Apologies for the blog hiatus, loyal readers. It’s been a busy month at Winning Writers and I had some tech support issues. For your reading pleasure, here is a memorable poem by Amberle L. Husbands of Georgia, winner of first prize in the adult category of the Spring 2012 Odes to the Olympians Poetry Contest (theme: Ares/Mars, the God of War). This free contest is sponsored by Victoria Grossack and Alice Underwood, authors of The Tapestry of Bronze series of historical novels about ancient Greece. The current contest, seeking poems about Venus/Aphrodite, is open through November 30. Thanks to Amberle and Victoria for permission to reprint here.
“You Heard What?”
Ares is dead?
I don’t believe it.
Not in these modern days.
Just yesterday, I swear,
I saw his face going down into the subway.
Or outside some church in Lebanon,
eating ice cream on the steps of the Pantheon,
his mouth Cherry Garcia red–thinking of something dire.
Ares is sketched as bloodthirsty,
written in as the ne’er do well
likely to appear at any time;
distinct from all the races, but he’s everybody’s friend.
Ares is still in business, keeping all the stray dogs fat,
and so is the hateful guru, with his basement napalm lab.
Ares is one who revolves,
strolls from the pent house down Pauper’s Lane.
The insane, and the beaten, all know his shadow,
they know that peace is fleeting,
and they know when to go underground.
Ares is dead?
I don’t believe it.
I saw him just now, down at the Hinge for a beer.
Had a whole crowd with him,
men in suits, wearing gold chains, heavy boots;
Ares dead? Think again, friend–
Think twice and fear–
Ares is here
I am apreciating it very much.I have never read such a lovely article and I am coming back tomorrow to
continue reading.