In Sparta, we take care of our own.
We will die before we are done.
Shields to bash, spears to gash,
from hell to oblivion.
We fight for Peloponnesia and the Polis
with blood and phalanx,
till the battle is won.
The women are warriors
who also bear us daughters and sons.
Should she die in childbirth
then a warrior's funeral comes that one.
We will put them up
to match any warrior of the Amazon.
This is how it shall forever be, how it has always been.
If we are no more on this earth,
then for each other we will live on.
The hammer rises
The sickle moves to mow down…
Ukraine Europe’s shield
The USSR reborn
Never did disintegrate.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Ancient tales slashed our vineyard,
We were the bloodshed of love...
Cupid fleshed our hearts.
Austere eyesights.
Fierce catch upon your mark,
Am your prey in the love arena...
I escort this frugal lover.
His achillean personality enchants every man,
I am the residue of my manhood...
Close the cishet doors,
Let the cue tip-off,
You will be my man besides the world.
Two kings for a kingdom.
Spartans courageous men standing,
Shoulder to shoulder on the battlefield.
Immortal warriors of the past
With King Leonidas by their side
A hero born for this day.
As proclaimed by the gods.
With their shields burning fiercely with flames of fire.
Reaching out to embrace the enemy,
And their weapons honed on blood and bones.
From eternal battles, hardening their hearts to stone.
Tempering their souls into cold steel.
Grinding their heels deeply into the ground.
Relentlessly united in defending their cultural ideals.
Or to die and be carried back to Sparta upon their shields. I demand a critic.
The spartans are up to uphill the hill.
The spartans do not retreat nor surrender.
The ability to unveiled the veiled.
The power to over see the unseen.
Yes am a spartan.
A spartan of my life.
A spartan to the end of time.
Yes am a spartan.
Am a top notch spartan.
A spartan who strain every nerve to appear on top.
Yes am spartan.
Don`t try me, cos am little like an ant but a lion in display.
What the Spartans of
each country need is
their own legendary
hero Leonidas.
Volodymyr Knyr
2014
To Commemorate My 300th Poem Here On The Soup
300 Solomons
300 Beacons
300 Spartans
300 Martyrs
300 Tales Done
300 Threads Spun
300 Heartsongs
300 Touchstones
300 Scheherazade
Only 700 More, GOD
and Wherever YOU Beam Me
10,000 More, Gleam Me
- - - - - - - - - -
… I Have Lost 200 Poems
But Here Are 300
Because I Open My Arms
To Inspiration Undaunted …
“ Pancakes, Preserves, Poached-Egg & Pork
Maple-Syrup, Milk and Sun-Motes In The Morn
Calling My Name, Just Like Flapjacks To A Fork
Psyche Is Picking Up Poems, Like Babies Just Born “
- - - - - - - - - -
A Childhood Poem Remembered …
I See The Moon
and The Moon Sees Me
GOD Bless The Moon
and GOD Bless Me
… and Long Live, The Love Of Poetry …
The MoonBee
Spartans trained their children for war,
They practiced all day until they were worn,
Their typical meal was black broth and pork,
It gave them energy for the dangerous war.
Spartan girls were trained for sports,
The ephors, made laws that were enforced,
Spartan women were freer than others,
And were trained to be loyal mothers.
Spartans controlled the Helots for 250 years,
Of course the Spartans had nothing to fear,
Throughout the war many people died,
This is how the Spartans lived their lives.