The Chronicles of the Pharaoh's Daughter: Poems of Love, Loss, and Rebirth

The Chronicles of the Pharaoh's Daughter: Poems of Love, Loss, and Rebirth

by Davina Rhine

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The Chronicles of the Pharaoh's Daughter: Poems of Love, Loss, and Rebirth by Davina Rhine

The Chronicles of the Pharaoh's Daughter presents a passionate, ironic, and symbolic collection of poems that blends antiquity, history, memory, reincarnation, wealth, poverty, sex, love, life, birth, and afterlife. Poet Davina Rhine shares a tormented adventure lamenting the loss of her idealized father and recalling the grudging acceptance of a woman's experience in domesticity, mundane work, and child-rearing.

This confessional poet, torn by grief, erotica, responsibility, mature love, and dreams, goes from sinner to forgiver in the course of the collection. Unlike other confessionals, her journey in dreams and everyday life does not end in misery, but in rapture both strong and defiant as she is resurrected. The clashing metaphors of the past and present take us all over the ancient world and into the heart of modern love; the journey begins with an act of vengeance for the women raped at the birth of Rome.

Rhine explores the sacred, the vulgar, and the human experience as her poems explode into sharp, dizzying shards of emotion and drama. The Chronicles of the Pharaoh's Daughter is a collection that exhales classical archaeology while reinventing the past with the vigor and vision of a strong, defiant activist and writer.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781475928174
Publisher: iUniverse, Incorporated
Publication date: 08/09/2012
Pages: 192
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.44(d)

Read an Excerpt

THE CHRONICLES OF THE PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER

Poems of Love, Loss, and Rebirth
By DAVINA RHINE

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Davina Rhine
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-2817-4


Chapter One

    Take the Sword to Your Belly


    How can you expect your daughter,
    to give her life in your death?
    Will your grave be so selfish and cruel?
    The father whose name fails to love me
    Even now as skeletons dance behind me
    Waving flagrantly with their mockery
    Our chains of marriage bind me

    You beg me to take the sword to my belly
    Why do you beckon me to die to be with you?
    Can you not at least this once
    meet with me in life?

    Your spirit doesn't know me,
    your soul fails me
    It is your memory that taunts me
    You won't even hold me in death
    Big girls don't cry
    unless daddy ignores their existence

    "Take the sword to your belly darling daughter
    And maybe, just maybe, with the ultimate sacrifice
    I will invite you into my dwelling ..."

    My weeping denies my son, your forsaken grandson
    Your seed so shallow ... should it be allowed to carry on?
    My sorrow hangs around my neck
    like ancient perfumed beads
    Suddenly the gods' hands tighten around me
    Bathed in your blood
    I hold your heart in my hands
    O' Daddy,

    Your are cold and cruel
    Your turn your back to me again
    You won't have me unless I die to be with you.
    You have betrayed me again in death as in life.
    My heart gives and forgives,
    again and again
    Just to be broken by you

    Your anguished shadow tells me,
    "Lovely daughter forsake all to be with me ...
    take the sword to your belly."


    Caligula


    I hear your voice and feel your arms
    twisting beneath my feet
    Groping my ankles from the grave
    Our forsaken love buried so deep

    Father, shall I take you into my bed?

    You loved me once
    but not more
    since the moment you touched me
    Our sweet little secret

    Your eyes closed in bittersweet trance
    gods and demons dancing in your head
    Love, lust, heroin, swimming in your bed

    Mating in ritual as Caligula and his serpentine sister
    The womb of madness brings forth destiny

    Are the bonds of brethren not the purest?
    For bloodshed and grief?

    Father, shall I take you into bed?
    We are after all are our own royalty

    To carry your spirit over from the edge, back from the dead?
    Please be with me my father dearest
    Taste the lips of damned indifference

    The winged angels and haloed lions that dressed
    and undressed in our chamber
    Bringing us together, so sweet ...

    The agony echoes in the chamber of my disillusions,
    we weren't meant to be.

    I have burned our words into our grave marker
    Engulfed in flames sailing on the Roman Sea

    The reliefs around the temples of justice
    are carved from my grief.
    My heart carried by heavy hands ...
    waiting to be with you

    Father lie with me
    be with me
    For I am naked
    in a blighted nightmare.

    Father, shall I take you into my bed?


    Where is my Abram?


    I am your lover, your descendant, your foul
    I walk in your footsteps knowing I have loved none ...
    until I have loved you now

    Your abandonment molested me
    You casted me out to the desert sands barren and dry ...
    Will not your semen refresh me father?
    Will it not quench my thirst?

    Will your god not spare me of your burden?
    Your fate is not mine alone

    Father, you deny me
    I am the child of your folly,
    your lack of faith
    You did not believe,
    I was the chosen one before or after
    What was your reason then old man to sleep with my mother?

