Best Sparta Poems
THE BATTLE OF THERMOPYLAE - A SPARTAN DEATH WISH - 480 BC
300 Spartans or hoplites , the truly heroic
The loyal and totally patriotic,
Were ordered to fight to the death,
And To their very last breathe!
King Leonidas had to stop the Persian
Army and King Xerxes from capitulating
Athens, but these 300 strong
Were hopelessly outmatched, so wrong.
In addition, a traitor was lurking around,
Ephialtes knew he could find common ground
With Persia’s King Xerxes, Ephialtes wanted money
King Xerxes a conclusive win, a thought that wasn’t sunny!
Ephialtes, a Judas, told the Persians about the pass
To go around the mountain and surprise
The Greeks from the back.
Ephalites led them for he had the knack!
King Xerxes sent his 10000 “immortals” on this mission,
Xerxes himself put this mission into commission!
Puzzling however, is that King Leonidas knew,
The Persians were coming, yet ordered the hoplites to stay,
And the supporting army to go away,
Was this a deliberate act of self sacrifice, for an oracle
Appeared, which confirmed that should King Leonidas die,
And his honest, loyal soul soar to the sky,
Sparta would not be destroyed, and another interpretation
Was that King Leonidas wanted to give them time to escape,
Which they did. The 300 Spartans left fought
Bravely until each one dropped and they became naught!
And what happened to our notorious,
Traitor, Ephialtes – in Greek his name
Means nightmare,
Welcome nowhere, surely that’s fair!
The Battle of Thermopylae, the bravery of King Leonidas
Together with his 300, brave, strong and determined
Hoplites have contributed to a beautiful and rich history,
But the mystery
Remains, why did they choose to stay and die, instead of
Getting up to leave,
Abandoning families that would surely grieve.
The battle of Thermopylae took place in August 480 BC,
A great historical era, to which only the Spartans had the key!
Paintings
- Impression: Sunrise by Claude Monet (1840-1926)
- Deer in Stream by Philip Goodwin (1881-1935)
Red sun climbs an impressionist sea
climb
Boats and waves dance a gymnopédie
time stands still
Doe and her fawn in a dawn reverie
they drink from a stream in their tranquility
They taunt me
whispers and shadows and vague silhouettes
still haunt me
Vainly grasping for words to explain
why?
Empty questions shed tears in the rain -
I don't know
Was there a season of darkness we missed?
A wave of emotion we somehow dismissed?
Au revoir, dawn
wondering how we will make it through
with our fawn gone?
//Dedicated to my Uncle Don and Aunt Betty whose son Andy took his own life at age 19
Lyrics may be sung to Gymnopédie #1 by Erik Satie
Gymnopédie - a dance of ancient Sparta
Impressionism - a movement of the late 19th century in both art and music with which Claude Monet (art) and Erik Satie (music) are most often affiliated//
Written 5 Aug 2022
laurels
military, athletic
wrestling, running, boxing
Athens, Sparta ~ Tokyo, London
karate, skateboarding, monobobsled ...
artistic, driven
medals
August 6, 2012
Troy, The Defeat, Odysseus Punishment
Apollo, the archer-god, was quite unfair
Slew Eurytus for a vain archery boast
Mortal lives he had so very little care
Sending Greek ships sailing to the coast
Helen of Sparta, beauty beyond compare
face that launched a thousand ships
She of perfect face , body and hair
Paris stole this prize on his epic trip
Mighty hosts of epic fame and renown
sailed away to retrieve this treasure
Oaths given to hunt Troy's Paris down
Sacking the great city for good measure
Tens years of battles history so records
Heroes of brave deeds, tales now told
Great warriors , sworn to mighty Lords
Fought in the style of the swords of old
War was long and death was so redundant
Odysseus, devised a very cunning deceit
Pray upon Troy's hopes so very abundant
Victory, the sailing away of Greek fleet
A gift of a horse statue left on shore
Warriors hidden within its outer shell
Planned surprise attack just once more
Sack Troy sending its warriors to hell
Such a success was this devious plan
Troy fell to its most relentless foes
Death harvested wrath upon every man
Brought Odysseus trials the story goes
Odysseus warrior of Troy's epic defeat
Master of the great bow of Eurytus fame
Destroyer of Troy by such cunning deceit
Slayer sailed away, Troy in all in flame
Robert J. Lindley , 08-31-2014
note: Eurytus' grandfather was Apollo, the archer-god,
and was also a famed archer. Eurytus has been noted by
some as the one who taught Heracles the art of archery.
