Caesar... then Pompey...
marvel… sense the butterflies...
… monarchy's absence
The ruling party's eternal line: Warriors brightly shine,
Their battlefield triumphs necessarily fine.
Yet crown them as statesmen, heroics diminish,
Often resulting in ignominious finishes.
Caesar defeated Pompey, returning home to cheers,
Ambition rent them on 'kind Brutus' dagger of tears.
George Washington led America in battle victorious,
Before fathering scores of slave-offspring inglorious.
Andrew Jackson cut down Indian raiders -- so daring and risky,
Fueled by his addiction to grain alcohol whiskey.
Up San Juan Hill Teddy Roosevelt's Horsemen did charge,
As roughly as into the White House he later did barge.
***************
And now that military heroes no longer become Presidents--
Only foibles and flaws distinguish current Oval Office residents.
Where have all tne beauiful words gone?
The skipping rhythms,
Tangled in luscious forms,
That painted movies in our minds.
And does it matter?
If all that left is,
Weary eyed concrete spirits.
Slobbering over free verse confessions.
And what of us ?
Are we just a cliche?
A product of poetry stagnation.
Cowards who never hold anyone to account.
What child can recite a modern poetry line?
Is there a purpose to all this scribbling?
Free expression turns to vapour,
Under the heat of a questioning mind.
Maybe today is poetry's pompey?
Born the daughter of a Lemhi Shoshone chief
she was captured by the Hidatsa in her teens.
And sold to the Mandan Missouri River tribe
where she met and married Toussaint Charbonneau.
A French Canadian trapper and a trail guide
Charbonneau was familiar with the region.
Meriwether Lewis and William Clark spent a
winter with the Mandan waiting for the spring thaw.
Toussaint and Sacagawea were hired as their guides
and in 1805 they set out to explore the wilderness.
While on the trail she gave birth to her son Pompey
and strapping him to a cradle-board they trudged on.
A strong woman and a gifted interpreter
known for her perseverance and resourcefulness.
Bird Woman helped to persuade many native tribes
of the peaceful intent of the expedition.
Once a canoe capsized jeopardizing all of
their valuable possessions and journal entries.
Yet she saved the logbooks of this epic journey
including the navigational charts and maps.
A legendary figure in history she
was indispensable to Lewis and Clark’s trek.
And today She’s honored on a golden dollar
a rare coin issued by the United States Mint.
The Ides of March
are no different than of October
just seven months older
and perhaps, a little bit colder.
And had Caesar only stayed away
from the Curia of Pompey
that day
he might have lived, perhaps, a little bit longer.
© October 15, 2015
The rubicon is crossed,
thirteenth legion for glory.
Augustan,publico pro bono,
behold the untold story.
Marched into all Rome,
flags of the republic burn.
Demons threaten his name,
and say they shall return.
All hail justice reborn!,
Caesar, men will know fear.
Battle drums retired now,
nobody guarding the frontier.
Bingeing under empire skies,
baths with foreigners galore.
Wavering peace for the rich,
an abolishment of the poor.
The years passed quickly,
Cicero's return with his scars.
Trampled Rome so defenseless,
once again burning under stars.
Hung from the Romulus gate,
tyrant now in history's stones.
Curia of Pompey never tainted,
with Julius Ceaser's bones.
She sets my heart aflutter
So much so I wish she would mutter
Those words "I do"
In front of onlookers in a pew
My heart says it can be so
My mind says it is a no
Should I continue to try
Lock it inside refusing to cry
Her tricks put me
In some stage of glee
Her tricks go tell
My heart straight to hell
I play hard to get
But hope she will not forget
I pursue her to no end
My heart I will have to mend
The power struggle between heart and brain
Is larger than one Caesar and Pompey could maintain
Although in a few months we depart
I cannot deny my heart
But I am young
I should get over it
But wish to hear those words flutter from her tongue
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