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Boadicea

Boadicea

By Rori O’Keeffe

Copyright © 2017 by Rori O’Keeffe

Shakespir Edition

Shakespir License Statement

Feel free to share these poems with a friend, provided the text is complete and unaltered, as well as with notice of authorship and copyright.

Table of Contents

Boadicea

Ghosts

Deference

An Equation

Rori O’Keeffe at Shakespir

 

[Boadicea
**]

Boadicea

These ancient lands, enshrouded in mist,

Have yet to see her pummelled down;

She’s sheltered in a corner of the maze musing -

What wrath the marauders have yet to feel.

Honour her, honour her husband and her tribe;

Do not bow your head down to any equal.

Savour the astonishment of the rulers,

When, at last, they scurry from her swords.

Caesar tells her a woman is not right to defy -

If she might grasp him by the throat -

She is a queen of all she surveys,

And menace glances off her sinewy will.

Halls above were painted by such as she,

In the mirrored palace upon the hill;

She wears the crown made for the mighty,

And to the stars her enemies will flee.

There is a well that springs by her abode,

And the rocks within bring her good health;

She flings them at fools who cross the line,

And summons good warriors with her word.

The men who would mute her daughter’s voice,

Like blackened souls from the Underworld,

Make lies of the ways of her hallowed people -

Mad rulers crazed by the straws of fame.

She loves all and all are welcome;

None are cast out from her encompassing realm.

Fools throw themselves at her lance -

The conquerors must meet her furious might.

Ghosts

Sentinels cannot perceive them;

Diggers for gold know them not;

They are sisters of ours, over time -

Hearts crushed, flesh that was bought.

Simple men make simple rulers -

Beware the dolt that holds the mace;

No good comes of denying truth -

It lights the crooked vandal’s face.

Empty hearts make the weak despair;

The thirst for power betrays the wolf;

“Mighty am I,” says the Mouse-King,

When he feels the trembling underfoot.

Hear the words of ancient women,

Crowding our lands as armies of ghosts:

“Do not let them retake your freedoms,”

And, “The fist is but a powerless boast.”

Deference

We are not here by the mercy of men;

The clouds rain of their own accord.

Our lives are not men’s to meddle with;

A cat has no play when it’s abused;

My life is my very own dance;

Such a waste to squander our water;

Delicate are the minds of madmen;

The raven knows what becomes of kings;

Laws must set us free to build and grow;

The flower, it’s notable, has no master;

Bring down the fools who hate our freedom;

The dolphin knows of no cruel god;

Arrogance is the father of the diseased ruler;

Millions of drops make a rainbow;

Indifference is defiance in the eyes of tyrants;

In the end, Nature brings all to her humble home;

When Destroyers rise up in the crowded world,

The mind of Woman has answer to their anger.

An Equation

Misogyny is the hatred of life,

The frustration of nurturing,

The disdain for one’s wife,

It is torturing, and nothing less.

You can check out Rori’s other entries in the Memorable Verse series at your favourite Ebook retailer, or you can go to her Shakespir Profile Page, read her interview, see what she likes to read, and view all of her short works.

Rori O’Keeffe at Shakespir


Boadicea

The Celtic queen who led a valiant fight against the Romans stirs romantic notions of female power in the present day. Whether you belatedly recognize the establishment backlash against feminism, or have seen it all along, one has to agree: We are at a crucial turning point in history, with the fates of ordinary women, men and future generations hanging in the balance. These four poems express one woman's astonishing rage against the machine that is tearing down what took generations to build. No adult-only content.

  • ISBN: 9781370370184
  • Author: Rori O'Keeffe
  • Published: 2017-05-11 22:50:09
  • Words: 589
Boadicea Boadicea