Seasons change
Just ask the jay
Whose plume is blue
As the sky
After a fierce rain
Inundates the land
Bringing with it winds
Whose currents lift the jay
To dance among scattered clouds
Waving a final goodbye
To the warmth of summer sun
Setting past falls forward
Into winters grasp
Whose chill shocks the jay
With visions of ice and snow and frost
A sign to migrate to warmer climbs
Where fall has fallen backward
And summer sun rises anew
Challenging the changing season
To remain sunny and blue

The Gods once sang hymns of Garland twined
Dancing nymphs steadily seducing Zeus’s mind
They sang about love, passion, and a woman scorned
For Hera, wife of Zeus, Hephaestus, his brother warned
“Aphrodite may be sweet, *****, and supple
But the two of you together will bring only trouble”
Brooding Zeus sulked, like the heroes of old
Alexander may be great but he will be BOLD

Ignoring the warning, to the glade he went
Sending a message with Mercury, his love he sent
Luna hung low over the trees that night
Fireflies flashing accenting the light
There she strode, Aphrodite the beautiful
Come here to meet Zeus, lord of the thunderbolt
“My king, with Mercury your words I read
Sweet nothings echo in my heart that bleeds
In wanting for you, I bellow the forge of my heart
My longing for you had me longing to depart”

Zeus rushed to his muse, his body filled with lust
Never stopping to consider he was betraying Hera’s trust
For the queen had played mighty Zeus, an illusion she wore
Aphrodite in image but in Hera her SCORN
Together they lay in lust passions raged
To feel his love again being all that she craved
Her moans turned to laughter, her plot complete
The nymphs turned to vines snaring his feet
“Hera, my love, do not be angered
My feelings for you were never endangered
I knew it was you from the very beginning
I was just simply curious to see the ending”

Hera wasn’t interested in any more of his lies
Like Uranus before him she would cut off his pride
Never again would he sire another *******
She would remain queen on Olympus from here on after
In celebration she cast the ******* down the mountain
Into a babbling spring where nymphs danced ’round a fountain
When suddenly an infant sprang from holy water deep
A boy was born immaculately complete
Raised by the dryad’s a man he grew
Through labors of love to prove his due

Ignorant of the boy, Hera jealously ruled Olympus
With Zeus crippled her power now limitless
Until a prophecy was issued by Apollo’s oracle
“A child born, he who is destined to wear the purple”
Worried, Hera sent Mercury down to Gaia’s shores
His mission to find the boy before he could wage his war
Too late he was, for once, he was too slow
The boy (now a man) was already in Olympus with his father in tow
“Hera, I’m here to claim my throne, father as my witness
From him I was born, a product of your sickness
Your husband you tricked, maimed, and usurped
That throne is mine and Olympus will never be yours
Then he called forth his first thunderbolt
Casting Hera into the void and ending her revolt

As I wake to a new day, a new me arises
Different yet the same, a fresh reset
Retaining those values, fundamental
In defining one's true character, absent
The previous outline of my whole.

Confusion takes hold, for now I am half
Like folded tracing paper, overlapping
Complex lines in gesture, ever moving
In an attempt to remember, who I was
Before peaceful sleep took me under.

Stubborn I stand tall, looking around
To my surroundings, searching for meaning
Amongst a newly minted world, glimpsing
A single picture, mirroring my sketch
Standing next to the only reason I wake.

...

Only your beauty can complete my art.

...

You, my heart.

From Publius
To Marcus

Marcus, I must apologize:
It is true that I said you were as Antinous
To Gaius' Hadrianus,
But do not fret, it was not in jest;
I truly did ask the Gods to curse you so.

You see, this farm,
This land,
Has been my ward long before you...
In your Janus mask,
Were hired.
At least that God understands the difference
Between war and peace.

Unlike you, dear Marcus,
Who brings only chaos to the fields;
A greater pestilence than any drought or rot.
You are the weevil that spoils the grain,
Corrupting all around you.

Poor Gaius has already fallen
Under your impious spell.
His fields grow fallow from association
With you Marcus!

What shame you bring your family
With your lazy immorality,
Incapable of discerning right from wrong,
Lest it be ascribed by your new dominus, Gaius,
Whose skin your claws flay with fatal flattery.

All this while I tend both your fields,
And mine own,
Working myself to the bone;
The heat, and sweat, and bugs,
Reminiscent of Pluto's underworld.
To honor my family.
To feed my family.

I honor my ancestors Marcus!
Daily, I make offerings to Gods of house and state
At my household alter;

The Capitoline triad overflow with my piety,
Bringing abundance to mine soul and soil alike.
Plenty, that you, sweet Antinous, claim as your own.

No longer.
I'm divorcing myself from all of you.
You can have the land.
As it stands it would make a beautiful wedding plot.
I've even gone to the trouble of forging you a ring,
Meticulously sourced from your masters ****!

Consider it a fragrant farewell
From your favorite fan,
Who will fondly not remember you,
Even as you scramble without me,
And miss the coattails you rode,
To usurp my home.

Woe to the plow;
Proscribed to die in rust.

Signed,
PERTINAX