{"id":26641,"date":"2026-08-13T17:06:15","date_gmt":"2026-08-13T22:06:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/maiglobal.org\/?p=26641"},"modified":"2026-08-13T17:10:49","modified_gmt":"2026-08-13T22:10:49","slug":"how-an-ancient-poem-inspired-our-mai-poetry-group","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/maiglobal.org\/id\/how-an-ancient-poem-inspired-our-mai-poetry-group\/","title":{"rendered":"How an Ancient Poem Inspired our MAI Poetry Group"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/div>\n

By Joan Campbell<\/em><\/p>\n

Twenty Amazing Minutes<\/strong><\/h3>\n

One of the most fun and creative parts of our MAI Online Poetry Group<\/a> meeting is the writing prompt. Someone in the group shares a prompt, and we have 20 minutes to write a poem.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re thinking \u2018that\u2019s crazy; what can you possibly write in 20 minutes?\u2019 you\u2019re not alone! I didn\u2019t expect much from myself or others when we started this creative exercise 2 years ago.<\/p>\n

Yet, I\u2019m always amazed at what emerges in this time-pressured cauldron of creativity\u2014where one just has time to write what comes to mind, without too much overthinking or self-doubt.<\/p>\n

Some in the group are particularly adept at crafting words that already have the shape and rhythm of a lovely poem.<\/p>\n

Others (like myself) have a rougher \u2018seed\u2019 poem that needs a bit of tending and pruning into shape afterwards.<\/p>\n

Either way, we love creating, sharing and celebrating everyone\u2019s very unique take on the prompt.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A Poem that Stood the Test of Time<\/strong><\/h3>\n

At our August meeting, the writing prompt was inspired by the ancient Greek poem The Odyssey<\/em>, written by Homer in the 8th<\/sup> century BC.<\/p>\n

What a wonder it would be\u2014we all agreed\u2014to still have one\u2019s poetry read almost 3 millennia later!<\/p>\n

We so enjoyed the poetry that flowed from the prompt that we decided to share both the prompt and poems with you all.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Odyessey-Themed Writing Prompt<\/strong><\/h3>\n

One of the most cunning and deceitful moments in the Odyssey story is when Odysseus cleverly plots the use of the Trojan horse. The Greeks build a huge hollow wooden horse, hide soldiers inside and pretend to sail away. The people of Troy pull the horse inside their city walls. At night, the hidden soldiers came out and open the gates for their army.<\/p>\n

Write a poem about the Trojan horse in the story of The Odyssey, from a point of view you wish to explore OR write a poem about deception or betrayal. Perhaps something you\u2019ve experienced yourself, or witnessed, or even a Bible or other account of betrayal. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Our Members\u2019 Poems<\/strong><\/h2>\n

Here\u2019s what our members wrote in those 20 amazing minutes (and, in some cases, a little more editing time afterwards):<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Lament of the Trojan Horse<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Akolo Anthony James<\/em><\/p>\n

You built me,<\/p>\n

And called the clangs<\/p>\n

Of the hammer nailing my<\/p>\n

Bits and pieces into a being,<\/p>\n

Music of peace to the world.<\/p>\n

The wheels on my hooves<\/p>\n

Cannot go plakata, plakata,<\/p>\n

Like those other tireless horses<\/p>\n

Ridden into battlegrounds<\/p>\n

Of blood and violence.<\/p>\n

So I judged them, calling them<\/p>\n

The rides of bloodthirsty warriors.<\/p>\n

Me, I am not made for the speed lane,<\/p>\n

Yet I will be wheeled to end this war.<\/p>\n

Though my belly was heavy,<\/p>\n

I could not look inside to see<\/p>\n

If what I carried was the poison<\/p>\n

Of war, or the nutritious delicacy of peace.<\/p>\n

But when I was offered to the world,<\/p>\n

I realized that within me was bile hate;<\/p>\n

A brain that is nothing<\/p>\n

But a reservoir of poisonous doctrines.<\/p>\n

And as the world accepted me,<\/p>\n

You opened me up and revealed<\/p>\n

The intent. I am your tool,<\/p>\n

And not a piece of art;<\/p>\n

A carriage of division,<\/p>\n

And not the music of unity.<\/p>\n

Torn apart now,<\/p>\n

The journey to be built again is long,<\/p>\n

Maybe impossible,<\/p>\n

Because I feel the sores<\/p>\n

From the clanging of the nails<\/p>\n

Of your music.<\/p>\n

The world was betrayed;<\/p>\n

But not more than I!<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Voice of the Trojan Horse<\/strong><\/h3>\n

