A Pocket Full of Poesies

Poetry by Pamela

Have you seen this new poetry book yet? T.J. Therein has just released it – I will be doing a full review in a few days, but let’s just say I loved it! With T.J.’s permission, I have recorded a video of me reading just one of my favorite selections. Take a look – and then go here to buy your own copy.

And because I’m lame and clueless, the only way I could figure out how to add that video is by including a link. But, hey, you should still check it out. Just click here to see the video and hear one of TJ’s poems.



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Little Boots

During the reign of Tiberius
Sprouting from a spoiled seed
The spawn of Germanicus,
Little Boots would grow in deed
A child clad in military dress
The boy’s features fine and fair
Catching the eye of the Emperor, no less,
And the old bugger was in need of an heir

Germanicus was poisoned and Little Boots crossed the sea
All at the Emperor’s request
He would be raised on the Isle of Capri
As his great uncle’s special guest
Never a crueler master be
And never a better servant
Partaking in orgy and atrocity
Little Boots was a little malcontent

With knife in hand Little Boots stood
He strangled the hilt, his knuckles white
Above the abusive old man with flesh of wood
But Caligula would restrain from his passions that night
Only when Tiberius was on his deathbed
Could Little Boots no longer wait
He held a pillow over the old man’s head
To ensure the Emperor would suffocate

Word would travel fast, far and wide
That the Emperor’s days were done
There was no mention of regicide
And there was no dispute about succession
Caligula, Rome’s most darling son
And Tiberius’ heir was the only choice
And while Little Boots stomped around laces undone
The people of Rome would rejoice

For the first seven months of his reign
Rome was blissful and prosperous
This was all done for political gain
Little Boots was not so generous
But he knew some sacrifices must be made
To keep the common peace
But in time this would pass, this would fade
And flock off, a gaggle of honking geese

Falling ill with the October chill
Little Boots ran a fever
With bated breath, Rome stood still
And things would change forever
Because the fever had burned up his brain
His mind would be forever affected
He would recover from illness insane
And Rome with his madness would be infected

The trust he had built he quickly destroyed
And his rule would be reputed
One of a tyrant grown paranoid
Ordering rivals executed
Torturing people for pleasure
Manipulative, mean and malicious
Surrounded by sadistic sport and leasure
That Little Boots found absolutely delicious

Ninety days of sacrifice,
Indulging in decadence
Spoiling in sin and vice
And dealing in indifference
In an orgy of the senses
Oozing, every orifice dripping
A litany of sick offences
Any grip on sanity was surely slipping

Little Boots grew bored one day
So he marched down to the coliseum
And threw half of the crowd into the fray
For the lions to feast on
Then Little Boots took the Senate floor
Brazen, brash and bellicose
Seizing control and wanting more
The God-child would his will impose

The Senate would scheme and plot
With members of the Praetorian Guard
Mighty Rome was falling into rot
With this Emperor of ill repute and low regard
An end had to come to Caligula’s reign
And in secret the Senate struck an accord
A Caesar’s fate would be sealed again
To ensure the Empire was restored

So much like his kin, Gaius Julius
Little Boots stood forever still
In the catacombs of the Cryptoporticus
Far beneath Palantine Hill
Perspiring from every pour
Chaeres struck first…,”Attack, attack!”
Thirty co-conspirators
Delivered thirty stab wounds to the back

With the Emperor’s death, the Germanic Guard would rage
Inconsolable in their grief
Looking for revenge they went on a rampage
And committed atrocities beyond belief
So that concludes our story
Of the Emperor that went mad
Little Boots in all his glory
Became the epitome of all that is bad

T J Therien