Forgive me, my love
I could only stand-horror struck
I watched, yet I didn’t, the crocodiles of the raging Nile maul your bloody corpse
My love, my love forgive me
That wretched day; that cursed hour, the very hour of our return
To see you breathe your last was akin to feeling a knife in my back
They had to hold me down
The hated guards who couldn’t save you
Forgive me, please, forgive me
I can do nothing more than carve your face into cold marble now
Antinous forgive me, forgive me please
I couldn’t save you; no one could
Antinous, forgive me
Maybe those afternoons,
were meant for,
that simple meeting,
amidst the quiet,
blissful uninhibited emotion.
jasmine, rose, lavender tea,
chinking lipped tea cups,
of Hadrian Denaruis silver,
an eighteenth century delight,
for ladies; un salon de thé,
sound waves wander as tea diffusers,
ritual & routine,
friendship & freedom.
© Sia Jane
I built the playhouse
The seige of time.
I dismayed the border people.
Starlight shone through
Like the Ishtar Gate of Babylon.
Children shrieked and wailed
Against those walls
As nomads in northern China,
Or Philistines in Jeruselum.
But time is a formidable outsider,
And my small walls would tumble
To the blasts of tempus trumpets.
My hand runs lovingly across
Your names on those
Loading my hadron collider
With hampering Hadrian Wall.
What on earth am I doing!?
I know nothing at all.
I add some tea to my sugar,
Putting the kidneys in stone.
Getting chased down by a cougar -
My wishful thinking at home.
Feeling betrayed by my conscience,
The time is quarter to three.
In a world full of pretence,
I prefer to be free.
The Celtic Cross
Around my neck is often seen
An ancient sign
Of where I go and, too, have been
The cross more ancient
Than the Christ oft signified
A mere expedient
To Rome when Jesus died
Although I wear it in His name it further goes
To those whom Hadrian so feared he built his wall
The land where rivals are the thistle and the rose
Where the blood of all my forbears once did fall
As their mingling souls in Heaven thence arose
The stones within the mist cast silent pall
How can something that brings so much joy
turn around and cause such pain
It takes you out to bask in sunshine
yet leaves you naked in the rain
It fills your stomach with dainty butterflies
and sucks you in with its sexy pout
then the moment you let your guard down
it pulls your guts right out
It leaves a gaping cavity
and an ache inside your chest
makes you feel your very worst
after feeling your very best
Where once you were king of the world
now you only want to hide
building walls that would make Hadrian proud
you lock yourself inside
But alas we are too stupid
our optimism too sublime
because we tell ouselves in a year or two
"it'll work out different this time"
Only it doesn't.