Outpost of Empire for Friend Thad
It’s clear that archaeology.
Can tell us of the history
of long forgotten Roman forts.
From evidence of many sorts.
Broken shards of Samian Ware.
Which turn up almost everywhere
can tell within a year or two
the date when they were brought here new.
Foundation walls that still remain
when deciphered make it plain.
That this was a most important site.
Our findings greeted with delight.
Vinovia a Roman fort
is much, much older than was thought.
13-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Roman Polanski: What is There to Debate? Whether Rape is Rape-Rape?
I know he is great director.
I know that he had great stresses in his life from childhood on.
I know that he had won countless awards for his cinema, his ‘magic’ and his craft.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
I know that there was something in his psyche that little girls had done.
I know what rape means, it is control, and it’s been 32 years ago,
- he had control or am I daft.
She said “No, no, I want to go home”
“It’s been so long ago”, his fans do say.
It is sort of like meth head saying,
“I promised you $400 for that guitar I bought you from last year,
But not in future and not today.”
And the infamous Bill Clinton line
-'It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is. “
That one still confounds me still to this day.
(But not as much as Caitlin Upton’s response when she was asked a question in a pageant about geography I do recall.)
Roman Polanski is a fugitive from the law.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator
The French blame the US level of justice.
Roman elected to live in the US not France,
Do in Rome what the Romans do.
And if you ‘play’ you have to pay.
And if by chance,
You run afoul of the country’s law pity the fool.
His next stop is a prison cell door.
Especially, when you are a 40+ year old man taking advantage of a 13 year old girl.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
Roman Polanski gave her alcohol and Quaaludes,
Consensual sex, hardly it behooves the point,
Someone should lock him up for the next 32 years in the joint.
Roman’s violation of the law is not only against her,
But it is a violation against the People of California,
And consequently, the People of the United States.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
If Roman Polanski is not extradited,
- then a part of millennia of common moral law is about to fail.
If Roman Polanski is extradited he will not go free on bail.
If he were Marc Rich and President Clinton was in power,
And if Roman Polanski gave serious money to Clinton’s Library,
Roman, like Marc Rich, could be pardoned, exonerated-either or.
Roman should pay for his abuse of a child whatever years ago,
She quite older now but the state doesn’t forget.
Especially when his lawyers instigated the recent events,
-that too do they would soon regret.
But when its all said and done,
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
10-2-09
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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A Night At The Roman Gates
The third and the last fourth quarters, made no sound at all
The first and the fourth parts built up a sound upon an old wall
There were scaffolds of gold, traces of all riches beside the fallen towers
It’s the first night at the Roman gates: the last finders are counting the lost hours
The night swift as broken spears, the beats gather into one symphony of delight
Now God watches all this closely in silence and repose
With the Jews and Gentiles sharing a common space upon the history close
Silence prevails in cold shatter: the mood is lost through the art of these ciphers
The senators walk around in silence, building up tumults of joy to all the lifers
It’s a night at the Roman gates: the moon await in splendor and in vivified sight
History walks around tombs of ancient queens, paving words on golden wings
Still memory sweeps this silent night, and places owned before by ROMAN Kings
02-03 March 2008, a first to the collection: 'History Unbound'
poem by Sicelo Sithole
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Above and beyond the call of duty for JT Ellison
Above and beyond the call of duty
Do Roman ghosts still guard the wall?
Far from their homelands in the sun.
I wonder if they thought at all.
They would remain their duty done.
As corpses in cold northern clay
or dreamt that they would return home.
In triumph on some distant day
to a well earned heroes welcome.
Sometimes when the blue twilight fall
I sit enrapt in reverie
and fancy that I hear their calls.
Although there’s nothing I can see.
Though one or two claim they can see
the roman sentries on patrol.
Along the wall quite frequently.
A sad parade of earth bound souls.
Who died too quick to understand
that they were dead their spirits free.
So they obey the last command
still do their duty faithfully.
Do Roman ghost still guard the walls?
I cannot answer honestly
I only know when twilight falls.
