing into his chest. show me achilles refusing to leave patroclus’ side to eat or sleep because he can do nothing but cry. show me how achilles looks his mother in the eye and say how he no longer cares if he dies when only a few days prior he said that nothing is worth his life.
i want to see achilles, the most powerful warrior of the greeks, to be completely undone by grief.
“Why have you come to me here, dear heart, with all these instructions? I promise you I will do everything just as you ask. But come closer. Let us give in to grief, however briefly, in each other’s arms.” - Homer
read thru diomedes' wiki page today and these two are so funny to me
tbh my favourite quality about Odysseus towards the end of the Odyssey is that he'll swear to be honest and immediately spit out two pages of nothing but lies about who he is and where he comes from and whose son he is and how he's suffered terribly to get where he is now
compare that to him giving polyphemus his full name, his postal address, his social security number, and his birth certificate in earlier chapters
that's what we call ✨personal growth✨
in middle school during my Intense Greek Mythology Phase, Artemis was, as you can likely guess, my best girl. Iphigenia was my OTHER best girl. Yes at the same time.
The story of Iphigenia always gets to me when it's not presented as a story of Artemis being capricious and having arbitrary rules about where you can and can't hunt, but instead, making a point about war.
Artemis was, among other things--patron of hunting, wild places, the moon, singlehood--the protector of young girls. That's a really important aspect she was worshipped as: she protected girls and young women. But she was the one who demanded Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter in order for his fleet to be able to sail on for Troy.
There's no contradiction, though, when it's framed as, Artemis making Agamemnon face what he’s doing to the women and children of Troy. His children are not in danger. His son will not be thrown off the ramparts, his daughters will not be taken captive as sex slaves and dragged off to foreign lands, his wife will not have to watch her husband and brothers and children killed. Yet this is what he’s sailing off to Troy to inevitably do. That’s what happens in war. He’s going to go kill other people’s daughters; can he stand to do that to his own? As long as the answer is no—he can kill other people’s children, but not his own—he can’t sail off to war.
Which casts Artemis is a fascinating light, compared to the other gods of the Trojan War. The Trojan War is really a squabble of pride and insults within the Olympian family; Eris decided to cause problems on purpose, leaving Aphrodite smug and Hera and Athena snubbed, and all of this was kinda Zeus’s fault in the first place for not being able to keep it in his pants. And out of this fight mortal men were their game pieces and mortal cities their prizes in restoring their pride. And if hundreds of people die and hundred more lives are ruined, well, that’s what happens when gods fight. Mortals pay the price for gods’ whims and the gods move on in time and the mortals don’t and that’s how it is.
And women especially—Zeus wanted Leda, so he took her. Paris wanted Helen, so he took her. There’s a reason “the Trojan women” even since ancient times were the emblems of victims of a war they never wanted, never asked for, and never had a say in choosing, but was brought down on their heads anyway.
Artemis, in the way of gods, is still acting through human proxies. But it seems notable to me to cast her as the one god to look at the destruction the war is about to wreak on people, and challenge Agamemnon: are you ready to kill innocents? Kill children? Destroy families, leave grieving wives and mothers? Are you? Prove it.
It reminds me of that idea about nuclear codes, the concept of implanting the key in the heart of one of the Oval Office staffers who holds the briefcase, so the president would have to stab a man with a knife to get the key to launch the nukes. “That’s horrible!,” it’s said the response was. “If he had to do that, he might never press the button!” And it’s interesting to see Artemis offering Agamemnon the same choice. You want to burn Troy? Kill your own daughter first. Show me you understand what it means that you’re about to do.
Kind of feeling like a 2 or 3
Which Achilles are you today?
So I was trying to explain the events of the Iliad to my dad and I was at the part where Achilles ragequits and goes to sulk in his tent with Patroclus and my dad literally went,
“Wow they seem like such good friends!”
Like what are you dad, a historian?
new message in the suitors groupchat
In the span of only 2 songs we are truly reminded that Penelope is born and raised Spartan and I absolutely LOVE IT.
Like her husband who she has seen in 20 years shows up and commits war crimes that would likely violate the Geneva Convention, and she's just like "Ok... And?" LIKE OMG
Penelope is the mother of mothers and i absolutely adore her.
Hermione of Sparta holding the vase of her husband!!! It took me all day to draw but I'm really happy with how it looks!!!