Striding into and under the town
gate's
Two brother's came a riding
wolf back
Searching for a capital city on
which to build an empire forth
Subjugating the masses into subject's
And the battled conquered into
slavery
Ceaser , Emperor , Senator
Pretorians , Centurions , Gladiator
at the ready to guard the faith
From pagan diety to singularity
theologians
And so usher in the origins of
Catholicism and the Holy Bible
To build a church opon the basis
of the teachings of the Jew once
crucified named Jesus
Who entered Jerusalem astride
a donkeys back to heal the
sick and poor and speak of
love and forgiveness
Who ended up becoming
Jesus of the new Jerusalem
Who's capital still to this day
is based in Rome be that
Vatican City
Ever since and before the
dark ages of enlightenment
Be it good or then bad…
defined after the fact
Acceptance—rejection,
a dog or a cat
The goals of Centurions,
or those of a Priest
Different agendas,
a moveable feast
Be it virtue or vice,
their adherents will claim
Then shout from the rafters,
to freely rename
But in for a penny,
or out for a pound
A lasting consensus
—will never be found
(St. David’s Pennsylvania: October, 2020)
My arborvitae, silent, stalwart centurions,
Mark land's end at home,
Keeping that enchanted world safe from intrusion,
And from them many birds do roam.
Lacy green fingers reaching to the sky,
Wrapped in a magic aura of cedar scent,
Their stolid beauty bows to the breezes that pass by,
Strength and surrender at once as they bent.
These friendly guardian angels make me smile,
For they've thrived in such a short while,
Robust and hearty yet elegant,
Watching them grow, my life shall happily be spent.
M. Renee Taylor
4-29-2010
The Citizens danced
Romulus cried
Centurions posed
in Legions wide
“The world is ours”
they said in glee
“And death to those
who don’t concede”
The past unyielding
future loaned
The present flew
like David’s stone
Their party ending
candles burnt
With spoils poisoned
lessons spurned
And history writes
that in a day…
What once was Rome
was cast astray
Whose legend carved
in stone reminds
What young Narcissus
hoped to find
The glory that once
ruled the world
Now left in rubble
myth unfurled
As time awaits
to stalk our path
That wolf inside
—as history laughs
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
Once again you slide inside
to chiv me,
to stick me with a blade.
Cold steel is not
when your blood's running hot
but the signals get mixed
then we're fixed
fine? it's dandy.
You don't feel the stiletto
as it tiptoes in and your
life falls out,
and I thought it was
all about that.
Centurions in Century city
reaching out to the witty,
the pithy
and are you with me?
okay,
it's okay
I
lose it too.
On a heading due West,
of oblivion
colliding with starlets
like Vivien.
that's Leigh in case you were wondering.
no escaping
just scraping
the bottom of the barrel
the cider tastes better down here.
curtains
the curtain torn
is the light exposed..
as centurions all
we carry dark curtains
concealing our light..
exposure might come
with shock and awe
or right now
in a quiet pause...
(ref: Matthew 27)
In ruined scatter witnessing the greys into black
Why has it come to this as us humans finally lack
Through my eyes bloodied looking down on such
Crossed I've become in frenzied scarred mode
As to I I'm in awe as to the I that fuses
Centurions from Legions brave, showing confuse
To my left to my right seeing said damnest like I
In wondering their theirs as to their paraded
Mirrored like I that they require I be masqueraded
The tolling bell has spoken as I enter my demise
As I hang above paradise seeing cawing crows fly
Images of my existence, forever, eternally why
Oh! What a weary world of woe
To see a pious man, laid low
A pitiless look, from Godless eyes
Barabbas luck, means His demise
His destiny, to be betrayed
That Judas kiss, a liar made
A King of Kings, in paupers clothes
A Crown of Thorns, His sweet repose
For He’s no friend of mine, he cried
Three times condemned, three times denied
Wash clean the sins, from guiltless hands
A barbaric end, the mob demands
Your truth lies closer to the bone
Your fate is theirs and theirs, alone
They claim you, as their King of Jews
Is this the epitaph, you choose
Her dream, her life, her wondrous joy
Her son, her blood, her little boy
Her pleas for mercy, peal in vain
As blood falls from his face, as rain
Not wanting, of His pains to blur
He drinks not of the Wine and Myrrh
To lay His life down, for mankind
The Heavens weep its Angels blind
A final thrust, centurions spear
The Miracle of Christ is clear
Released from Earthly bonds, His prison
The third day down, the Lord is Risen…
Hair today, gone tomorrow, it's starting to thin really fast
Thought I'd be one of those centurions with locks down past my ass
Think again, old fellow
You're starting to turn yellow
Don't want to pass on till my youthful appearance does pass
© Jack Ellison 2015
From: Governor Silva, Lucias Flavius
To: Commander, Legio X "Fretensis"
The Judean slaves finally finished the assault ramp.
