Best Wooden Horse Poems
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 ).
Brutus Iulius Trois Page 05
Loud laughed Pandrasus Hear the mice roar
yet stubborn Pandrasus swiftly gave chase
over the high mountain, through the deep forest
so easily he fell to the trap Brutus had laid
on Achelous's banks Brutus did ambush the king
Brutus standing tall looked down at Pandrasus
Pandrasus said Brutus Irony is fates game
Greek oppression rebuilt my nation
in truth you Pandrasus built my wooden horse
Metrophanes , a grandchild of great Priam
by Imbrius's widow, the captive Medesicaste
Crowned Brutus with a Laurel wreath
shouting in Greek, Hail Brutus the new Pandrasus
repeating in the Trojan tongue -hail The new Pendragon
Long may he rule over all of Chaonia
Brutus pulled off the wreath, not even by conquest is this land mine.
Greek soil is too bitter to nurture Trojan Roots
I would wash even my sandals in the sea and return to Troy
No shouted Linus one of the half blooded
I speak now for many men present
full blood, half blood we all bled for you
Our families were Trojans but Troy is no more.
Brutus! we have avenged the Trojan shame
Brutus! our wives, our children are Greek
we are not Argonauts to sail after adventure
we are not Trojans who fled from defeat
we are like the great warrior Ulysses
reluctant to leave home even for war
but stout fighters all and we are the victors
Brutus! we are Trojans only in name.
Assaracus grandson of Helenus crossed to the fore
Linus I led these enslaved sons before your birth
I gave Brutus the sword which cut our bonds
for brave Linus I also feared to use it.
My mother was Trojan My father Greek
I loved both must I choose between them?
Brutus the Trojan, Linus the Greek must I choose?
We are as a new nation, a new people
the old Phoenix dies as the new Phoenix soars
above the flames of its fathers funeral pyre
Aeneas, Ulysses, now Brutus were exiles
let our new people follow the new Pendragon home.
Firefly,
if I believe once
that all your beauty
is a charm of the gloom
reigning around you,
what would I do, then?
*
The house that I had once
under a table, was larger,
and warmer, and cosier;
And I could travel,
with that wooden horse,
much faster,
much safer.
*
The brilliance of a big light
is often not so dazzling
as then, in the pitch darkness,
when one’s eyes open.
*
Among all bad times
the worst is mine.
But I do love it
because I know:
We met this single time.
And also I know
that once I’ll miss it, oh, so dearly!
*
It was as easy, for my granny,
to pick wild white roses
as stars among the thorns of night.
However, once
she scratched her hand on Death and, after that,
she left her old bijouterie to me:
A dry bunch of violets put in a book,
and a white collar
knitted by herself.
*
Once I beseeched one saint
to help me in the trouble,
and he did.
I thought: O Lord,
how pitiful I am
if he himself had already
perceived all.
Amongst the heaven's vast divides in the kingdom,
Of the God's the hills have eyes.
Here mighty Zeus commands with an iron fist,
And lightnings deadly thunder bolts.
Beware humanity the Olympians watch over thee,
In the grand pantheon’s arena known as the blue,
Planet called earth.
Written in sacred text ancient scrolls are legends,
Hero's whom fall and rise with the whims of
Those four twisted sisters called the fates.
Praying in pagan temples to divine deities.
Virgin maidens cry innocence tears on the
Fallens behalf.
Courageous champions performing on,
A grand theatrical stage to appease nobility,
Almighty audience.
Hercules half beings mortal flesh an indestructible
Landside of raw strength a force to be,
Reckoned with no power on earth could,
Over throw his father’s immortal throne.
Achilles tempered steel wrought and lain,
Upon human flesh.
In reverences shadow of a woman’s desist,
Dies at the feet of reverences unmerciful beauty,
Named Helena.
Bloods spear of destiny lies quivering, on
The far distant shores of troy.
As a wooden horse burns beneath heavens,
Moonlit sky.
Greenery's loyal leaf encircles mankind’s,
Spiritual soul to honor lost hero's in the,
Elysian fields of the dead.
Silent echoes whispers linger among eight
Peaks near creet.