    You harlot
    Father, you are my whore

    You used the "God of gods," to justify your adultery

    You deny me old man
    But yet in the desert I die looking only for you

    December 14, 2005
    My lover, my father,
    I learned had died, almost a year before

    The man who had become my Zeus
    The man who begot me in his slumber
    and forgot me the morning after
    Where is my Abram?
    Where is my Moses?

    My sea boils in sin and blood
    It parts in anger
    Your sin, my blood, my father

    Where are my brothers?
    Where are my Isaacs and my Jacobs?
    Dead and gone

    The Patriarch's breath bore me,
    and left me lying nude
    "I am female!" he said
    "God has forsaken me! ~
    He promised me a son!"

    "Rape her and ravage her ...
    for what do I care?
    How can I be the Father of Nations?
    when my only daughter is a girl?"

    I search for god
    for you
    us
    blindly in our golden Egypt

    Father you have enslaved me.


    My Athena


    I am,
    where I don't belong
    the land of the dead
    Confused and dumbfounded,
    by the way of the living
    It's a sad mystery ...
    how do they go on?
    Civil wars erupt around me
    My Athena guards me.


    I am but a Pharaoh's Daughter


    I am but a Pharaoh's Daughter
    misled by majesty and disbelief
    He proclaimed himself god, god of all
    Yet,
    I was not him
    I was not born of his Egypt
    I am,
    but a mother,
    whose red lips foretold
    my betrayal
    I disobeyed

    I questioned him, the Almighty

    I am but a Pharaoh's Daughter
    relished in gold,
    as the ancient mysteries unfold

    My arm of rulership severed in my tomb of denial

    Casting me aside in history,
    I am but a Pharaoh's Daughter.


    My Nike


    Her statue won battles ...
    Her wings flung to the high sea
    Not barren was she,
    as the sons of sacrifice laid at her feet
    But did she really wage wars and beckon misery
    with her penchant for speed and victory?
    Rumor would have it so,
    although she was Athena's
    right-hand man?

    History tells us that
    the fighters who met her, met her in death
    from ancient Greek sea battles to American missile systems
    Men forsaking their mothers, to wage war for the earth's bounty?

    Would a woman send her child to fight a man's war?
    I think not

    Women know the price of men
    It is their heads revered in folklore
    Their heads sprung forth from Nike's womb,
    The snakes coil like demons under the angel's breath
    And war was both their beast and their breast,
    fevered in deceit and disbelief

    Nike was the sea's final plea for peace.


    The Second Coming


    PREMATURE

    Everything is premature
    Your ejaculation that gave birth to me
    Your arms that failed to embrace me
    I am twenty-nine
    and I am still without a father
    Now that you are dead,
    Your second coming means nothing to me

    Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
    our love is nothing
    Not even promised nor protected by Christ,
    or his mother, or his father

    Why did your grave catch me by my ankles?
    Your death fills me in our infancy

    Blood doesn't bind us,
    bread doesn't fill us,
    brethren do not deceive us
    wine only delays us

    Your second coming father,
    and just like all the times of my childhood,
    you again failed to show up.


    Our Fallen Empire

    They look to the West
    waiting for the Emperor's descent
    or for Gabriel's triumphant cry

    What befalls a nation
    befalls a child

    What becomes of a nation
    becomes of a girl

    The flowers have killed their seed,
    though the sun shines and the bees sing
    Fate, war, and bloodshed
    Children lie in wait on the senate floor

    The earth is barren
    Our destiny flat

    The baths have lost their luxury
    As rape and vengeance
    fill them with humanity's misery

    O' Rome
    My Rome

    How dare you steal my daughter from me!
    How dare you think your empire will last in light of our rape?
    Our stolen seed!

    Yet my love beckons for affection,
    yearns to know those who fathered me!

    The empire falls
    just like us
    My love is timeless
    your love corrupt

    Blood splattered on the rocks
    I am but a sacrificed child

    Swimming lost in the sea,
    with Minos of Titus
    sick with grief

    Toxins fill me,
    swelling my belly under my misery

    Fear is love
    Love is fear of never being loved

    Are we but the split of Nero's insanity?
    Beheaded we fall
    Crosses illuminate our passing in the night
    unsacred to all but god

    My Father, my emperor, you have forsaken me
    I demand vengeance now,
    restore my fertility.


    The Last Rites


    The golden halo engulfs me
    If only I had riches, not rags
    I too could be nobility

    Then maybe god would spare me my grief

    If I had as much riches as the child wants for love
    Then I would be welcome into the Kingdom of Heaven
    The stained "Kingdom of God,"
    or at least into yours ...
    right father?

    Our church frowns
    You mated with me
    (As the corrupted fathers and priests normally do)
    I am not a slave
    I am not a peasant
    I am not your wife
    I am your daughter,
    a daughter of the church

    I have defied you by surviving you
    I have defied the church by demanding that you behave as a
    father

    My father,
    even if it is too late in our last rites ...
    because you are beyond forgiving, dead and lost
    Sacrificed to science and the realm of the unloved
    by the medical examiner
    I now bury you ...

