The Head Of Ceaser Poem by Emmanuel Aneto

With flames gushing out their ears
Like volcanoes from an eruption
And arachnids screaming through their bears
As they burrow it for solutions

But the solution is not the question
The question is not the answer
Whose Head is in this coin
To give to Caeser what belongs to Caeser

Imagine you were in this eden
Infested with hunger stricken serpents
But salivating from apple fruits so ripen
And dropping down in torrents

It is not to whom the cap fits thing
As to whom it was given
Less given for the fitting
But fitting just for the chosen

Whether from the apostles
Perhaps! the disciples
Or from the trends of grand tradition
Whether on the truths of revelation
Lies this consideration
For this solemn mission


Ours is an age so apocalyptic
No thanks to stagnant laws and literatures
Open! Consult! ! the scriptures
If it makes you not fanatic


Oh! Caeser's head the dome of power
The coin the mother of matter
that massage our brutish urge
And make it bulge and bulge