BPEditing&C

  A Stranger in Copper Creek   Chapter 1: Crystal Clear   As Barrett Hawke crossed the threshold into the dusty town, the scent of deception that clung to his soiled handkerchief mingled with the air of suspicion that hung heavy over the desolate streets. The windows of ramshackle buildings bore the gaze of a dozen hidden onlookers. Through the heart of this forsaken town flowed a narrow, serpentine rivulet, the unassuming “Copper’s Creek” that gave this place its moniker, a fact that drew a wry chuckle from Hawke. His boots splashed in the shallow water, scattering droplets onto the parched, sunbaked sand.   His destination was the general store he had spied a few miles off, a simple establishment marked by a spigot standing sentry at its entrance, sporting a sign that declared, “5 cents a bucket”. From the dimness within the store emerged a rotund man, his jovial face belied by the town’s desolate atmosphere. “Good lord, son, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he exclaimed.

     War has endured as an intrinsic aspect of human civilization, tracing its roots back to and past prehistoric eras, and it can be argued that war is visible in the struggles of the natural world, such as the battles waged among ant species or lion prides. However, despite the longevity of war, propaganda is a somewhat new addition. Propaganda exists to sway public opinion on conflict or policies, either by showing the glory of one’s own morals, or the evils enabled by the enemy's. It is an artform that can be used or abused and has proved to be very powerful. If history is written by the victor, then propaganda is the prelude to that inevitability. That being said, Propaganda is not always effective and can be detrimental in more ways than one. So, let’s try and understand propaganda, it’s purpose, effective use, and especially it’s failures.      In the ancient world, propaganda was less motivated by war and more created to lend credence to the reigning monarchs of the time.

If you are reading this, you must already know this is part of a series about Poems I created that are meant for kids to learn about Roman history. In this post I am going to include more than one poem so that those interested can read more easily. The idea is to teach kids about roman history in a digestible way so that they have a foundation of which to learn more history about the world. Because of the negative attitude I hold for typical nursery rhymes I believed it a fun writing exercise to create my own. The other benefit of these poems is in expanding vocabulary terms in a way that breeds discussion. The first poem is about Cincinnatus, a Statesman and senator who was disgraced by his son's actions before being called upon by the people to save them from themselves. *** The Reluctant Dictator 2022 What of a man who has long played the game Of speaking for others: yet retired in shame. His troublesome child, that he spoiled rotten Sawt his progress undone and his good deeds f

As mentioned in an earlier post, I've been working on a collection of poems about ancient Rome, and I want to share them here to showcase my progression. These poems are geared towards a younger audience, like storybooks or vocabulary books. I'm taking Roman myths and true stories and turning them into fun and accessible texts for kids. In this post, I'll be sharing the second poem in the series, so let's dive in and explore the story of Horatius Cocles together. This is the second post of this type; I will include a link to the first at the bottom of the page. Now the poem... *** This the Bridge of Hero's 2022 Once upon a time there was a Kingdom called Rome. It was a place anyone could come and make friends and call home. The King there was kindly, wise and sage, The only trouble was in his old age. Then one day the good old king did die, and his son ‘Lucius’ became king, and he was not a good guy. He stole from the people, and he forbid fun in the city. He took a

As a writer of mostly lengthy, substantive texts, I occasionally take joy in creating short poems echoing with historical events or profound themes. My ambition is to replace meaningless nursery rhymes from my youth, which still occupy precious mind-space, with these enlightening miniatures. Think of the empty nursery rhymes ingrained in our memories: "To Grandmother's house we go," "Ring around the Rosey," "Ba Ba Black Sheep "and so on. Rather than these mindless verses, I long for the ability to recall content that offers fresh insights into the world and its deep mysteries. However, my upbringing's persistent mental imprints limit this possibility. But this regret has sparked my drive to generate my own poetry, a rich empty canvas ready to reflect significant themes and ideas. With this in mind I have written a few poems and such on Roman history, a subject of which I am most passionate about.  (I'd like to clarify that my motivation pri

Cahokia, a once bustling epicenter of civilization nestled across the river from what is now known as St. Louis, is often referred to as the archaeological counterpart of ancient Jerusalem, only manifested in a tapestry of earthen mounds rather than stone structures.      An illustrious city and sacred hub of the ancient Native American civilization, Cahokia was an American beacon of light during the European 'Dark Ages'. While unknown to the "civilized world" the city functioned as a vibrant hub of exchange; its trade routes stretching across the expanse of the continent. Its influence was palpable, with artifacts, pottery shards and intricate jewelry traced back to Cahokia found from the Atlantic to the Pacific. The echoes of its cultural impact reverberate still today, among contemporary native tribes, with its mythology and legends deeply interwoven into their spiritual practices.      The heart of this ancient city's allure and the greatest archaeological t