Chapter Two

The King

Death Before Dishonor

My Five Bloodstains

This is the story I was never suppose to write. I was maybe perhaps destined to tell it one day to my son when I was in my fifties, but certainty not in my twenties. It is 01-06-05. My father has been dead to me since 12-15-05. Perhaps he had been dead to me longer than that, but I was in denial.

So many songs have become my father's song. I have listened to Nothing Compares to You by Sinead everyday that has passed. Counting my days from one to fourteen then time stopped ... At fourteen days if the person was still alive, you could call. You could write. You could beg. You could proclaim your love and forgiveness in the attempt of reconciliation. It has passed 14 days, nothing. No phone call. No knocks at the door. No, "I really fucked up and I am sorry." No spiritual encounters with dead.

In fact, I have to keep living as if I am not dead, and I am starting to get angry. I have to keep working, loving, moving and smiling. My three days of bereavement at work are up. I guess that's better than none considering how employers nowadays won't even pay for sick leave, or pensions, or maternity leave, if they ever really did. I have been begging and asking for time to sing and write, to get it all out, maybe more than once. Every time I snatch that moment Corben wakes up, or some interruption occurs.

I have done everything. All the leg work to find those guilty in my father's case. I have interrogated police officers, medical examiners, sergeants and detectives. All who blame the other party for what happened and what didn't happen that should have. How do you not notify the family of the deceased? You had a license, you had my police report for a missing person, you knew we were here! His body probed and prodded by city students before being burned and discarded. He didn't donate his body to science, nor did I ... you stole him from us and gave him away as a city write-off!

I have arranged the private memorial where his ashes lie, without our consent, or his wishing. I have arranged the fought for military service and burial he wanted even though all we have left to bury are his DNA bloodstains saved by the coroner's office, my five bloodstains. How I wish I could impregnate myself with them; to give birth to my father again. To right the wrong—the wrong that was his life. It becomes ours—the sins of his forbearers and ours.

"Fire on Babylon!" —Sinead O'Connor

My fourteen days have been work, work, and work; all necessary work. I want my private moment with my father; just one more. I am finally accepting he won't be here, but I am damn it.

I mourn my father now for everything I wanted from him but he could not give. His lack of giving however was not meant to be an excuse to deny him proper burial. Now his fight is mine. Never will the weary sleep again for I am the ghost who will come banging every night, demanding justice and answers. Excuses are no more than half sincere apologies because they were caught not doing their job. They chose not do their job because he was a homeless veteran, they were indifferent and negligent. Their job cost my family a complete farewell to the man we both loved and hated.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from THE CHRONICLES OF THE PHARAOH'S DAUGHTER by DAVINA RHINE Copyright © 2012 by Davina Rhine. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Take the Sword to Your Belly....................1
Caligula....................3
Where is my Abram?....................5
My Athena....................8
I am but a Pharaoh's Daughter....................9
My Nike....................10
The Second Coming....................11
Our Fallen Empire....................12
The Last Rites....................14
My Five Bloodstains....................21
The King and Me ... Tragedy....................32
Daddy, When Are You Comin' Home?....................34
Addiction: The Pain of Angels....................35
Genealogy and Gynecology....................38
My Green Chair....................45
Dancing Skeletons....................46
The Roller Girls....................47
A Dream within a Dream: Erotica, Violence, and Fear....................49
What Happened to the High Rise?....................60
Self-Centered Selfish....................62
The Animal Instinct....................63
Where Does Green Leave Us?....................71
Hell's Kitchen ....................72
The Forbidden Lovers Door ... An Intimate Civil War....................74
For Troy, My Heart Sails ....................77
The Chains of Cleopatra and the Snakes of Separation....................80
The Girl in Blue Jeans Clinging to a Cross ....................82
The Magnolia Trees at Midnight....................85
Not Once, Not Ever....................86
The Church....................87
The Pearl Affair....................89
Ball and Chain....................90
You Know....................91
The Garden of the Gods....................93
I Don't....................101
Cinderella and her Pumpkin Man....................103
The Backyard Amazon....................104
Innocence....................106
What happened to the Cancers? Finding the Aristocrat in me....................111
Repentance....................116
Crayons Spilling on the Floor....................117
Aves Love....................119
Fated Muse....................125
The Yellow Gold....................127
Cryptic Lipstick—I Love You....................129
The Human Heart....................132
One Thousand Nights....................133
Lovesick in the Bottom of a Glass....................134
Love in Pompeii....................136
The Angels Have Come Knockin'....................139
The Goddess's Table....................145
Medusa: The Legacy of the Crown....................148
Evicting Cyril....................151
The Great Goddess Temple: The Beginning and the End, the Future and the Past....................156
The Modern Athena....................162

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