According to Homer, Eurytus became so proud of his
archery skills that he challenged Apollo. The god
killed Eurytus for his presumption, and Eurytus' bow
was passed to Iphitus, who later gave the bow to his
friend Odysseus. It was this bow that Odysseus used to
kill the suitors who had wanted to take his wife,
Penelope.
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
against the western wind; he will certainly mourn Piraeus,
and with sorrow-striken eyes, he'll invoke Poseidon.
Then he'll depart carrying the long hunting horn.
The small vessel will hold out and he won't fear waves,
but he laughs at Ares--who despises all kinds of irony.
Occasional gusts soothe the skin on his noble face,
unwrinkled and unrugged. Spring water should
quench his dry tongue; it's too warm and tasteless.
Stored in a huge amphora which depicts faces
of gods and warriors engaged in warfare,
it has the same warmth of the sweat that drips
from his hot forehead that has turned red.
Ahead, wisps of fog arise--an imagery whale.
Beyond there are perils and certain delights;
thoughts of danger will perturb him, thoughts
of discovery will enthrall him. He will be experiencing
them on his voyage--what he desires is smooth sailing.
He has heard of sirens and cyclops,
of fertile valleys and fields of yellow wheat;
of buffalos that roam, of goats and sheep that bleat.
How amazed he will be to find rocks
to build the New City*on that pristine shore--
he will declare his Queen sitting in the marble throne!
Demitrios the golden Spartan captain sets sail for Italy
to escape Achille's curse; he refuses to hide in the wooden horse,
he will never return to Greece. Athens and Sparta will not fight
with swords and arrows; their grand plan is to win war by deceit.
Cleverness will defeat the Trojans. Only Helena foresees the worse;
they don't heed her words--Troy will fall to the enemy.
* The New City: Neapolis ( Naples ).
From Heracles immortal line sprang Kings of Agiad
The blood of Gods and heroes in mortal flesh thus clad
And such was Leonidas, half brother to the King
Cleomenes of Sparta, of whom the poets sing
When came the call to Athens aid when none would take the stand
Leonidas Spartan stood, three hundred by his hand
‘We will take and hold the field against the Persian hordes
At Thermopylae prepared to die, we greet them with the sword.’
Thespian and Theban heard and rallied to the call
Their phalanx in the narrow pass an impenetrable wall.
Xerxes watched the waves of men diffuse against the might,
as Grecian stalwart heroes held, until the loss of light.
For two full days the Pass they held, whilst facing fearful odds,
until undone by Ephialtes, betrayer of the Gods.
Across the hills by mountain path were the valiant undone
And Leonidas understood the rearguard shield was gone
He called the valiant to his side and marked his standing stone
Let thespians and Thebans turn, here Sparta stands alone
Three hundred stood in scarlet lines their valiant death to wait
and leave the field upon their shields as every Spartans fate
Thus fell Leonidas King, who stood when none else dared
Defending Athens and all Greece lest dishonour ensnared
Remembered in the halls of Zeus with victors laurels bound
Three hundred stood three hundred fell and sanctified the ground
And thus the Delphic Oracle’s foretelling came to pass
That all of Sparta be destroyed or else King Leonidas
One year upon Plataea’s fields, with the final battle won
Remembered every Grecian heart this noble Spartan son
I can hear Thermopylae beckoning me upon my return
Leonidas’ voice calls me forward to battle with hardened pride
Time’s grains shifting bellowing out the past I have lived
And I am of that past…I can touch the echoes of who I was
I remember the summers heat as we marched to battle
Laughing in the parching dusts as brothers-in-arms often do
Praying to the gods for a cool Aegean zephyr
To dissolve my fears of the impending battle…death
But why now does my ancient king demand of me?
Why do the hoplites summon me by banging shield and spear?
I hold at the moment of entering that mountain pass
Marveling upon these memories of someone past…of me
Stepping forward I can see the army of Xerxes pride
In the shadow of King Leonidas crying “Molon Labe!”
Do I allow this ancient knowledge to lead me forward?
Or file it away dismissing it as incidence or moments chance
A moment’s time I see the battle unfold as waves of Persians push
Washing over and falling back over my fallen broken brothers
I bid goodbye to retreating men as they go to rally the Pelleponese
Leaving we…the 300 champions to perish in honored glory
As I trace the steps I have trodden in centuries long forgotten
I am a part of all things divinely made by the god’s hands
Weeping for my brothers whose tender faces I don’t recall
I stand in the grandeur of Thermopylae.
