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The Best Beware The Ides Of March Poems

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The Ides of March

“Beware the Ides of March,” the seer said to Caesar, 
But no one paid him much attention because the seer was a teaser. 
  
Just last week the seer had said, “Beware the rear Cassias, 
Whatever it is that he’s been eating has left him awfully gaseous.” 

Poor Cassias was so self-conscience that he stopped eating for a week, 
It gave him a lean and hungry look that left him anything but meek. 

Then the seer said to Brutus, “You need to get out of this joint, 
I see that you’re about to get canned unless you show dear Caesar the point.” 

“That’s a pretty good idea,” Brutus said, “I think that that’s what we should do, 
Both me and Cassias can needle him and some of the other Senators will too.” 

But when the seer spoke to Caesar it was hard for the emperor to decide, 
What course of action he should take because he didn’t know what was an Ide. 

Then people were in awe of the seer’s power and the things that he could see, 
They never knew that the things he had said helped to fulfill his own prophesy.


Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011


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The Lay of The Best Man - Part 5

The Lay of The Best Man - Part Five


Have you heard about the bespectacled man who wore his glasses to bed?
Because when he awoke mornings his dreams were all blurry in his head.
And what about the obese man who wanted to lose weight the easy way? Know what he said?
‘I’ll increase my carnal pleasures with the wife instead, and … kill Two Stones with one ‘Bird’’.
Foolish men. You sprint where Angels fear to tread and tell the Devil to go to Hell
Still, were it not for you, this world would be devoid of heroes; that much I can tell.


Please bear with me while I expose your moroseness and clarify your moronity.
Why a pained death aged 100, thanks to science,  rather than one at 80 with dignity?
Have you ever thought that always being prepared is the best practise to perfection?
Is it not better to strive for something beneficial, even if in vain, than to take no action?
Do you really think that microbes cannot control your behaviour? It’s all about survival.
And how does anyone know that microbes are not averse to  smell or sound? Fiction or factual? 


The proportion of water covering the Earth is the same as within the human body.
But tell me: How many find this not to be the strangest unlikely parody?
Also, how come the natural colours of the Earth are the same colours as man’s eyes?
All creatures, great and small, mourn their dead, so why can’t trees? No matter the size.
If a tree can make sound and move, breathe as you breathe, and grow like you grow,
Why then should it not see like you see, think like you think, and know as you know?


Oh yes, the ‘convenient’ Christian; please ask him to quote the Fifth Commandment.
......now watch him squirm as he feebly pleads the Fifth Amendment.
Many fail to 'Beware the Ides of March', deferring instead to Medicine and the Holistic
When in truth they should be referring to His Rod and Staff: The Holy Stick.
Your Scientists talk about Gravity and viscosity, sparks and quarks, and the Quantum feat.
But let’s be clear there’s another force, a human force; ….pray!! …..never the twain shall meet!!!


I reaffirm my avowedness to defend both the woman and the child.
Not only this, but also to defend the destruction of creatures of the wild.
In an ideal world the man would take the lead for an exemplary life and be beyond reproach
Instead his despicable ways is far from impeccable and he is not much better than the cockroach.
He swats the fly and and butchers the whale, ….and he must kill that Killer Bee.
But strange as it seems, he courts the ‘crims’, recidivists, …and leaves the killers be!?!?


Remember this: one has no choice in their gender, colour, or sexual orientation.
So please stop your hating, constant assaults, malice, and casual discrimination.
I am what I am by virtue of Life’s choice and mysteries unknown.
Just as you are what you are - by what Nature’s seeds have sown.
Be witness: If I have hurt no man, woman or child; not a tree nor creature free; I leave them be,
Why then should you hate me? …when you should be hating yourself for hating and mocking me!


The earth re-heals it’s good heath with fire, brimstone and seeping magma.
The Man repels all good health, many are covered in filth - a sapping stigma. 
Like a growing infestation of fungus and mould, their flesh obliterates Earth’s surface
Much worse than this: this festering eye-sore sore I see has even contaminated outer space!
I do see ‘ups’, but saw more ‘downs’; like a see-saw ..repeating; man seldom learns from history
Understand this: every single life, no matter how brief, has it’s own story. so give it due glory!


