Best Caesar Poems
Julius Caesar,
Had a few seizures.
Great leader of the Roman Empire,
On the Ides of March he expired.
6/18/13
JULIUS CAESAR
When you start reading
You show your feeling
But not in Julius Caesar
Whose chapters dip you in eager
Onto the streets of Rome
Lay a royal home
Caesar's it was
Who was the boss
He was the king
Bright as a diamond ring
He loved all his mates
who finally decided his fates
Mark Antony , his noblest and loyal friend
Did not leave him till the end
The story started fine
But no answers why it turned as a sorrowful line
On the night ,
Which was not bright
Filled with thunder and lightning
Caesar came shouting
Calpurnia, his lovely wife
Feared his life
She dreamt of bad omens
That spoiled her faith in her husband's Romans
Caesar neglected
That her dream as amiss interpreted
He was a lion
Who punished evil in a line
His famous quote
"Cowards die many times before their deaths ,
The valiant never taste of death but once"
Lies in all our minds
At last he gave up going to the senate house
But the evil Brutus spoiled his thought like a mouse
He took away Caesar to the senators
By telling false rumours
In the senate house, they killed Caesar
His voice grew hoarser
He believed Brutus and shouted ET TU BRUTE [ you too Brutus ]
But Brutus was happy with his killing lute [killing of Caesar ]
Caesar died,
The heavens cried
The happiness of senators did not last long
As they became small before Antony's anger bong
Antony waited for revenge and took Caesar's funeral as a starting point
Brutus, unaware of his mind , gave the joint
His tears flamed up as fire
And also lit Caesar's funeral pyre
Antony takes oath to finish off the unfaithful dogs
And lit the fire of revenge with his speech logs
Antony's speech became world famous
For its opening line
"FRIENDS, ROMANS , COUNTRYMEN "
He succeeded in winning the people's heart
And people came in to help him for a start
Antony also took the help of Octavius Caesar,
Caesar's nephew for a war with their anger
Against Brutus and his mates
At last Brutus and Cassius decided their own fates
They were defeated against Octavius and Antony
And finally, they commit SUICIDE........
- manasvini surya
sooth said to Caesar
sire beware the Ides of March-
assassins martyr'd
Sea Czar Caesar sees her seated on a cedar two-seater beside the East Sea Seder. He grieves since he sees his sister, Esther Dexter, with her red festered blister, next her.
Guinevere is pleased her eager leader, Caesar’s seen her. In degrees, she breezes, “Sir, see our sea surf? These sea treasures are pleasures to sea czars and we serfs.”
Caesar desires, if it please her, to seize her and squeeze her.
But Esther Dexter who’s next her interjects the elder perspective protector with an inflective reflector.
“Easy, wheezy geezer Caesar. It may please her if you squeeze her at your leisure, but if you seize her in a fever, she’s sure to seizure; so leave her at ease, sir!”
Peeved Caesar, seethes, sneezes, wheezes, breathes and proceeds. He’s pissed his less best pest of a sister, Esther Dexter, with her red festered blister, persists amidst this tryst.
He flees to cleave Guinevere’s knees. “See here, dear Guinevere. I’m neither teaser nor misfeasor geezer and will not proceed to cede to my tongue twisted sister, Esther Dexter. Please heed to receive my believable plead so I may leave relieved.”
Guinevere is pleased with her Caesar and suggests to Esther Dexter to leave her and Caesar forever.
Oh, Caesar, though our touch is lost in time:
Weeks, passing years, and years long eons, passed,
I still can hear and feel in learnéd rhyme
Your essence. Like some bee which has amassed
Sweets of the digitalis and the rose,
So have you much amassed in glory’s sack.
Yet just as power strengthens, so greed grows
And weighs much heavy burdens on the back!
Oh, Caesar, stricken soul who now weeps on
The fallen ashes of your flaming lands
Who roamed into the gold of Egypt’s sun
The spirit who travailed on its sands,
It looks as if the boon of glory’s womb
Had come to stow the image of your tomb
© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
Here's an ode I preserved for you in a poetically postured pose,
Particularly by my peculiarity of winding words with such prose.
Avail to the thesauri, and lexically thy dexterity shall enhance,
And uncover the meaning within this poem if you chance.
If ye choose to not peruse the prose within this poesy parlance,
A song I'll sing, a portrait I'll paint, or perhaps a jig I'll gaily dance.
Hither reader! Why not absolve thyself from an abstrusely crafted code?
For I warn that tedium and pomp onomasticon from thus unload.
If ye choose to peruse the prose within my cryptic poem,
Mind my method of muddling words to enclose what you must open.
Acquiesce a cumpulsory capacity for cryptology,
To bring from beneath what brews within this jambalaya of symbology.
First you must learn what it means for words to be encrypted,
A simple use of the alphabet on which the letters in words are shifted.
Give each letter from A to Z a number; one to twenty-six:
A mathematical use of Roman numeral, an ancient coding trick.
Now write a sentence, plain words: plaintext,
Try it now to learn what's next.
The letter within a name, such as Aileen,
Read: one, nine, twelve, five, five, fourteen.
Pick a word: a key you use to change,
The name Aileen to something strange.
Now you must learn what it means for words to be decrypted,
An ambitious mode to decode a code that an encryption has restricted.
