Short Gladiators Poems

Two in a matchbox
Grasshopper and scorpion
and the winner is?...

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The boys of football
     Enter in warrior garb
Fall gladiators...

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Gladiators fought-
In circular glory. Now-
All is deathly still....

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Onlookers stamp and shriek for blood
Wanting gruesome
Hoping for death
Gladiators face off
Not wanting to disappoint thrill seekers...

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Football is
Bruised bone of eager drums
and young teeth tasting
the blood of giants in 
this game of gladiators
under the scarlet
flag of fall.

7/31/19...

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Once there was an intellect called smoke, the philosopher
Architect of a new republic of peace by dare
Shunting viruses by tolerance
Eliminating interferences by endurance
Bloody this domain is for gladiators...

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GOLD MINES

It is not far away nor is it near
Its treasures are lost because of fear

Where men of the time are fully made
Gladiators are they without blood or frail

Where can it be that I mayest see
O! My mind enrobed in majesty...

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The weight of all the ants in the world is greater
Than all us humans, think someone's off their tater
How does one figure this out
Maybe it's just a thereabout
Or some guy spends his life counting ants and us gladiators...

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Come all freedom fighters
Come all you who are fighters; soldiers and gladiators of freedom
Come, lets gang up and fight tight close
Lets lock our shield together tightly
Come, lets be one and hold tight
Come stay close and fight valiantly
For us it is freedom or death...

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Of chorus lines puppet strings voodoo dolls as clown parades....
White cheeks dimpled smiles black ties affairs with, chichi crowns ?
Gladiators vying for world supremacy whileas muppets generals their
Daughters sip upon brandy to alleviate numb the truth in father's legacy....

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the hunger gang is at it again…

on the fields
and in the arenas,
we are their prized 
gladiators:
predators and prey;

on the streets,
chilling in the hood,
we are their prized
game---
hungry prey
for the hungry
hunters:

we gladiators
must now 
up our game....

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Flavian Amphitheatre
the ultimate Roman colosseum
built by Vespasian
Dedicated in 80 ce

She seated fifty thousand spectators
calling for the blood of gladiators
possibly watching Christians get devoured by lions
bloodthirsty sports
Ancient Rome’s proof of lingering corruption and cruelty...

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Taking Canada's Game To The World

Gladiators on ice,
Taking Canada’s game to the World.
A nation’s heroes at war:
From Vancouver Island to Newfoundland,
And from Tuktoyaktuk to Iqaluit,
And places in-between!
Canada’s team, who will it be?
(P.S.) I say, “Go Winnipeg Jets!”...

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At the sound of the bell,
the boxing arena trembles;
the crowd's maniacal roar
explodes as a thunderclap.

Blood-crazed predators,
these gloved gladiators;
fiercely glaring, rushing,
breathing murderous rage.

Altar of wealth, vanity,
hurried sign of the cross,
hastily mumbling to God
of mercy...a bloodied prayer!...

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Hopeful in the face of defeat
Outlasting their opponents
Urging the fans into frenzy
Standing the test of time
Taking every play to the limit
Offensively growing each season
Name bringing smile to faces

Team united toward a goal
Each player working as one
Xenium to the Lone Star State
Aggressively seeking victory
Never quitting always fighting
Sunday gladiators...

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Sunday soldiers march down
march upon frozen ground.
Cavalier brutes mighty wall
winter warriors standing tall.

Gladiators battling in rain
battle for yards to gain.
Pursuit of righteous might
pursue weakened foes tonight.

Hesitant heroes final stand
finally swept from the land.
Defeated enemies fighting done
Conquerors glorious war is won.


(click on the pic to purchase my poetry book!)...

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I chose to be a Christian.
Denial was no option.
I must bear witness.
Roman soldiers inquired,
“Do you follow Jesus Christ?”
My fate knew no fear.
Yes, He is the Son of God.
Forcefully, I was taken.
Oh, coliseum,
Bring forth thy gladiators.
I will not fight to the death.
Eternity, come!

ã June 2, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Choka for a Choke Hold
Sponsored by Amy Green...

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Masterpiece of an Indio
Legacy of one native Bravo

As I gaze at the piece
Memories of gladiators seize
Under the roofs of soft floors
Are bloodsheds on hard, scratched floors

Have you ever wondered
Why warriors are devoid?
Of worldly possessions unplundered
Die with swords unparanoid

Heroes or heels are subjects
Painted in oil, not Aztecs
Brushed and colored in blood
Mustache of a Maestro in a cloud...

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Lovers then we became strangers
now full blown adversaries
enemies
gladiators armored for destruction.
This is no longer a relationship
it is a ruthless affair
a house of cards
kill zone
minefield 101.
Words sharp than machetes
actions colder than waterboarding
we massacred us
we are locked up in solitary confinement
you the king of North
and this Nubian Monarchy is mine.
To the last Iron and Crown standing
its game on!...

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I smoke a blunt
barricaded from the harsh sunlight
by a striped canopy.

You're taking a shower,
I daydream of full-length mirrors,
and soapy brown skin.

The post card in my hand
depicts the Roman Colosseum.
Gladiators are still hopelessly fighting time.

It's 1985
the world, as usual,
spins on like a tossed coin.

Make love while you can.
Find the lady in the shower,
wherever she is,

don't just sit there!

...

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Hoards of men do battle on my shelf
Plastic soldiers, poised will militant
Resolve to seek out and destroy their 
Enemy- Sometimes I see their real!

Amongst them two gladiators fight
To the death their locked – defined
By their makers dream- so I play along
And choose to believe that they are real!

When they are real my mind is keen
Lively meaning sprouts from all I see
Sometimes their simply plastic on my shelf
Imagination locked until its dead!...

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Slipping from this flesh it's bones as blood
Nothing and nobody His child, within her world
Of glamour, glitter, super stars and fame; power games
Ancient gladiators their off spring these red carpet queens ivory table
Kings vote for me ? Phantasmagoria's, kaleidoscopic dreams Pluto's papacy
Pandora's pallbearers trip wire caskets bring it on, krimson kong: lightning strikes....
The blink of an eye; crumbling towers with your power black roses bloom in blue carousel pews....

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