Tempest: Esmeralda Bianski
Thank you for featuring Tempest on your blog. You asked about the inspiration behind the poem, and in many ways it was born from my fascination with the archetype of the dark feminine.
The central figure in Tempest draws heavily from the idea of the femme fatale — a woman whose beauty, charm, and magnetism conceal a far more dangerous nature. Throughout literature, mythology, and folklore, these figures often embody temptation, chaos, and destruction, not through brute force but through subtle influence and seduction. I wanted to explore that tension between allure and peril.
The poem was also influenced by the lineage of mythological women who have shaped the archetype of the dark feminine throughout history. Figures such as Lilith, Circe, Medea, The Morrígan, and Morgan le Fay embody a feminine power that is at once captivating and unsettling, creative and destructive. These women and goddesses exist on the threshold between wisdom and danger, attraction and ruin, often challenging societal expectations and wielding forms of power that are both revered and feared. Their echoes can be found throughout literature and folklore, eventually finding new expression in the femme fatale archetype.
Another significant influence was the witches in Macbeth — or, as theatre tradition prefers, “The Scottish Play.” Shakespeare’s Weird Sisters are among literature’s most compelling embodiments of dark feminine energy. They are enigmatic, prophetic, and deeply connected to fate, yet they rarely act directly. Instead, they whisper possibilities, sow seeds of ambition, and allow others to bring about their own downfall. I was fascinated by their ability to manipulate events from the shadows while remaining almost untouchable themselves.
In Tempest, I sought to capture that same sense of irresistible attraction intertwined with impending ruin. The poem presents a figure who is beautiful and captivating on the surface, yet beneath that lies a force of chaos and destruction. She is less a person and more an archetype — a storm given human form, drawing others toward her even as she leads them astray.
Ultimately, the poem is an exploration of temptation, power, and the timeless literary motif that not everything beautiful is benevolent. Sometimes the most dangerous forces are those that enchant us first.
TEMPEST
Tempest be,
Thou tempest see,
Foul wind on high,
Dark draweth nigh,
The angels do weep,
Nor demons sleep,
Hark; ne'r thee privy to such foe.
Raven hair as black as sin,
Silver skin she slithereth in,
Her eyne and scarlet lips beguile,
Her siren song will ensnare awhile.
Hast thee ev'r seen such lustful figure?
Her hunger for chaos and woe groweth bigger,
Verily, pray thou for thy death anon.
Her cunning guise enshrouds the abyss,
Her mien lureth thee unto amiss
Like Eris and Lyssa before her,
Words uttered shall shatter, not stir,
An she hath thee in sight,
Thou art doomed in thy plight,
For such tempest is final for all.
Another significant influence was the witches in Macbeth — or, as theatre tradition prefers, “The Scottish Play.” Shakespeare’s Weird Sisters are among literature’s most compelling embodiments of dark feminine energy. They are enigmatic, prophetic, and deeply connected to fate, yet they rarely act directly. Instead, they whisper possibilities, sow seeds of ambition, and allow others to bring about their own downfall. I was fascinated by their ability to manipulate events from the shadows while remaining almost untouchable themselves.
In Tempest, I sought to capture that same sense of irresistible attraction intertwined with impending ruin. The poem presents a figure who is beautiful and captivating on the surface, yet beneath that lies a force of chaos and destruction. She is less a person and more an archetype — a storm given human form, drawing others toward her even as she leads them astray.
Ultimately, the poem is an exploration of temptation, power, and the timeless literary motif that not everything beautiful is benevolent. Sometimes the most dangerous forces are those that enchant us first.
TEMPEST
Tempest be,
Thou tempest see,
Foul wind on high,
Dark draweth nigh,
The angels do weep,
Nor demons sleep,
Hark; ne'r thee privy to such foe.
Raven hair as black as sin,
Silver skin she slithereth in,
Her eyne and scarlet lips beguile,
Her siren song will ensnare awhile.
Hast thee ev'r seen such lustful figure?
Her hunger for chaos and woe groweth bigger,
Verily, pray thou for thy death anon.
Her cunning guise enshrouds the abyss,
Her mien lureth thee unto amiss
Like Eris and Lyssa before her,
Words uttered shall shatter, not stir,
An she hath thee in sight,
Thou art doomed in thy plight,
For such tempest is final for all.
Esmeralda Bianski
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