10 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
Early morning trekked across town and I followed the cats to the Coliseum. I was disappointed it was a ruin. I would really have enjoyed if it had been rebuilt and had the opportunity to see mock gladiatorial games or mythological dramas within its walls. When I was young my exposure to that type of history was either through reading books or viewing movies but to actually stand in such a historical site awakened the senses of my imagination. I could almost make out the roar of the lions and the cheer from the crowd. (more…)
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10 Oct 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Outside the walls and across the river, it took hours to bring down the bricks down
we painted ours red and adorned with graffiti but still on the outskirts of town
then between the horns of the golden alter, stood the emperor, robed with the sun
a white horse, a red horse, a black horse, around the obelisk and down the stretch they come
The locust rose out from the smoke, awoke the dragon and his seed
not a crucifix but a silent witness, change their words, the emperor decreed
they said they were singing a new song but it was the same that I heard before
Babylonian vines, Egyptians wines and images you just can’t ignore
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