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[JadziaKathryn]

Wow. Just - wow. That's some emotion-packed poem. Poetry sometimes looses clarity of meaning because of ornate language, but this has very appropriate minimalist use of language. But I don't know about the music idea. Somehow I think it'd be a distraction.

[Bether6074]

Wow. Very impressive and powerful, Rigil.

[CX]

Another class assignment:


"A Walk in the Woods"

Gnaeus's hobnail-studded caligae sunk deeply into the soft ground, making his feet moist. It didn't seem to matter how far he marched through this muck, each step seemed to make his feet even more wet, and he wasn't acclimating to it in the least. It was just one more thing that he hated about this place.

Gnaeus swiveled his head to look at his surroundings, but there wasn't much to see. It had looked the same since they had started marching down this narrow, muddy, wooded path. As a tribune, he was an experienced and combat-seasoned officer, and every ounce of that experience was protesting their chosen path. Marching in close columns with full campaign gear was dangerous in such a place, made even more dangerous by the fact that they had no other choice on this narrow path. Interspersed with hundreds of civilian camp-followers as they were, combined with their own thousands of legionnaires, their columns stretched for miles. If they were attacked, it would be difficult and time consuming to get into combat formation in order to defend themselves. As narrow as the path was, it might even be impossible. A sufficiently determined enemy could easily separate the lines into more manageable groupings and slaughter them.

General Quinctilius Varus was no doubt counting on fear to keep the enemy at bay if there were indeed any barbarians hiding in these woods. But these Germans were different. They did not fear the legions even in battle, and they stubbornly refused to fight on open ground. Still, there was no other choice but to march through the Teutoburg Forest if they were to aid their "ally" Arminius.

Gnaeus did not trust Arminius; he was still a barbarian, regardless of his Equestrian rank. Even if there was an uprising, it was a job better left to the local auxiliaries, not three of Rome's finest legions, who were nonetheless unused to this kind of combat. Part of him doubted that Arminius was even to be trusted. The man's own father-in-law had warned them that Arminius was leading them into an ambush. Varus had ignored the old man entirely, dismissing his warning as nothing more than a continuation of the feud Segestes was having over the marriage of his daughter to Arminius. But then, Varus trusted Arminius, because he was supposed to be a Romanised German and commander of an auxiliary cavalry unit. He was still a barbarian, and Gnaeus did not trust him.

Gnaeus raised his leather water pouch to his mouth, filling his mouth with stale water. He listened to the wet sloshing of his men marching behind him, and lamented being in these cursed woods.

There was shouting ahead. To the side! German and Latin forming an indecipherable melee of words. Metal met metal, ringing among the trees along with what could only be the screams of the dying. They were under attack!

Gnaeus dropped his water and drew his gladius.

"Drop your equipment!" he ordered his men, "prepare for attack from the sides!"

It was too late. Even as his men clamored with their gear and readied their weapons, vile Germanic words began to bombard them from both sides. Gnaeus could make out their fur-covered shaped coming at them from among the trees. Quickly turning, he saw more coming from the other side.

Varus had killed them all.

[JadziaKathryn]

I'm seeing some themes in your stories, CX - military, death.

Anyway, I appreciate the history and how you've reflected the weirdness of how the Roman military could work. Nicely done.

[blacknblue]

I only have one tiny quibble. I have an obsessive dislike of using the exclamation mark anywhere except in speaking, either dialog or monologue. Personal preference, I know. But I figure if descriptive writing is powerful enough to engage the emotions, it doesn't need artificial emphasis and the exclamation point is just distracting. Goes along with the principle that "all emphasis equals no emphasis".

Otherwise I like it. A couple of times you used the same word two or three times in the same paragraph, which became a trace redundant. But basically it was a very well done telling of one of European history's most important pivotal episodes.

"...give me back my legions!"

[Asso]

I'm seeing some themes in your stories, CX - military, death.

Anyway, I appreciate the history and how you've reflected the weirdness of how the Roman military could work. Nicely done.

Me too.

[evcake]

Good job. Say, have you considered doing something about the Ninth Legion? I've been fascinated by their fate ever since I was in grade school.

[CX]

I haven't done anything Roman for a long time, so probably not because I'd have to do some remedial research because I've completely forgotten a lot of things. Besides, I don't enjoy this kind of writing on the same level as my Star Trek stuff.

[Asso]

I haven't done anything Roman for a long time, so probably not because I'd have to do some remedial research because I've completely forgotten a lot of things. Besides, I don't enjoy this kind of writing on the same level as my Star Trek stuff.

Thank goodness!

[CX]

My first poem, which will no doubt get torn to shreds...


Cadet

I'm up before the sun awakens
My shrill alarm turned off as quickly as possible
Quietly I sneak into the bathroom
Careful not to disturb my roommate
Who only got to bed an hour ago

I wash myself quickly
And shave my face
Checking for any missed stubble
Which will mean lost points
And an ass chewing for my oversight

Slip back into the dark room
Letting my eyes adjust
Dressing as quietly as I can
Even if my roommate never
Gives me the same courtesy

White cotton v-neck shirt
To match my briefs over my naked skin
But black socks on my feet
Standard issue, with white lettering
The first official part of my uniform

Stiffly starched shirt
The color of a clear crisp day
With creases on my arms
Rank on my shoulders
And my name on my chest

White garters connect shirt and sock
Keeping one down and the others up
Unnatural to look at
And also to wear
But the secret to staying neatly tucked

Stiff slacks to match my shirt
But a darker shade
Closer to my eyes
No button but a clasp
And a belt with a chrome buckle to kept them up

Next is the tie
With diagonal lines only light and movement reveal
No light here so I squint
As I study the diagram I keep
Never having learned the knot by memory

Small chrome wings pierce the tie
A small chain leading through a button
Keeping the wild thing leashed
Allowing some movement
But not too much

I find my shoes in the dark
Pulling them out of the box
I can't admire my reflection in the dark
But am proud of my work
Many hours spent alone in my room

A jacket goes on last
The same as my slacks
Chrome on my collar
Rank on my shoulders
Only three ribbons on my chest

I leave the room
One more time
Greeting the cold outside
It is not dark here
But only because of orange lights

I see others like me
Making their way to the old arena
The only place left for us on a campus
That no longer seems to care
For those who will defend them in a few years

It does not matter
We will still train for the future
Preparing to lead
Learning what we need to know
All before the sun awakens

[justTripn]

It doesn't rhyme.

No , seriously. This is VERY good. In my humble opinion.

[CX]

Thanks.

Did I mention that I loath poetry?

[Distracted]

Poetry doesn't have to rhyme...but it should have a rhythm and evoke feelings. I think you're getting there with the last stanza. Instead of just describing things in short prose sentences, try to evoke a feeling with each stanza. Paint a picture with your words instead of drawing a diagram...know what I mean? This is a good first attempt. Keep it up. I'd like to read more.

[Bether6074]

I would say get in touch with your senses and emotions. Let us feel what you're feeling, let us see the vision you create of the world through your eyes. Find the beauty in everything and then describe it. Emotion. Emotion. Emotion. Most definitely. But then I love poetry, so I'm a bit of a different beast there. I find it's a good release. Keep trying.

[Linda]

VERY nice, CX! And most of it familiar to me: the black sox, the chrome buckle, the ribbons... And there will come a time when those multiple rows of ribbons, though proudly earned, will seem a bit cumbersome and you will be glad you are allowed to just pin on the top three ribbons as you head out the door because duty has called.