Remember Mr Good Character who, oblivious, crushed Aunty Ant, the bug?
Well, one day as he strolled, oblivious, he got assaulted by Mr Nasty, the thug.
Now, just like the bug he realises this world is filled with unprecedented dangers
And has learned that he has no rights when dealing with unpredictable strangers
“Now you see me, now you don’t …Karma, karma, karma”, cried the Chameleon
“Welcome to my world. “Welcome to a world where men live in oblivion!”


A man is not what he’s meant to be because he just exists, rather than live.
A man will not think as he ought to because he’d rather contend and not believe.
A man does not do that which he’s meant to do because his heart rules his head.
A man cannot act as he should because of his selfishness, greed, manners of dread.


Men can easily pretend - or even be naturally good
Still others, though genuine, are so often misunderstood.
But I’d claim that - (though it will your spirit dampen)…
‘A good man is simply a bad one waiting to happen’
So here is a truth - the truest TRUTH you’ve ever heard
That most men are BAD…so ALWAYS be on your guard!

p.s. …oh yes, …and some women too!



Copyright © Robert Amure | Year Posted 2015


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march madness

beware the Ides of March
the soothsayer said
as a roman swiftly cut off another man`s head


tis a dark mood indeed as the sun bleeds into moon
the howling of sirens complexities
grow louder as they swoon

for it is this march madness that is upon us
and has gripped us in a vice
shattered images of christmas
so soft and surreal
come hither these ides of march
and like an onion
come peel-

draw back your gums and challenge me with your great teeth
that I might rise up and strike these ides with a blow
never to haunt again
march 15th ergo.



Copyright © cherilyn fry | Year Posted 2009


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Words: Have you ever wondered

Words. Have you ever wondered 
where they come from? 
No, I don't mean their etymology, 
rather where in the brain do they spring from? 
Thoughts come, and then go, leaving no traces of their passing; 
but then words, shapes writ
on walls as in Belshazzar's feast, 
they come and stamp their presence on the mind. 
Whence do they come? Is there some bubbling spring, 
beneath the conscious mind, 
from which the flood of words wells forth, unstoppable? 
This word presents itself, to be
admired for its shape and meaning, elegant, interesting, 
worthy of contemplation; 
then followed by that one, dark and brooding, 
yet somehow in appropriate apposition 
to that which went before. 
Words...interesting characters....
full of portent and hidden meanings.
“Beware the ides of March”.  
Thus the Soothsayer portends Calpurnia’s dreams 
Made real, blood staining Roman streets.
“Stay in touch”.
Parting words, soft spoken with questioning 
Gaze. What portent is this? Are my dreams
To shape my corporeal present?
Are my emotions again to stain my waking hours,
Opening wounds barely closed, tears washing
Clean the blood of grief?
“Stay in touch”.
I like those words, they bring the inner fizz of 
Anxiety, nagging at me, disturbing my sleep.
“It’s been a long time” and “Stay in touch”:  
The alpha and omega of our meeting.
There is a palpable difference in you; a change,
Do you now see a different future, free of history? 
Have you taken the deep breath and sought the 
Intimacy of your space? Your own space,
Where you confront the demons of the past,
And the fears of days to come?
I like those words.
There is a future in those words; not the 
Finality of never seeing you, never knowing
You again. “Stay in touch”: portent of a conversation,
That, maybe, perhaps, might lead to a place where
Happiness colours the world, bleaching bright clean
The stained steps of the past.
“Beware the ideas of March”: there is no envy, I think,
Nor ambition, nor the hubris of power in you;
Only the resonances of the past, that can be healed.
And I? I am no Emperor, falling at the scent of the 
Adoring vulgates, desperate for the crown of your love.
No. I am the romantic hope-aholic, who listens
To your song and stills his eager mind and 
Fluttering heart. “Stay in touch”: 
I like those words. 


Copyright © Edward Clapham | Year Posted 2017


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Stay in touch

“Beware the ides of March”.  
Thus the Soothsayer portends Calpurnia’s dreams 
Made real, blood staining Roman streets.

