Plutarch Poems | Examples


Premium MemberThe Magic of Worthwhile

Writers write to master the minds
like mine to master, be thines,
5th century Greek writers Patriarch
Herodotus, Thucydides and Plutarch.

They savor the flavor, 'Land Battles', be
Persia and Greece, intro 5th century.

Persian priests', called it magosh, then,
Greeks termed the word magoi when
it changed to mageia and then magika,
hence, precedes that illusion, magical. 

The battle itself was a point of focus,
but in reality, 'twas an uprising tempest,
all that matters merely meant confusion,
purpose the word, magic, sort of illusion.

At the start, a keen preceptor will take,
while the rest, smoke and mirror, mistake
goal to amuse, jam and jelly seize a fainted
a riddle connects the dots, numbers painted
a true picture of the taken as the takers smile
'MAGIC', those who knew & misknew, worthwhile.
Categories: plutarch, character, confusion, fun, happiness,
Form: Rhyme

No Bird ever soared in a calm

How can I fly like a bird he dreamed
this man and his brother, with little formal education.
So they dreamed and watched,
they studied and read.
Dickens and Twain, Virgil and Plutarch also.

They worked hard in Dayton and Kitty Hawk too
and they never stopped, the focus the same,
how can I fly like a bird.

So they tried and they failed
and tried again - and failed
and they failed - and they learned
and their focus remained the same,
how can I fly like a bird?

It was never easy, never for sure
because no bird ever soared in a calm.

With little help and little attention
they remained focused.
Supported only by profits from
their small bike shop —
they continued on.

Until one day
on a windy, rough day,
on an isolated stretch of beach at Kitty Hawk,
they flew like a bird.
with an engine they built
and a plane they designed so many times.

To capture the spirit of so many others
to fly in the skies of Paris
and finally in the skies near DC.
These brothers, humble in outlook
but focused in demeanor,
lived their dream to fly like a bird - 
because no bird ever soared in a calm.
Categories: plutarch, history, inspirational,
Form: Free verse


Poverty

“An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment
 of all republics.”              ~Plutarch, Greek Philosopher and historian.

Poor people living on the fringes of society
Obscure existence, day to day struggle
Verily, abandoned by the mainstream
Eking out a meager and hapless livelihood
Reared in the roadside shanty hovels
Tortured by their fate, ignored by their gods, 
Yes, poverty is the scourge of our times.


~03/27/23
~Contest: Writing Challenge 'P' words
~sponsor: Constance La France.
Categories: plutarch, poverty,
Form: Acrostic

The Paranoia Poetry Club Revisited

Got my Dictionary of Quotations,
The Greek Myths of Robert Graves,
Plutarch for beginners’
How The Ancient World Behaves;

Back at the Paranoia Poetry Club,
Local Intellectual Branch
And that collection of books
Might just give me a chance
Of understanding the words and
What on earth they’re talking about
Because the first time I went 
I understood precisely nowt.

Must spoke with cultured voices, 
Some rambled and some muttered,
Word following word following word
Crammed and packed and cluttered.  
But all spoken with confidence
About what they felt mattered
And, my ignorance being exposed,
I sat both deflated and shattered

I’ve got the book of Popular Philosophy
The Book of Modern Scientific thought
Gambling on the hope and presumtion
That wisdom can be bought.
Categories: plutarch, humor,
Form: Rhyme

Premium MemberImprison Me

Beware the dark of azure twilight
where lightning's arc will lure the sprite,
their wings, so stark, like velour midnight,
fair creature's that mark the allure of starlight.

Share thy tongue sweet lark in pure delight.
There, where spark of amour and passions ignite,
fair, the heart will embark on seas of obscure rite;
ensnare me, oh Plutarch, immure my soul with your insight.


06/28/2020


Triple Rhyme Poetry Contest
Hosted by: Beth Evans
Categories: plutarch, emotions, fantasy,
Form: Rhyme


Premium MemberSpirit Species

"To the Dolphin alone, beyond all other, nature has granted what the best philosophers seek: friendship for no advantage" - Plutarch

        ~

water ...
as home to me as air
to slip through the day like ether
the cool aqua hugging
bounty of life and wonder and joy
depths as dark as midnight
mysteries of a fathomless complexity, keen
let my spirit run the waves!
let me bound and frolic the reefs and rolls!
let me breathe the air, divine
and sing to the stars, reflecting ...
let me stir the phosphorescent brine
and paint the sullen swells with glowing magic!
let me fill my gut with salty abundance
and dance atop the foamy blue ...
sweet sun on my back
and my pod about me in joyous fellowship!
laughing, smiling, thinking, playing ... Calypso's caretaker
I am of the sea, and the sea is of me
we are as one as the moon and moonlight
I am its lover and liege ...
it is my food and family ...
I am the bearer of its grace
its conduit to the air
the ocean's playful paramour
diving ... dancing ... daring ...
dolphin!







~ 1st Place ~  in the "Brian's Select 9, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories: plutarch, animal, appreciation, sea,
Form: Free verse

Peloponnesian Placepo'

And so life comes to pass
Plato, the Republic, and the riposte of revenge
Knowing history can never fully extend
The Socratic palm of philosophy’s heavy hand
Poisoned by power's thirst for peaceful Persian seas
Which stir lush groves of crimson and Thebian thieves
As sparkling city-states crumble and empires feast
Rome culling the culture crush of golden Greece
Where Herodotus fathered and Plutarch bleeds
Tales of battles, generals, and Hellenic greed
That perhaps Alexander was but a minion of means
Simply a soldier of death's deciduous seed
Born to pass hereditary titles to war's widowed lands
Endlessly reaping the accolades of conquering man
Somehow sown in the tomes of Aristotelian prose
Even construed as a catharsis of glory’s godless throes
So perhaps, someday, conquest will become nothing more
Than tragedy misquoting the late...great...Edgar Allan Poe
Categories: plutarch, allegory, confusion, introspection, life,
Form: Free verse
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