In reans ashes and destructions broken temple
Walls life remains at rests domanate state.
At victory's trumpet call shall these guardians,
Rewake to take their place again amongst,
The univeral map of galatic stars,
The oylampians.
But your legacy's remembrances leave,
A magnificent brilliance no dynasty can,
Compare with your shinning example.
We remember thee blinded by thine,
Everlasting beauty.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
the blackness of night dawned upon my mind
bringing to light the error of my times
bone white brilliance burning
away the mist with the flame of yearning
the logic of insanity revealed its maze
of western society- Rome in its last days
death rides a wooden horse rocking to and fro
riding unnoticed through the party, were all watching the show
there's fire in the sky just off the horizon
there's fire in the sky a last kiss before dyin'
TRYING TO REVISE FOR ANCIENT HISTORY EXAM
What if Darius had beaten Alexander?
The outcome would have been a mystery
Such supposing makes me wonder
About the blank unwritten pages of history
Scan the book and each dog-eared leaf
Try to recall why some words are yellow
Search the notes in my untidy sheaf
I’m a casual-sower/chaotic-harvester fellow
I should have gone over the Romans again of course
And maybe studied the maps
Oh, what about those Greeks and their wooden horse?
Or the burning of Troy perhaps?
Seeds of war, four horsemen strewn -
Ramses and Moses full of anger and rage -
Tomorrow begin their battle at nine, but at noon
Defeat is written across my blank page.
Upon the haunted, magic air
A sound is heard in the dark somewhere;
A creak of wood, as gears are churned,
A carousel begins to turn.
A siren song that calls a child
To find these horses running wild,
Whose painted mouths say: Join our game!
He leaps the one he wants to tame.
The laughing boy holds tight the pole
And hugs the wooden horse of old.
Watching the dark town flashing by
He takes the forbidden midnight ride.
The painted eyes begin to gleam
And shadows flicker close like dreams.
Front hooves rise in a sudden rear
As the boy now clings to flesh and fear.
He turns and looks for one last time
As the leave the carousel behind.
The maddened horse in nightmare flight
Rides the boy into the night.
They leap the earth in an endless rush
And hopes of childhood turn to dust.
The dark night turns to seek the dawn
But against the stars the boy is gone.
Be still,
Thy wooden horse, and
Rejoice in glory
For we smash
The gates of Troy
The smell of victory
Hangs in these clouds
Zeus, release
Your hammer of thunder
Athena, do not
Lead us asunder
When I was three I loved riding my wooden horse, going round and round would keep me on course. I would ride him up and then down, then we would go back around.
When I had children of my own, my wooden horse was loved by daughter Joan. She would ride and ride, with her eyes opened wide.
Now my grandchild loves my wooden horse, I can hear giddy up in her voice. Boy how time has blown by, now I watch my wooden horse and just sigh.
Date Written: 3/18/2020
Honorable Mention STRAND no 750, any form, any theme Contest Judged: 5/12/2020 Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Rocking wooden horse
flourishing guffaw of kid
child in mother wakes
When Troy fell by the deception of a wooden horse,
its people fled bringing along their treasures to the shores of Italy;
and with their warriors' skills and unfailing scheme,
their destiny was manipulated by an accurate prophecy,
when Helen had a vivid vision, and the medium verified her dream...
Greece's victory would have been avenged by Troy's sons!
Whoever thought that these fierce Latins would have harshly dominated
and controlled, for centuries, the old world with iron and might;
subjected peoples of many tongues under one power called, Rome?
Not a fancy of ancient dreamers, who advanced hurling out their screams,
never retreating an a stifled spirit; and as they pushed forward,
more empires were conquered, and all were obliged to obey!
And in the heartland of Latium, on those seven hills Rome governed,
noble senators lecturing and imposing laws on both free men and slaves;
the Roman Forum, with its brilliant minds, required absolute loyalty;
among the most honored emperors, there was one who outshined them all!
Why was Julius Caesar murdered by Brutus? Was it deep dislike or unrestrained
jealousy,
that tempted his cowardly hand, to commit a sanguinary act agreed upon by
others?
