My Roman Ruins
you are my rome,
all roads lead home to you
the ruins of my destruction
on the rounding patchy earthen grounds
strown with stiff marble columns
that have long ago cracked and crumbled
and into several broken pieces
by the hand of a violent man
signs of the holy catholic trinity
stand everywhere
yet there's no holy space
where I find the comfort that I need
to rest my weary head
bleached bones and skulls
with sullen hollow spaces
hide in deep tunnels under the ground
continue to haunt me in my sleep
as the towering roman aquaducts
remind me of the mighty powers
that fell from grace years ago
the via appian way spreads
far and wide to many places
destroying forces that
blocked their armies way
on it's broken bricked path
I trod through my sunny days
and my dark loney nights
yet no matter how hard I fight
to move my sandled feet far away from you
my warped brain keeps
directing it's seizing waves to
cherished memories of your
youthful tanned roman face
you drunk again from the original sin turn your head
a little to mix the blood with the water.
speak into my left ear where i her lies the best you say.
a metal crusifix round your neck keeps eardrum
aquaducts from draining their lower case verbs
and adjectives onto the floor.
so we are quite for awhile, waiting for the
sound the movement of voice and tone to
decifer the truth.
but nothing moves.
now i place heavy latin numerals to mark
the spaces between us.
you tell me that there is a fire that burns
in you and that it once burned between
the ribs of adam....and that now it is mine.
so i stoke and fuel the fire with strange paper back
fiction novels i found at a garage sale.
the light and warmth it brings is
enough for now.
I will pave the farthest road,
see my likeness known in marble and gold.
Is it power, is it greatness I pursue?
Yes, it's destined, it makes sense,
that I should come to prominence,
Oh, world, Caesar comes for you!
I will not fade, spread across Pompey's gates,
what would Cicero know of what is great?
I can say,
alea iacta est, Rome will see her day.
Damn winter, autumn, by spring,
you'll see city columns rising.
And the aquaducts will flood with the blood,
of any still defying!
May the Gods stand behind my scabbard,
may the Gauls all scuttle and scatter.
I'll not retreat, or sit on my laurel wreath,
alea iacta est!
A thousand legions strong,
scouting regions far beyond,
marching on,
alea iacta est, Rome will see her day.
A thousand legions strong,
from Athena's Parthenon,
marching on,
alea iacta est, Rome will see her day.
I shall go, I shall see, I shall conquer,
I am servent to this life no longer.
Let the world heed these words,
and be ready to feature,
Gaius Julius Caesar!
Yes,
The die is cast,
It's mine, this at last,
alea iacta est,
Rome, will, see, her, day!
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