Sunday, March 4, 2012

Romans

All roads lead to Rome, they say--
But the legions,
In their breast plates,
With their red plumes, and brilliant strategies,

Are screwed VII ways to Sunday,
Dead beneath the gravel,
Knocked flat by fat babies
And little black crickets.

Dandelion-seed emperors,
Ladies whose looks went centuries ago,
Dust-mouthed senators;
Their domes are as empty as old flower pots.

Beyond this gate,
There is a horse in a paddock
And laundry on a line.
What fool put them so close together?
I don't know...

All I'm sure of,
Is that the grass here smells sweet,
The sunset is pretty,
And that I want more than anything

To feel my back against the post,
Your lips against mine,
And your fingertips at my cheek.

Do what the sleeping legions can't do--
Open the gate, sweet honey,
And pass through.

______

for Kenia's photo challenge at Real Toads. The bottom photo is hers.

Written while drinking Bolthouse Farms vanilla chai tea, which I am convinced helps me to be creative. It's irrelevant whether this is true. It only matters that I *believe* that it is true!

21 comments:

Mama Zen said...

Um, could you pass me a Bolthouse? Wow!

Cloudia said...

it KILLS me that you are not FAMOUS!!!!!

wow. such amazing humor, poetry, and smarts!

Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral

>< } } ( ° >

hedgewitch said...

One thing you can say about the Romans--they knew how to fall. Love the clever touches here--the roman numeral, the mingling of conversational with classic styles and comparisons, and most of all the heart that can't stop yearning, and sheds so much light and warmth in the process. Shine on---and keep drinking that stuff, whatever it is.

Sioux said...

"...dust-mouthed senators" and the last three lines--gorgeous.

I've seen that in the store, after you mentioned it before. Do you mean to say that if we drink the same stuff Shay drinks, we'll write like Shay?

Me think not.

Margaret said...

I "second" Hedewitch's comments above! If I was able to participate, I was drawn to this photo as well...

Visited Sebastian today and as I was approaching him a big yellow butterfly fluttered by (it's just the beginning of March!) I tried to get a photo, but couldn't follow it past the fence... and when I saw this photo ... well, I am tempted, but I have a few more days to go before I am back from my blogger break.

Brian Miller said...

open the gate and pass on through...mmm...now doesnt that sound nice...like the post at the back as well, firm...nice on all the roman stuff too but its your end that is sweet...

Kenia Cris said...

Every word in every poem of yours sing an fascinating song to me. :)

Thanks for participating. <3

Mystic_Mom said...

Wow...rockin' it girl! Wah!

HermanTurnip said...

Direct, observant, and approachable. Very fine piece. Loved the way you ended it with open finality. I give this one 9.5 heart valve stents out of 10!

Joanna Jenkins said...

Nice, nice, nice... THe Roman VII was a nice touch too.

Hope you're doing good. Have a great week, xo jj

Susie Clevenger said...

Oh my I love this...

Herotomost said...

And my thighs go up in flames....and I am a man. This was crisp and edgy and sensual and perfect really. Whew....yeah...loved it.

Matt D said...

Excellent and beautiful, with a sense of time and delicacy.

Old Ollie said...

You master of imagery you!

Kerry O'Connor said...

The last three lines bring all the roman legionary imagery into a bang! smack-in-the-face perspective. Brilliant writing on a feeling level.

Marion said...

Sigh. Oh, how I love Stevie. Her voice is the soundtrack of my youth. Fabulous write and amazing song. Thanks for sharing. xo

Heaven said...

I like the last two verses...the gate as metaphor has a lot of meaning ~

Ella said...

I love the expressive tone in your words! Yes, let's jail break it and run through ;D

Bravo!

myheartslovesongs said...

personally, i don't think it matters WHAT you are drinking ~ your worst is so far above my best and, let's face it, you just canNOT write anything less than a killer poem!

the ending was sweeeeeeet!

Lolamouse said...

Love how you've been getting your Stevie on lately! This is fantastic! The Roman numeral is a sweet touch!

turtlememoir said...

ah well... "gorgeous" I wanted to say, but that doesn't half cut it - I so love everything about this, the imagery, the way your poem completely falls out of Kenia's image, and maybe especially the ways the legions

Are screwed VII ways to Sunday,
Dead beneath the gravel,
Knocked flat by fat babies
And little black crickets.

Dandelion-seed emperors,
Ladies whose looks went centuries ago,
Dust-mouthed senators;
Their domes are as empty as old flower pots.


Yes. And the ending, so sweet...