I think they might quite possibly
.15-Jul-08
http: // blog.my space.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Roman's wife Sharon Tate had been murdered by Charles Manson the year before, but Roman had been through so much leaving the Warsaw ghetto that he was very strong and private.
quote by Francesca Annis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uglatto
You ooh ooh another hairdo mobutu shoes
This roman nose
Yourre uglatto
You grin like a star
The grille of a car
Fat oldsmobilo
A puffed potato
This roman say ugh-latto
You a bad tomato speak esperanto
So desperato and constipato
This roman nose
Youre uglatto
Why do you wiggle so you make me
Want to ho ho in front of people
You are so uglatto
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Forgotten Soldier
The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Scarred for all eternity. Searching for divinity. Prayer yet to be answered. Smoking has just brought cancer. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Looking for forgiveness in all the wrong places. So many name and so many faces. An anecdotal pun he has become. A history lesson has been undone. Wars never can be won. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. In his eyes lies the blood of many. Sleepless nights of sacrifice and murder. And in the end their is no one to comfort him. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Times have changed. Now he can only wish he was flying a jet plane. Treated like dirt. Crippled and weak. And the man just turns the other cheek. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Today is his birthday and he spends it in a nursing home all alone. To all he is forgotten dead and gone. But i remember, i remember all the forgotten soldiers.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Roman Showers
Roman showers pouring on me.
My chest is filled with joy so hotly.
I love this scene so lush and thick just like a dream.
When it comes it fills a need.
A deep desire on which I feed.
It's quite beautiful but so taboo.
Why don't you come and join me too?
Let us pass in roman showers,
spilling all that we've devoured.
Sharing this will give such power.
Though some will say that it's so dour.
Don't listen to them for they are sour.
When it pours down on your face.
For everythingelse you'll lose your taste.
It gives you a feeling of such delight.
You're washed away of judging spite.
So let us partake of it this night.
Roman showers showing us brand new heights.
poem by Michael McParland
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The Roman Catholics teach that unless you're a Roman Catholic you do not go to heaven.
quote by Neale Donald Walsch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Roman Code was merely an enunciation in words of the existing customs of the Roman people.
quote by Henry James Sumner Maine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Borrowed Time
When I was younger
Living confusion and deep dispair
When I was younger ah hah
Living illusion of freedom and power
When I was younger
Full of ideas and broken dreams (my friend)
When I was younger ah hah
Everything simple but not so clear
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
Now I am older
The more that I see the less that I know for sure
Now I am older ah hah
The future is brighter and now is the hour
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
Good to be older
Would not exchange a single day or a year
Good to be older ah hah
Less complications everything clear
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
Living on borrowed time
Without a thought for tomorrow
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Became My History
You were once a mystery,
The one I loved to solve.
Deciphering your code,
Always got me lost.
I thought of understanding you more,
But before I realised it,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Discovering you was a thrill,
Every puzzle I put together,
Granted me fulfilment,
But as time flew by,
you became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Every clue brought me closer,
Every step brought me nearer,
Only to make me smile,
I thrived on your addiction
But after a while,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
the very foundation that kept me stable,
Once I comprehended you, I began to feel able,
You were the ocean to my boat,
The cell to my system,
However, even without the distance,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Clouded in question marks,
Trying to understand,
Trying to comprehend,
I was left with numerous thoughts,
The more I tried, the more I learnt,
The less I craved, and before I knew it,
You became my history.
poem by Zushan Hashmi
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When In Rome
Well, you must be from the city
'Cause you sure ain't from round here
There ain't no smoke free section
We don't sell no import beer.
You been throwin' round that attitude
Since you walked in that door
I don't know where you come from
But you ain't there anymore
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You been lookin' down your nose
At our water tower town
Ain't no one getting rich
But, there's enough to go around.
If ya don't like tracy's cookin'
Well, ya best still leave a tip
She's back there in that kitchen
With a baby on her hip.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You put your best foot forward
When you go to meet a man
Look him in the eye
And put a good grip on his hand.
Don't cuss around the ladies
Tell us how to raise our kids
We like doing business
Like our daddys, daddys did.
When you drive off in your beamer
If ya don't do 35
Don't give no lip to Beuford
Or he might just dot your eye.
And when your at the courthouse
Before Ole judge McCall
You best not say a word
About them comandments on his wall.
Naw!
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Yeah, Yeah Yeah
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Mmmm Hmmmm
Better do like us boy
Don't you come in here talking all that trash
Ya just might get your nose smashed.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Preserve Something, Just Cover It Up in Dust and Cobwebs
The house had a secret life concealed within
Though externally the surface was drab and plain,
Nothing to draw attention at all-
Dusty and dank, with every sort of stain.
But at a certain season and hour of darkness
Punctuated with rays of random moon:
The inner soul of the place came apparent
The greyness fell away and took with it the gloom.
Then the walls would blaze with a turquoise hue,
The kitchen had a lively checkerboard tile.