John Sirengo<\/em><\/p>\n

I stood at Troy, a gift of polished wood,<\/p>\n

A silent guest where wary warriors stood.<\/p>\n

Hospitality opened the city’s gate,<\/p>\n

Yet hidden cunning quietly shaped its fate.<\/p>\n

Within my frame loyal sailors lay,<\/p>\n

Faithful to their leader through night and day.<\/p>\n

Deception rode where trust had led the way,<\/p>\n

And mighty Troy saw darkness conquer day.<\/p>\n

The gods watched high with justice in their hand,<\/p>\n

For pride and wisdom both must face their stand.<\/p>\n

Like modern computing behind a screen,<\/p>\n

Invisible codes shape what is seen.<\/p>\n

Beware the horse that enters without sound,<\/p>\n

For truth and falsehood often travel bound.<\/p>\n

Yet loyalty, wisdom, and justice remain,<\/p>\n

Guiding lost travelers across life’s sea again.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The Sacred Garden of Betrayal<\/strong><\/h3>\n

David Munyere<\/em><\/p>\n

Upon a sacred hill there stood the garden of Gethsemane, calm and fair,<\/p>\n

Where olives swayed, flowers bloomed, and peace perfumed the air.<\/p>\n

There Jesus walked, He taught, He prayed, with faithful hearts nearby,<\/p>\n

Preparing for redemption’s work beneath the silent sky.<\/p>\n

Yet Judas knew the hidden path and led the soldiers near;<\/p>\n

For thirty silver coins he sold the Lord he once held dear.<\/p>\n

He marked the Christ with one false kiss\u2014a symbol wrapped in shame;<\/p>\n

The sacred garden wept that night as darkness fiercely came.<\/p>\n

Today our churches, homes, and work may face betrayal too;<\/p>\n

When greed replaces loyalty, the faithful become few.<\/p>\n

But let our hearts be gardens where Christ’s truth will always stay,<\/p>\n

Choosing love above all gain, and faithfulness each day.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Horse of War<\/strong><\/h3>\n

Joan Campbell<\/em><\/p>\n

Forever my name<\/p>\n

rings of deception.<\/p>\n

Though carved by hands<\/p>\n

intent on violence,<\/p>\n

I was beautiful once:<\/p>\n

crafted to tempt the enemy<\/p>\n

to take me as their own.<\/p>\n

Men\u2019s eyes were hungry as they<\/p>\n

looked on my majestic form.<\/p>\n

Ropes cut my throat<\/p>\n

and legs as they dragged me<\/p>\n

through their city gate.<\/p>\n

I heard children\u2019s voices call,<\/p>\n

wonder-filled at the sight of me.<\/p>\n

I felt their soft, reverent hands<\/p>\n

stroke my head and mane<\/p>\n

with a gentleness I\u2019d never known.<\/p>\n

I tried to creak<\/p>\n

a warning to their mothers.<\/p>\n

But my voice was lost to the<\/p>\n

heaving shouts of warriors<\/p>\n

pulling me to my feet.<\/p>\n

All marvelled then, whispering,<\/p>\n

\u201cHow tall and graceful,<\/p>\n

a gift worthy of the gods.\u201d<\/p>\n

Never guessing that<\/p>\n

betrayal brooded in my belly.<\/p>\n

That very night my makers undid me,<\/p>\n

slinking away to deeds of darkness,<\/p>\n

to silencing of voices, even the gentle young.<\/p>\n

Thus they cursed me to the<\/p>\n

hollow husk of history\u2019s shame.<\/p>\n

Forever my name<\/p>\n

rings of deception.<\/p>\n

Horse of War.<\/p>\n

Horse of Trojan.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Horse we Invited in<\/strong><\/h3>\n

