Tantalus' Lament

My father has sent me to hell
For being what I call

Filanthropikos (charitable)
Evgenis (kind)

He has never felt compassion toward a mortal's inescapable fate

Buried in tempting waters up to the chin,
One droplet would suffice,
But she withdraws at the approach of my parched lips.

A tree bearing luscious fruit
dangles her branches just above my brow,
She offers me a taste but torments me instead.

I beg for their poisons so that I may crumble in their arms,
But they feel ecstasy in the wake of my torment.

Spring 2006

Winter 2006

Autumn 2005

Summer 2005

Spring 2005

Autumn/Winter 2005

Summer 2004

Winter 2004

Summer 2003

Editor's Note


SNR's Writers


About: Face

Beyond the window's spider web cracks
I can see your profile,
the features of your face:


My heart pounding
like watermelons dropped on timpani.

You slowly approach,
The imperfect glass distorting your face:

You're calling my names,
Those little four letter words that burrow into my heart
And metamorphose into moods,

Waiting to feel the moist skin of your hand on my face
I open the door,
You touch me and I fall.
And I will belong to you until
you tell me otherwise

Brooke Hardy is a senior at the University of West Florida in Pensacola. She is majorin gin English and Psychology. She has studied poetry and fiction with Reginald Shepherd. This is her first publication.

Copyright 2006, Brooke Hardy. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws.
It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.