On the bathroom walls in the muted blue sea
The red fish and mermaids began to smile.
The scalloped mantle was glossy and white,
The wood floors shone to refect the rays,
All the crystal glass knobs and findings
Collected, throughout the long, polished days.
The house remembered the clinking of goblets
Wielded by languorous guests on the lawn;
Nights were passed long and comely,
And scattered coffee cups greeted the dawn.
Now weeds have grown up through the cracks in the walk-
The house is forgotten and falling apart
But the life that once flourished between the timbers
Is safely preserved in the house of the heart.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Brigitte
The Modern Olympic Games,
Manifested through the routes of the Gods!
So brace yourself to the troubles ahead.
Brigitte my friend,
We have the Julian Calender hanging in our rooms;
But it is part of the Roman Empire handed over to us.
Instead of the Lunar Calender,
We have the Roman Calendar!
For the Spring Time which started the year is now,
Changed to to January which is still Winter! !
All the same, the just will live by the faith.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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St. Adrian
to St. Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
a silent prayer to the Roman man
that calm man like deadly white hands
his steadfast wife even locked her door
when she thought he was like her no more
so a prayer to Adrian, saint of knights
a St. only after the lion beasts rites
to him be a morsel of honor, be it true
not more flames or a blunt corkscrew
to Saint Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
enter the night of Adrianus Incarsaurus
the holy, now, of Rome...MARTYR US!
to Saint Adrian, the saint, the beast
oh cover us, Adrian, from Abaddon and the beast
to Saint Adrian I give thanks
the dead leader of dead Roman ranks
sing your hymn with the name on your lips
or simply, silently 'Adrian' in felt tips
to him be a morsel of honor, be it true
not more flames, or unjust undo
to the leader of dead Roman ranks
to St. Adrian I give thanks
poem by Michael Cook
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Maghe
The Roman god Janus,
The Roman goddess Februa,
The Roman god of war (Mars) !
The Greek goddess of love (Aphrodite) ,
The Roman goddess of growth (Maia) ,
And Juno, the goddess of women, marriages and childbirth! !
Learn from them to know the wife of Jupiter as well;
For, we are all being saurrounded by the works of the gods and the goddesses!
The Germanic languages,
I am Maghe with the works of the secret codes of life in the land of the living;
But, very quick and eloquent is the muse of my love!
And like the acts of the god Woden in the alnd of many rivers.
The god Thunor (Thor) and the goddess Frigg,
With Old Norse like Venus the goddess of love!
But, try to learn from the old facts to push ahead with the truth always;
For, we are blindfolded to the secrets of this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Roman Road
The Roman Road runs straight and bare
As the pale parting-line in hair
Across the heath. And thoughtful men
Contrast its days of Now and Then,
And delve, and measure, and compare;
Visioning on the vacant air
Helmeted legionnaires, who proudly rear
The Eagle, as they pace again
The Roman Road.
But no tall brass-helmeted legionnaire
Haunts it for me. Uprises there
A mother's form upon my ken,
Guiding my infant steps, as when
We walked that ancient thoroughfare,
The Roman Road.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Time Rules Carved Out Empire Journeys
Darius I of Persia earlier standout stars;
having attacked conquered Ancient Egypt
built a canal linking his Persian Red Sea?
To the Mediterranean through desert sands;
Darius's canal wide enough for two triremes
to pass each other with all oars extended?
Required mere four days to canal traverse;
history turns Persian Roman Empires are extinct?
No Eastern Roman Empire now time rules?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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As the archaeology of our thought easily shows, man is an invention of recent date. And one perhaps nearing its end.
quote by Michel Foucault
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family Forgiveness
Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For the teen that use to be,
The nine year old girl whom eyes now,
Turn to water falls with the site of the bedroom,
Her daddy not to long ago tucked her in for the night,
And her little brother and her shared their pillow fights.
Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For that teenage girl,
Knowing that her sister,
Her own bloods hand constructed all of this,
Makes it even more heart breaking.
Even after all this time has gone by,
That same teenage girl can’t understand,
Why would her own blood destroy,
Her real dads house after he is dead.
The disrespect lay there so apparent,
green and in dirt.
Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be.
For destroying all that is left,
For destroying all that you were holding on too.
Once to be a respectable mans,
Nine year old girls play house,
But now is only just a house of pot.
Forgiven not forgotten that is,
The way it has to be,
Because she is my sister, and I have to.
It is in the contract,
And my conscience tells me so.
This will always be,
Forgiven but not forgotten.
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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