Such a great and noble man stabbed by conspirators with daggers, sparing no
mercy;
and he who bravely fought the barbarians of the north, and gave them more lands
to dominate,
died a terrible death so undeserved and undignified, only to have his crown taken
away!
And many Romans mourned on his burial' night...blazes raising up to placate the
guilty fools;
enemies who plotted and yet offered him their false friendship, which led to his
mortal wound;
and without regard, they treated him unfairly and cruelly to vendicate their
shameless hatred!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
Achilles can be wise or dumb,
But still his heart was strong and numb.
His fallen soldiers and fallen maidens;
Shall reach and inherit the Land of Eden.
A strong and brave, O' dying god;
Strike your arrows not to this lad.
Aim not his heart or not his heart,
Cause you’ll just stumble and spill your art.
A wooden horse was destined to enter;
This high castles, it became its shelter.
But it was also destined to live in fire;
Burn! And reach the end of the wire.
We are all destined to live and die,
And we have no choice but to laugh and cry.
No one can live as a human immortal;
Thus let our legacy live, like Achilles and his fatal.
There's moonlight on the prairie
With the campfire cracking
He sings his cowpokes song
He dreams of the day
Of catching the bouquet
The time and pleasure
Watching sons and daughters grow
Rocking on a wooden horse
Watching the flowers sow
Now he eats the dust of another days labor
Only wishing
For a drop of water to quench his thirst
Umable to sing
A cowpokes song
electric volcanoes spit sweat upon the frame
diseased alcoholics are the only ones to blame
clocks unfurl at awkward angles gasping help me please
i sit upon a jagged floor scabs rot and fall beneath my knees
shapes of bitter chemistry meld slowly in my brains
take some rope a wooden horse and softly end the pain
intergalactic voyages burst stealthily into pungent flame
ignorance of shattered hearts and jars is the reason why i came
battered fists pound faces blood splurts and meadows freeze
jumping joints reflect stunted scars succinctly silent seas
final verses asphxyiate disgusting rancid stains
final lines never sum up enruptured feeble rain
TROJAN HORSE
A decade long battle left them exhausted,
Squeezing mettle, dusky vigour fading,
Tired warriors, planning failing,
Dejected lay the war songs ashore!
Wisest of the mighty Greeks,
Amidst the crisis, Odysseus smiled,
The perplexed troops his voice then heard,
‘Retreat shall we all, to Greece we return!’
‘Thou shall follow,’ as they were taught,
None dared to question the mighty Odysseus,
Faith or fear, the reasons aplenty,
‘Surrender? Shall we not better die?’
The smiles then widened, gleaming eyes,
Infectious as they are better known,
The smiles to grins to laughter turned,
Spreading cheer among the Greeks!
Fewer words, glances spoke,
Turning heads to the thunderous roar,
‘There comes, my friends, the parting gift,
As we, the Greeks, soon shall be home!’
To the Trojans was a messenger sent,
Hoping for ceasefire, peace at both ends,
Full throttle preparations to leave the Trojan land,
Boarding ships, dropping sails!
Behind they left a gift of love,
Friendship cordial, they meant to betray,
The fortress gate when opened wide,
An abrupt halt to the jubilant furore!
From Cornel tree grove a masterpiece carved,
A giant hollow wooden horse,
Touching the skies, to Heaven bound,
Stood there a horse with a Divine touch!
Mindlessly the Trojans held the reins to steer,
Giving the enemy’s gift an easy passage into Troy,
Ignoring the words thus spoken by,
Two wisest priests of the kingdom that lived!
Cassandra, Laocoon warned of consequences dire,
If the Horse was not burnt with effect immediate,
‘Trust not the Horse, O Trojans, whatever it is,
I fear the enemy even bearing gifts!’
Resulting in the execution of both,
For the truth they spoke, their unflinching views,
Success when enveils, enmasks the mind,
Obscured and vague, the humans act!
Nightfall brought in their destiny adverse,
Opening the city gates, Odysseus let the Greeks creep in
Therein burnt the mighty kingdom,
Helpless, defeated, once unconquered Troy thus fell!
The quiet witness stood there stock-still,
The giant hollow wooden Trojan Horse!