Julius Caesar Ate My Beaver
(A Legionaire's Lament)
By Roy Merritt
Julius Caesar ate my beaver
After travelin’ through our camp
He came over one dark evening
Carrying a beaver lamp
And he snatched him up and took him off
And I heard later in time
He sat down at his dinner table
And on my beaver dined
And it cut me through and through
Yeah it cut me to the bone
And that’s why I’m sittin’ here
And ah singin' this sad song
And it's hard gettin’ over the sorrow
I ain’t got over it yet
And that son of a gun Julius Caesar
He owed me a big fat debt
So I got in touch with Cassius
And Brutus his good friend
And we all conspired together
To do that pushy Caesar in
And come the Ides March
In the Senate we soon met
We cornered that son of gun
And got him for killin’ my pet
We all plunged in our daggers
And Brutus was particularly calm
And it shocked old Julius Caesar
Cos’ he’d been sleepin’ with him mom
Now Cassius though lean and hungry
He wasted no time at all
He was one of our ring leaders
Intent to make Julius fall
Politics don’t you know
Was what motivated all them
But as far as me when he ate my beaver
It was like eatin’ my kin
I did it for revenge,
Revenge from me it poured
And unlike my co-conspirators
I fell not on my sword
Contrary to popular belief, it did not come from Rome.
California in the USA is what it calls home.
This rather simple salad is considered fabulous.
All you need to make it is a little romaine lettuce.
Take a piece of lemon, and squeeze it for the juice.
Giving this salad a slightly tangy taste is its use.
Throw in some oil and vinegar, and some parmesan cheese.
What you have is something that will please.
Do not worry if tomatoes are out of season.
They do not go into the recipe is the reason.
Want to dress it up some more? Take some chicken from the grill.
Now you have an entrée salad that will thrill.
If they do not like vegetables, this is a great way
to see they get their healthful serving of five a day.
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!
She, Queen of Egypt, he, Ceasar of Rome,
Together, their lands united a sea,
Their fusion less capitol, more a home,
A son born to them, though rule, not to be,
Yet, her debut in Rome breathed an epic,
Whilst there, Brutus and his clan, did tragic,
End murdered, Gaius Julius Caesar,
Self-death, Cleopatra Philopator.
2019 September 24
QUOTATION
And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of. Julius Caesar Act 1
MY POETIC VERSION : …………
As you cannot see what I see
Just like a mirror I will reflect to thee
I will be your mentor and your guide
Taking your hand crossing the thinking tide
I can see hope where failure meets your eyes
Can see the truth behind meaningful lies
The other side of you is in my sight
I offer you the chance to put things right
Fearless i will shout your name
Be your advisor in this living game
Will tell u what to do and when to say
I am your thinking mind this day
Your heart rules your head it must not so
Think which way you wish to go
Is it greatness you want, then you can find
I will be the thoughts in your mind
Penned May 10th 2014
He was born in Yonkers, just north of New York City.
This man grew up to be funny and witty.
While working in a luncheonette owned by his family,
with the art of patois, Sid displayed proficiency.
As a funny comedian, he made his presence felt.
Sid got his start in upstate New York in the Borscht Belt.
As a saxophonist, his first job was at the Vacationland.
He became an influential member of the hotel’s band.
With the late Imogene Coca, he was a television pioneer.
On Broadway and in movies, Sid would also appear.
However, alcohol and barbiturates nearly destroyed his career.
A recovery brought him back into entertainment’s sphere.
Over the years, many awards and recognitions came his way.
At the age of ninety-one, Sid Caesar passed away.
RIP Sid Caesar
(1922-2014)
I thank both wikipedia.org online encyclopedia and variety.com for information
I obtained to write this poem.
Friends, neighbors, countrymen,
I come to bury Caesar not to praise him.
Of course he was no famous emperor,
although he was proud and tough enough
to think he was the king of our alley.
Poor Caesar, a life cut short
by some irresponsible driver
squashed him down in the middle of the street
and kept on going, a reckless fool.
So bury Caesar we must,
even though he has no coffin to speak of,
no flowers by request, that's to be expected,
but why he was not given any proper shroud?
No prayers are said, poor Caesar,
but tears flow quickly enough
for he was loved by all, children and old folks;
and now I cannot fathom
how I’ll miss his welcoming joy
when I come back from work,
or our lovely trips in our large public garden.
Who will wake me up early in the morning,
when I will never hear his awful barking
at each blessed dawn of day....poor dog!
Note: This is actually a repost of a poem I once deleted but never reposted.
Salad dressing cold
Sprinkle on favorite dish
Should be a toss up
Ay, the Ides of March are surely here
Hark Caesar’s words, these that are true
For the time of prosperity is certainly near
This, being reassured by the dawning sun’s yellow hue
Romans, countrymen, what opportunities shall we avail?
Do we not pay our dues to the good Caesar in the day?
And surely we must do the same by night, as the moon shines pale
So shall our dear Caesar be thought highly of in his glorious array
Doth my eyes be deceitful, a fellow Roman with an evil intention?
Surely, this Brutus cannot be so daring
To slay the Great Caesar of such humble discretion
How now will Rome be so forbearing?
For there are snakes in the shrubbery, and slowly do they slither
And the very grass upon which they lay, surely does wither