WordPriest daThug<\/em><\/p>\n

Sometimes what enters as a light is what extinguishes the light.<\/p>\n

A wooden horse arrived beneath the moonlight,<\/p>\n

No sword at its side, no trumpet for a fight,<\/p>\n

Its hollow ribs slept quietly through the night,<\/p>\n

And Troy, hungry for peace, mistook silence for right,<\/p>\n

So the gates kissed the wheels and welcomed it inside,<\/p>\n

While danger curled beneath its ribs, out of sight.<\/p>\n

It stayed like a guest beneath borrowed candlelight,<\/p>\n

Shared laughter with the household, made the long evenings bright,<\/p>\n

Learned every corridor, every weakness, every rite,<\/p>\n

Then carried stolen embers where trust once burned white,<\/p>\n

For betrayal rarely knocks wearing the face of spite;<\/p>\n

Sometimes it learns the language of delight.<\/p>\n

A name can be buried beneath another’s lie,<\/p>\n

A good deed can be dressed in a counterfeit light,<\/p>\n

A faithful hand can tremble beneath a hidden knife,<\/p>\n

And old wounds can return when the ashes reignite,<\/p>\n

For some doors are opened once, then opened twice,<\/p>\n

Because mercy forgets that boundaries are also right.<\/p>\n

Sometimes what enters as a light is what extinguishes the light.<\/p>\n

The lesson is not to build every wall twice,<\/p>\n

Nor turn every stranger into a suspect overnight,<\/p>\n

But wisdom must sit beside kindness at the fireside,<\/p>\n

For forgiveness may wash a wound without restoring the key inside,<\/p>\n

A broken bridge may be mourned without crossing it twice,<\/p>\n

And love can leave the door closed without becoming spite.<\/p>\n

Troy did not perish because darkness won the fight,<\/p>\n

Nor because its walls were too weak to survive the night,<\/p>\n

It fell when deception was mistaken for delight,<\/p>\n

When a gift was never questioned because it looked right,<\/p>\n

So guard what enters the garden, however beautiful the sight.<\/p>\n

For some horses carry soldiers beneath a gift’s disguise.<\/p>\n

Sometimes what enters as a light is what extinguishes the light.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Smoother than Oil <\/strong><\/h3>\n

Jane Harel<\/em><\/p>\n

Based on Psalm 55 when David was betrayed by a close friend.<\/em><\/p>\n

We shared our bread, we shared our youth,<\/p>\n

We walked the holy steps of truth.<\/p>\n

If it had been an enemy\u2019s blade,<\/p>\n

I could have borne the mark it made.<\/p>\n

But it was you, my chosen guide,<\/p>\n

The one who walked right by my side.<\/p>\n

Your words were smoother than the oil,<\/p>\n

While underneath, the plots would spoil.<\/p>\n

Your speech was butter, soft and sweet,<\/p>\n

A trap set low beneath my feet.<\/p>\n

For while your lips spoke words of peace,<\/p>\n

The hidden war would never cease.<\/p>\n

I cast my burden on the stone,<\/p>\n

And trust I do not stand alone.<\/p>\n

The swords you drew will surely fall,<\/p>\n

While truth outlives and breaks the wall.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You\u2019re Invited to the Fun<\/strong><\/h3>\n

In September, we won\u2019t be having our usual Saturday meeting as we\u2019re instead having a pre-launch of our upcoming anthology Still: Poems of Peace in Times of Turmoil<\/em><\/a>.<\/p>\n

But if this post has inspired you to try your hand at a future writing prompt, we\u2019d love to have you join our October meeting<\/a> on Saturday, October 10 at 1 pm, South Africa (GMT+2).<\/p>\n

You can also join our WhatsApp group<\/a> to share and chat about poetry, and stay up-to-date on upcoming meetings and projects.<\/p>\n

Related links and resources<\/strong><\/h2>\n