Historical Note:
The battle of Thermopylae (also know as The Hot Gates) was pivotal in the
worlds history. The group of Spartans, Theban, and allies held off the Armies of
Persian King Xerxes long enough for Greece to rally an army of its own and
defeat the persians. Those who went to Thermopylae knew it was a suicide
mission. Also, the words "MOLON LABE", were the words King Leonidas of
Sparta replied, when Xerxes demanded their arms in surrender...it
means "Come and
take them".
Lurking Darkness
Sleep now my love,
you have earned a great rest.
It has been hard on you.
It has been hard on us.
There is still time left.
They gave us days, you already proved them wrong.
You are a warrior, equal… toe to toe with Sparta.
They turned into weeks…and then months.
See, “they”, the white coats know nothing.
Believe me instead. “He” is listening to my words.
I am praying for you! You are my very breath, to his ears…
He misses nothing!
We tried their game of drugs and cuts and happy days.
There were really none. Sickness became the order of things.
Changing our thoughts, and sweeping away the tears…
left us tired, but not without hope.
The very fact that we now swim with the current,
knowing he is carrying us forward,
has provided a depth of peace…
un-achievable by pills and man made cures.
Higher than healing of the heart alone,
It is total and complete.
I am praying for everything.
I am praying for your soul.
Amen.
Breeders' Cannon Ball plays for days and decades even onto eras
Feeders on the bottom plus top down voodoo economics, no trickle
De-weeders? Why? Lawns are hype realistic so fake AF and anti-kith
Xeroscape like rape by statute not as consent is all we had and glad
as if LOVE LOVE like that is not welded onto the iron of our blood
our ICHOR revealed by the metal of my worth so all stop [fragment decay]
WE_SHE_BE and been found in the lost items bin or your heart box
Where few claim what they lost except employees that skim on whims
And random kids pretending to collect those sacred scatterings adding
Us all into the folk flying all stars from three to seven points and more
Up up to eleven and 127 plus 1 and another tenner and we are TEE H EX
Kate Bush ends spell of chant sans rhyme or beat and only written tell
By me that if your analyses searches for perfect supra-asymmetry balanced
By three points like MOEBIUS STRIPS or the landscape and felons well met
By the grads and all the Parises of Helen not Troy or Sparta or Hades subjects
Troy how you fell and flowed onto us oh Troy built but no Dear John JUDY Green
WE ALL LOVE YOU THEAFANIA MI MAYOR HERMANA o ONEE CHAN WO AI NI
all ways and four eve her all believe her and such is lillith plus you LADY^4
The Sacred Band
To those wearied warriors under the white and orange flame
here is a tale that you should listen
of a Sacred Band of men whose ground in blood they did christen—
One hundred and fifty pairs they were…one be lover the other beloved…
their bond forged in both iron and steel—
when the first fell the second would fight as two for the Ending they’d feel…
Many did they vanquish the mighty Sparta most of all—
that pompous elephant, that leathery dog, that wild bird of game,
that watery monster ‘neath rainfall,
and many other name—
a head above the fabled three hundred their passing was just the same—
destroyed by no one less than the Great Alexander
the Angel of Death did this exclaim:
“Perish any man who suspects that these men either did or suffered anything
unseemly.”
[For their place will never be with those timid souls who know neither victory
or defeat.]
Because they fell Daring Greatly…something all should wish to meet
The Sacred Band
By
Gabe Shelly
9/26/’13
(The Sacred Band of Thebes was a small army of selected soldiers, consisting of 150 pairs of lovers and beloveds, who formed an elite fighting force in the 4th century B.C.E. They were annihilated by Phillip the II of Macedonia in the battle of Chaeronea.)
"Hear your fate, O high-dwellers of the airy, wide open
Spaces and fertile plain, your rugged and enclosed
Lands, Sparta, untouched by that of hard-grinding war".
Thus, the fraught Oracle of Delphi had so spoken.
Now only I alone am left to ponder on all that was before...
And, which, wrongly, ignorant peoples should all suppose.