Order the centurions to roust the legionnaires from each camp.
Give each of your legionnaires extra water and a double ration,
Then assemble the squares and set them in motion.
The last of the defenders are cowering behind the wall.
Well before nightfall, I should expect Masada fortress to fall.
Among Eleazar Ben Yair's Zealots are Sicarii assassins,
So ensure that each prisoner taken is searched for hidden weapons.
Capture as many as you can of them to be sold for slaves;
But toss all their dead off the cliffs--don't bother digging graves.
It may still be awhile before the Tenth Legions rotates back home;
When that day comes, I'm sure Vespasian will honor you all before Rome.
well, my mother loved to visit miss Peggy's place
yes, they talk about this and that but
still, Miss Peggy had several
spaded black cats in her place and
mother would ask her three young boys
to come out and visit Miss Peggy's house
unfortunately,
i
was the only one
brave enough to say that i have
a deep fear inside my chest that sing out
then I said, mama
i
am really scared of
those
big black cats are creeping around
in
Miss Peggy's house
the black cats looked like
centurions guards and griffins
standing along the
halls and stairs,
with
their marble red eyes and
white Cheshire smiles and
i
cried when mama
said
boy you come over here
and
give Miss Peggy a nice big juicy kiss and a fat hug
i
finally screamed out loud
and
said
mama
i
am really scared of
those
big black cats in Miss Peggy's house
and
that
Miss Peggy's has a thick black mustache
and
i
did not want to kiss her strange lips
will
i
I was unable to pass through.
Miss Peggy's house anymore
On a wisp of wattle
that cradled in the fig,
a dreaming began
as sleep draped veils
to nurture a gleam into
dazed eyes,
as mantles of moonbeam
wreath temples
I fell to,
A gathering cluster
that saturated all reality,
a sculptor with tool
set about carving
a bird of paradise
as form finished
it flew away
A dove birthed
from a painters brush
and wiggled free to
splash the canvas
of black
staining its feathers
in obsidian
from centurions
I am gifted a
mariners compass,
they lead me to three rivers
setting sail
like the hunter after hare,
the cross and crown
my guiding lights
my keel wedged
on flying fish,
once soaring
times hand pulled
me to dock with face
now,
so weary I sleep
endless tomorrows,
and will drift awake
as the phoenix
morphs to crane
infinitesimal stars
will emblazon my hair
with constellations
as I regather from
the comforts of reverie
—-
and every now and then,
seeing miniature worlds
on specks of wonderment
will remind me,
that I am just dream-weaving
through southern lights
Unto the mount of calvery where once the cross was raised
I bow my head in honor, servitude and praise
This mount where once the Savior took the cross for me
My sins far to many for me to count
Of each one he set me free.
His tears fell upon the stones beneath
I kneel down to touch
To find a last remaining trace
Of my Lord's precious fallen blood
As my own tears pour forth, onto my cheek they slip
I feel the unimaginable, the lashes of the whip
I see the stations of the cross
His face imprinted upon the shroud
The viscious blows of centurions
The cowardice of the crowds
His falls under the heavy cross
The way he still re-took his stand
The cuts and bruises on his face
The splinters in his hands
How did I forget all this?
Such pain and suffering
And without a word of mercy
He did all this for me
I reclaim my lost unpaid debt
The promise to remember
To celebrate the birth of Christ
To forget my Saviour never
I raise my eyes up to the sky
The place of his ascent
The Holy throne, the crown of thorns
Fulfilled
Thy Testament
Optio's! Centurions! Lend me your ears
But finish your rations and down your beers
For tommorow awaits the adventure of a life time
We battle our enemies for many bloody crimes
So tonight go home and bed your wives
Because some of you will lose your lives
Fill your bellies and admire your friends
For they will follow you to all your ends