Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's-
but Caesar has stolen everything:
the land,the tongue,the airwaves,
even the prayers we whispered under stars.
Render unto God what is God's -
but God is tired of excuses,
God wants justice,not jingles.
God wants bread for the barefoot.
God wants truth that does't trend.
So tell Caesar:
We are the new prophets bro,
we carry Scripture in spray cans,
we baptize pavements with protest songs,
and our psalms wear hoodies and sneakers.
Tell him the meek are armed
with metaphors and memories,
Tell him our tithes is uprising,
our sermon is survival
our altar is the street.
Render unto Caesar his coins -
we're doing trading our souls.
For the kingdom of the poor is rising,
And the drum is the only law we obey now
it happens when you least expect it
"et tu, brute?" were the last words he uttered
before falling down on his knees
a witness to a horrific scene
where Brutus stood with the crowd of assassin
with his dagger in Caesar's heart
it happens when you least expect it
Caesar's cries echoed through the halls
the hurt was caused by a dearest beloved friend
who promised to stood by and defend the empire
Did Brutus ever shed tears or did he ever stopped his hands?
23 stabs but only one hurt that came from the one who he loved
Cleopatra,
I investigate your eyes
through Nile mist that weaves,
jade butterflies that never fly
sable tresses hanging over leopards
bole skin on the border of Venusian dreamcatchers
Gilded diadems dance as burned suns
radiate from golden flakes of your crown
lightning demarcating the border between genius
— and ambition
wars are fought easier than your heart is won;
Cupid grieves your connections
Great men fear being made lesser by You
She of the God-like Mind
made Immortal for her Wise Counsel
I’m no prisoner of Fear nor Envy
nor Love
only Fate & Chance
Passionate war’s trompe-l’œil
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.
"And you, Brutus?" And then was Caesar dead.
A moment's act and history's chapter done;
A moment's thrust and Caesar's life was bled,
And you the one that Caesar thought his son.
But were you son of Rome, and that came first?
Did Caesar die a hero, or a knave?
Can justice spring from such a violent burst?
Can sudden murder be an act that's brave?
I cannot judge, I was not there that day,
Nor felt the thought and passions of the street;
I cannot judge, let those who can then say
What fate a newborn tyrant stands to meet.
I cannot judge, and therefore close the door:
But lasting good came not from that day's horror.
Well, Brutus was that sort of chap
As whacked his old man in the Cap.
The senators there,
They’d stab or they’d stare,
With all other business a wrap.
Gaius Julius Caesar
was not a real people pleaser
he tried to set himself up as a monarch
but never made it past the Ides of March
Were Caesar's physique and a psyche imperishable?
Did he gain gifts from sources that were ineligible?
Hadn't all his possessions been from the heavens, rather?
Should he, then, for tributes, bother the son of the father?
Should Jews pay taxes to the Romans? This was their question.
Didn't you, as the infinite, know their foul intention?
If you say, You should give, they would ask you, You knew, Why should
If you say, you should not, you knew you'd be misunderstood.
Pitying on their stubbornness, you called them hypocrites.
Their minds, like a troubled pond, were full of perception splits.
Though descended from heaven, weren't you a human citizen?
They knew that if you wished, you could have been the sovereign.
Give away! Give up! Give back to each one his or her right
In ignorance-filled obstinacy, you said, Do not fight.
Spent Treasure
Julius Caesar desired Brittania
not its tin for soldiers weaponry
but for an island strung with pearls
the rarest and most prized of gems
he would face the channel storms
Caesar’s lust for jewels and gold
with captives sent to plunder banks
shuck icy rivers’ mussel stores
and freeze for gods of vanity
to secure the emperor's fame
a cuirass made of British pearls
he laid on Venus Genetrix
ancestor of the Julian line
holy mother of the Roman state
could tempt a queen into his bed
reserved for the nobility alone
set within crown jewels to come
adornment for Elizabethan gowns
protected now so few remain
it’s rare to find a pearl or humble shell.
Wide-eyed, hopeless, there he staggers
In his back a dozen daggers
Dying, toga turning red
You too Brutus? Caesar said
With a rescue package that won’t pick up
Being steadily hit by a hiccup
And prices jacking up
Should we still treat him like a hero
Who has scored a shameful zero?
Still him obediently follow
And this taking to tomorrow?
Ourselves consoling with laughs hollow
And him sparing a ripe bellow?
Or isn’t the disappointing Hero
Some sort of Caesar Nero
A name penned with common biro?
An emperor named Julius Caesar
Used to pluck his fine hairs with a tweezer --
When media just giggled
Caesar wriggled and wiggled --
Said: "My wife hates them ~ I try to please her
My ode to tax season ...
With compelling circumstance
thousands flocking to our door
braving elements of chance
what does new year have in store?
As they enter our domains
follow adverts’ beckoning
is there hope for addled brains
as they face their reckoning?
***
7/26/2020
sooth said to Caesar
sire beware the Ides of March-
assassins martyr'd
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
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