But Sparta should lose in victory -- whilst noble Athens
Would become more wondrous than any could ever
Have imagined! And although I am of Sparta...I think of her
As home. For I have hunted in the sprawling woodlands
Of Phelloe, dallied with the plodding tortoise in coy Arcadia;
Alalcomenae's giant oaks offering shelter from inclement weather.
I gave up tears when listening to ancient, groaning pines
On the sandy coast of Elis, marveled at white Blackbirds
In Cyllene, ate the dates of Aulis, tasted olive oils
From Tithorea; when sat at the table of the Gods dined
Upon wild strawberries from Helicon! The flashing roils
Of Saronic dolphins. The Six Caverns that none dares disturb.
Alas, in my distress I am more troubled than Menelaus;
And have known a hundred-fold more greater a jealous pride...
All his murderous heartaches. Same, sudden, gut-wrenching blow
At first encounter; this which serves no man any good cause...
Apart to live in melancholy. Skin as perfect as untouched snow.
A wilful deceit that can hide behind an unemotive woman's eyes.
Forgive me, Pausanias -- there is beautiful poetry in your words my friend!!
Heaven bound, hell-bent
Cradled between truth and false
Solitude well-spent in crowds
Among soul-filled emptiness he stays
Wisdom remains when one does grasp
We know not one thing at all
As he drank the poison
He died with this attained
Leave to Sparta where you may speak freely
To question without an answer
Spread your words like wildfire
Consummate them like an unavoidable cancer
But he chose to die in Athens
Heaven-bound, hell-bent
Governments await their deaths with no apology
Drinking the poisons of their hatred
Taking their curse as sustenance
We know not wisdom
Till humanity filters us through
And blinds our fear of death
And blinds our fear of you
September 4, 2013
For a Woman’s Love
When you chose to walk away from me,
swaying those seductive hips,
hand in hand with my ‘trusted ally’,
you took with you something
more precious than pleasure.
When you chose to walk away from me,
did you consider what comes next?
Did you not see me on a rampage
of blood lust and bleeding honor?
Did you even spare a thought,
to the souls who wander
aimlessly in asphodel
because you chose to walk away?
When you chose to walk away from me
did you think that I would pine
or seek relief in self-inflicted death?
I saved my sword for better use,
to hunt and seek my full revenge.
That’s why I sought my allies’ help
according to the oath once sworn
by those who came from far and wide
to seek your hand in marriage.
How could I let the Prince of Troy
seduce, abduct and twist your mind
With devious words and flattery!
Because you chose to walk away from me,
I had to stand and watch my men fall.
They shed their precious blood,
for my unworthy cause,
slaughtered in the war,
between honor and lust.
And now that justice has been done
Revenge attained, your love regained,
We shall ride home to start afresh,
We, descendants of the gods…
Menelaus and Helen, Rulers of Sparta!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ode to what’s been lost
Discarded Protocols and broken treaties
that were of our past
what things we’ve lost and might not gain again
why no one spoke or took refrain
We had come so far to keep us sane
we had a compass to keep us steady
to make it clear what’s right and wrong
why or how we’ve turned away
I do not know but hurts us so
What made us great and stand so tall this was known to all
but now we’ve changed and lost our way
from black abyss behind its summit peak
tortured in the name of terror behind a dying flame
who we are and how we’ve changed this must come at last
We must decide and hold our egos pride
we must ask what were going to be
men of Sparta and of war
or democracy freedom and law
Words can loose their meaning and shrivel up and die
when there turned upside down
reframed for plunder destruction and fear
how can we be clear
I saw her columns crumble Corinth and Doric
a little of the world was lost its heart light beats low
and saddened nights in somber days of grey
In spirit they beheld though grief and joys were few
to go against the wind of times blinded by the sun
or in the spirit they beheld will memory fade away
or set a new of a destiny yet seen
We have experienced a lot in a short period of time.
to consolidate meaning from experiences and be open
to finding our way, try to be objective and critical.
truthful to feelings within oneself and expressing them .
to share them with others can I hope be healing
Spartan's courageous men standing,
Shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield.
Immortal warriors of the past
With King Leonidas by their side
A hero born for this day.
As proclaimed by the gods.
With their shields burning fiercely
with flames of fire.
Reaching out to embrace the enemy,
And their weapons honed on blood and bones.
From eternal battles,
hardening their hearts to stone.
Tempering their souls into cold steel.
Grinding their heels deeply into the ground.
Relentlessly united in defending their cultural ideals.
Or to die and be carried back to Sparta upon their shields