The poem, with a beaty rappy type of rhythm is called Medea, but it could be about any number of notorious women throughout history who were lied to, cheated on and dumped by the hero of the story.


I have to say,

there’s no way

I would stay

with a dude like you,

a dude who

won’t apologise,

weaves tissues of lies,

pretends to be surprised,

when I tell him he’s despised.

What kind of a reception

did you think your deception

would get from me—

floods of tears, maybe?

Such a little word,

that I’ve never heard

leave your lips.

Like spitting pips,

you scowl, not even then,

not even when

I say I’m going,

my storm light glowing,

can you spit it out clean,

that word that would mean

you truly care.

Don’t dare,

don’t frown,

make me chase it down,

like some kind of quarry,

that little word—sorry.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

32 thoughts on “Medea”

    1. The men were happy enough to profit from her knowledge of plants and drugs, but they resented it when she used it to get her own back. I’m glad you see her story the same way 🙂 The women in many mythologies, but especially Greek (and Christian) mythologies get a raw deal.

    1. It always makes me suspicious when I hear Ancient Greece trotted out as the summum of civilization. It’s just another example of how it doesn’t matter in the slightest how women are treated.

  1. The short, insistent rhyme structure helps punctuate the anger of the story you’re telling here, how the woman is fed up and not listening to his crap anymore, not going to let him get a word in edgewise until she finishes what she has to say. Wonderful!

    1. Thanks Joy 🙂 I bet Medea and Circe and all those ‘terrible’ vengeful women in the Greek myths were a bit like this. They wouldn’t have been hated so much of they hadn’t been mouthy 🙂

      1. Yep, that’s the double standard, isn’t it? Women do the same thing as the men in legends, and they’re considered mouthy instead of confident, emotional instead of passionate, greedy instead of ambitious, etc.

      2. Exactly. I’d say it’s as old as time, if there weren’t some mythologies that give women a fairer crack of the whip. The Greeks though were atrocious!

  2. The contents of that poem raise many emotions in me – sadness, angst, whimperness, anxiety, righteous anger. The way you wrote it inspires me to want to write as well as you, makes me jealous of your talent and raises awe in my breast. And I love that picture – whore, angel and bestower of poison and nectar (both in the same container).
    Picture me smiling.

    1. I’m truly humbled by your comment, Robert! Stringing words together is something I enjoy. This was inspired by a comment on an earlier, similar poem, that he (Jerry) just wanted to grab a mic and rap it out. I hadn’t thought of it like that, but he’s right, it’s the rhythm that gets this style of poem going. Try it! There’s no mystique 🙂 I love Evelyn De Morgan’s work. Her women look strong and purposeful.

      1. I’ve read poems like that – they just beg to be performed somehow. I like that kind of strong rhythmic pulse that they have. I love your poem for the different reason I mention though. It speaks to me.

  3. All the more powerful for the brief, pointed lines and straight forward rhymes. I agree with all the comments about the treatment of strong women in history. Interesting times we live in. Can’t help feeling we’re headed back there if we’re not careful. Everyone’s taking their freedom for granted, as if it’s not a fragile thing which needs protecting.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s