“Stay in touch”.
Parting words, soft spoken with questioning 
Gaze. What portent is this? Are my dreams
To shape my corporeal present?
Are my emotions again to stain my waking hours,
Opening wounds barely closed, tears washing
Clean the blood of grief?

“Stay in touch”.
I like those words, they bring the inner fizz of 
Anxiety, nagging at me, disturbing my sleep.
“It’s been a long time” and “Stay in touch”:  
The alpha and omega of our meeting.
There is a palpable difference in you; a change,
Do you now see a different future, free of history? 
Have you taken the deep breath and sought the 
Intimacy of your space? Your own space,
Where you confront the demons of the past,
And the fears of days to come?

I like those words.
There is a future in those words; not the 
Finality of never seeing you, never knowing
You again. “Stay in touch”: portent of a conversation,
That, maybe, perhaps, might lead to a place where
Happiness colours the world, bleaching bright clean
The stained steps of the past.

“Beware the ideas of March”: there is no envy, I think,
Nor ambition, nor the hubris of power in you;
Only the resonances of the past, that can be healed.
And I? I am no Emperor, falling at the scent of the 
Adoring vulgates, desperate for the crown of your love.
No. I am the romantic hope-aholic, who listens
To your song and stills his eager mind and 
Fluttering heart. “Stay in touch”: 
I like those words. 


Copyright © Edward Clapham | Year Posted 2017


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March Middleness

After two months in his new office,
Trump signed many executive orders,
with people protesting everywhere,
mid-March was a bit like a nightmare,

Turbulent weather and conflicting news,
leaving many people a little confused,
not knowing what to believe or think,
even the latest information on wikileaks,

And with Spring just one week away,
bringing many to natures warm sway,
with the outside a little more cheery,
although crisis with some foreign countries dreary,

A tug of war with Trump and the wall,
different groups protesting that he's got a lot of gaul,
beware the ides of March are here for us to stay,
with the possibility of WW3 well on its way.



4-14-17


Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2017


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Twin Flames Support Each Other

Her heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest,
By a giant bear paw.
She had suspected for a few months that her twin flame was leaving.
They did not talk any more,
Did not eat at the same time.
Did not eat the same foods.
In January when she watched him drive his favorite tools to
His brother’s house, she knew the twin flame had died; the connection was kaput.

They used to laugh at the same place in a movie or TV show.
They used to be able to finish each other’s sentences, without any trying.
They had a fierce connection that had been inflamed and passionate since the
First time they looked up and saw each other.
She looked into his brown calf eyes, and knew
They were destined to be together.  He was a
Man of little words, but she could not shake him
Once he saw her.  She figured they had lived other
Lifetimes together.

In February she came home from work early, and caught him trying to
Sneak his favorite gray corduroy recliner out of the house; his brother’s
Face pinked up as she walked toward them.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I um….I um…”
His brother finished the thought for him. “We need another recliner at my house.”
She threw back her head and laughed. His brother and his wife already had
Wall-to-wall furniture.

She pictured her twin flame trying to push one more chair into their hoarder
House, and she laughed again.

“So we’re splitting up,” she said to her twin flame.
His face was pink. “Absolutely not,” he said, and they both knew it was a lie.
“Beware the Ides of March,” Her father had always told her.
It was March the 15th and she had come home from work, ready to
Share some pretty big news with her honey.
But when she reached the living room she
Suspected that he had already moved.

The TV and the remote were there, but his grandfather’s 
Desk was gone, as was the funny orange lamp she used to poke fun at.
Her heart was beating fast as she walked rapidly to the bedroom.
His dresser was gone, and so was everything from the closet.
He had left her a nice note and some money.

The joy about her new promotion was instantly replaced
With abject pain, despair, and eternal sadness.  Her twin flame was gone.
Twin flames loved each other; this did not feel like love.
Twin flames supported each other, this did not feel supportive.
Twin flames believed in each other, this did not sound like he believed in “them.”
Twin flames communicated to each other.

Maybe he was not her twin flame after all…


Written May 2, 2018
    For the Twin Flame Contest sponsored by Madison Demetros


Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018