Best Pompey Poems

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And sadly...i start to drive.
Through the unremarkable village with its tall 
Georgian Bay window panes, lightless,
devoid of visages; outwardly staring back at my 
Abject countenance with detached contempt and utter disdains.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And i start...

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*Image of Julius Caesar by QDT.

The Ides of March

Spun spells pummel our Earth ... as a Sun scanned absence swallow,
vacuumed blues taxes light once deemed eternal ... plus righteousness,
escapism from existence ... edges evacuation,

Birth ere the latter days ... ventured the laurels that were Rome,
the...

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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...

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The Great Falls of the northern Plains is actually a chain of five seperate waterfalls
varying in height and majesty extending over 12 miles,
they also confirm that the right river was chosen,
we had hoped that the necessary portage of boats and supplies
would take no more than...

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At work it was
slack- not much to
do,
The boss was out on
the prowl. 
We have to look busy
no matter what
His face was all of
a scowl.

I had the misfortune
to pick up a paper
A paper someone
bought for their
break,
The boss he saw- and
he descended on me
The shock made my
knees...

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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...

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Pay heed to those deeds from whence the heart must confess...
You're far from Rome Proconsul Caesar...
As they say, "All roads lead to Rome" Ariovistus
and all tresspasses are treated as threats of war...
My recent conquest of your Gaulish pets the Aedui
is justified by the right of...

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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...

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Who am I? I am not Fred Flintstone, nor am I Billy Goat Gruff,
And I am not Will Shakespeare, nor a Scotsman named MacDuff;
I am not Tom, I am not Dick, and surely am not Harry;
Not Goldilocks, not Tiny Tim, nor Mary Quite Contrary;
I am...

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At work it was slack- not much to do,
The boss was out on the prowl. 
We have to look busy no matter what
His face was all of a scowl.

I had the misfortune to pick up a paper
A paper someone bought for their break,
The boss he...

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After: "Letter of Mithridates to Phraates, King of Parthia"
Historiae VI by Sallust 
*****************************

I am a man more poisoned against than poisoning.
 That’s my version anyhow, and I’m sticking to it.
Don’t blame me for having survived a few meals
Which others, less fortunate, could not.

All that doesn’t...

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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...

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I will take you to this mountain
where you’ll see remains of Pompey...

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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...

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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...

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