Young Writers Society

These poems are all so elegant and prosaic! The imagery is so strong and tangible and present in every single line. It's very impressive poetry and the Roman theme is strong and makes it feel very unified. My favorite poem is "et tu" -- it's loaded with deep themes, rich imagery, and a complex plot and narrative arc. It's one of my favorite poems I've read this NaPo. I can't wait to read more from you!

xi. servum

in the market, they didn't say

bones strong as arches, lithe as willow boughs
tireless kidneys, running marathons in his sleep
a labyrinth of arteries, little drums everywhere
butterfly lungs, wings that flatten and fold
a stomach that churns every scrap into good
a liver the colour of old men in the sun,
skin drawn tight, hiding all the hard corners
voice chords that chime, sing on request
a heart forever humming that lifelong rhythm
a brain that doesn't burst with the effort of living

a body is more than what you pay for

You are all honestly so kind, thank you so much!! <3

xii. august

in a chaos-dream, the restless republic turned over,
and found, under your comforting hand

the birth of an empire
peace, stretching ever further across a continent
pause to take stock, draw breath,
the birth, death, and rebirth of a god
the true miracle of old age

all of it is cast in amber, whispering fields
that dance in the syrup of lazy afternoon sunshine,
the trees telling each other the time might just be coming to turn
the world you built forever the golden heart of the year at
the end of darkness, the beginning too

xiii. frigidarium

your pretty red mouth twisted like a bramble
thorns hidden among your low sing-song words i didn't know.
you were always toying - pleased by nothing, and it thrilled me
every gift tossed on the fire, my thought-filled letters kindling
i thrived on your indifference - a dozen men on your doorstep, they said
and i loved to see you turn me away

i unwrapped every warm wool layer my family wove for me
and plunged into the cold of loving you instead

xiv. all roads

young, jagged mountains
frozen before they could tell their own stories
lush, wide meadows, wildflowers blooming,
abuzz with honey-drunk bees
dense, tangled forests haunted
by fairytales whose time has not yet come

you segmented the continent - sliced it up for yourself
a cracked mirror with you at the impact, straight lines
made from a thousand broken backs - none of them yours
stones numbered like stars, displaced, ordered like soldiers
and you, a fat, happy spider, watching the whole world
tumbling towards you, waiting at the heart

xv. damnatio memoriae

every page that bears his name
ripped away from the spine
his face struck from
every cheap coin,
half worn away
all trace of him swept up
from filthy streets
burnt off tongues,
banished from stories,
from songs
the worst thing to happen to a man
is to never have existed at all
to be committed to oblivion

xvi. domitian

how good it was for them to have this young, dynamic someone by their sides. all that time waiting in the wings was not wasted – sabre teeth gnawing at exposed edges. they had told you every chink in their own armour, a father, a brother, and a dynasty that spiralled, at last to you. ambition is not a dirty word – not for the heir to everything, the whole world within grasp, the gods themselves, tempted by pomegranates and backward glances, would not resist. you are as close to a god as they – the last of the flavians, and best. ruthlessness is a tool to remake the world – that has grown sick and weak, under you it will blossom, fill to bursting with every good thing. close your mind to lesser men who lack your strength, your birthright – they would seek to poison you.