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J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears
will never  suffice;

The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians,
they all knew the score, they used it for years:
Mortar, water and stone were never enough.

Foundations were crumbling, the bridges fell tumbling, the roads went asunder, the cracked dams' water pouring;

Rulers and Chieftains, Pharaohs and Mighty Heads of the State,
Convened with their Wizards, Druids, Grand Mages and Magicians:
"Solutions", they clamored,
" Solutions at once!".

Bonfires were lit, the goat's blood spilt, the entrails were read, the tea leaves deciphered.

The Oracle rose, in a whispering murmur, She muttered:
"When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never  suffice".

The Gods, in their infinite wisdom, had spoken:
" the elemental truth" they said
"that runs at the core, of all human enterprise
since the days of Gog,
for the formula to be true,
It needs a special glue,
a magical brew,
a mixture of fear, innocence
and tears
that can
only be found,
in the wide-eyed
Son of Man;

An infant is needed,
for Stone, Water and Gravel,
will eventually unravel."

"When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears
will never  suffice".

So it has been said, it has long been sung, the basis of Civilisation
is Human Sacrifice...

The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians;
they all knew the score, they used it for years,
Mortar, water and stone were never enough...

J Eduardo Ramos©
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
I love, not just to love;
You never understood my Love;
My love was as archaic as the medieval or Sapphic poems found as ruinous scrolls: Old and anachronistic;
***** in its innocence or faithfull as wide eyed babes.

J Eduardo Ramos©
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
A clover green bowler hat on the cars dashboard; mardi gras beads, wildly dangling from the rear-view mirror.
A cigarrete, held by the white knuckles grabbing the wheel. A mop of lush blonde hair, freely flowing in the wind. Aviator sunglasses, sitting astride
A dimpled nose; cherry-red lips whistling a long forgotten Irish
Song of Lust, Death & Fate...

J Eduardo Ramos©
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
My Muse is fickle and thrifty with her Gifts,
She caresses my eyelids with a gentle touch,
And Kisses my forehead with Violet Lips
Suffusing my Dreams in Magical Hues
She visits me Nightly
To show me the trove
Of Her Myriad Treasures
Which I Dare not steal.

J Eduardo Ramos©
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
Living on borrowed time since  our birth,
We strive to reach our arms and grasp
The universal mysteries.
Think: a human life elapses in a cosmic blink.
Love, Knowledge or Faith
are the Distinct Wines served in Life;
Who dared to deeply drink from the offer'd cup,
To keep at bay Death's everlasting Kiss?

J Eduardo Ramos©
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
The hopeless, brutal love the ocean proposes,
To the immutable, unyielding, stoic cliff;
Manifested, for æons,
as ceaseless
Violent
Caresses;
Has spawned
the gentle and pristine
Beach.

J Eduardo Ramos©

— The End —