This style of poetry is quite avant garde to me and not my usual style, here using single word lines, giving space to the writing in keeping with the theme, centre aligned text as a nod to the shape of the Milky Way. So it is an art form as well as a poem. An installation of prose on paper, rather than separate entities, they are part of a spectrum of communication using words and form.
Not one of my better missives or even near to good. But try to enjoy. All CONSTRUCTIVE criticism welcome.
August comes from the Latin word augustus, meaning “consecrated” or “venerable,” which in turn is related to the Latin augur, meaning “consecrated by augury” or “auspicious.” In 8 B.C. the Roman Senate honored Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor, by changing the name of their month Sextilis to Augustus
August by nature, he strode the palace floors.
Revered by all, feared by most, yet sad beyond his strength.
Ruler of the known world but not of his own.
Troubled and tormented by fear and guilt.
About which he knew not either why or how.
His problematic mind anathematic to his own.
In dreams he saw only what he dreaded.
The gods of Rome were powerless to abate.
What power can come from him who is not there.
Sacrifices to your empty deities bring no healing.
Waxing moons supposedly bring spiritual hope,
Waning again like unrequited love on a distant shore,
White sand running through your fingers like the days of life.
No hope was found, no pity lost on mortal man.
Jupiter, supreme ruler of the gods, Juno his queen,
“Surely I am a god, does not Rome worship me?”
“Woe to you Minerva and Neptune, fake deities of Rome”
“Venus and Mars, you are planets not gods like me.”
“Apollo, son of Jupiter, loose your arrow and slay your father,
Thought he does not exist, but then, nor you.”
And so he curses every useless god he knows in hope of finding peace.
But no, each non-existent deity curses him back in incredulity.
How dare he say we don’t endure, just because we ……………..