elysabeth faslund

Rookie (11/23/49 / Thibodaux. Louisiana)

................................Caligula


Caligula, like Nero, was not born neurotic (by today's standards) . They progressed to that stage through power, and money....
----------...

Ah Caligula, with puff pouty lips, I hear your trumpet call
out away across barren sands.
Have you enough soft silks, satins?
Have you enough silk, satin skins?
Cast away your wine...cast away your mind?
Or will you drown scorpions in grapemares?
Only scorpions mark passage to your palace lair...
sand arid scurry prints tick, tick. Tick-tock.
Timed den of mania proclaimed, maintained...
trumpet your sour lungs.

Ah Caligula, with pasty face, youth floats to the surface...
a bloated, gnawed fish, reflecting waters of madding years
vined, knotted, with temple whores'
boy-women,
pawing acquiescence for your poisoned touch.
Trampling each the other to hear nonchalant insanity
slithering oldness across your reddened eyes.
Have your temple whores an arched tail?
Have your temple whores attended desert schools
of privation truths...sought redemption in a dewdrop?

They sanctify your demoned darkness,
as you, theirs.
Your call summons.

I arch only in the desert
of Truth.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 01, 2009

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Comments about this poem (................................Caligula by elysabeth faslund )

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  • Rookie - 213 Points Manonton Dalan (3/18/2010 4:19:00 AM)

    cali we have lots of 'em way back home however less extravagant. thanks for reminding us it's so nicely written. md (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 138 Points Ernestine Northover (7/1/2009 10:32:00 AM)

    You have pictures Caligula so eloquently in this write Elysabeth. Very well portrayed and produced. Every bit of his life is woven into this poem spot on. Well done indeed.
    Love and hugs Ernestine XXX (Report) Reply

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