Lilith's revenge - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Lilith the first woman

“Her gates are gates of death,
and from the entrance of the house
she sets out towards Sheol”*

Thursday’s child gallops bareback
from the bleak wastelands of the desert

into Inanna's garden;
she sprinkles verses at her feet and whispers:
"On the seventh day, I will be your only lover."

With her parchments torn and fading

she slithers through the borders
of an eerie galaxy into the world
of a corrupted seraph's dark existence.

Lilith lies naked with lime blooms
until the interloper is destroyed and wrecked
and panting on her knees, Eve pleads 
for an end to such a cold winter.
The clay basil pot is cracked and the road
to her bedroom door lies in ruins.

A foaming myriad of primal satyrs
rip the first bride apart and many more
inside the womb of her twisted mind
pine for the birth of her wayward children.

In his bedroom chamber,
the hapless groom betrayed and seedless
weeps with dreams of Lilith astride an owl
hurtling to The Cities of the Sea.

* Proverbs 2:18–19

Based loosely on early Spanish Kabbalistic mysticism.