Wise Words with Bruce Wise


 

At the G7 Meeting, Charlvoix, Quebec, June 8-9, 2018
          by Wes Caribu Deel

Among the seven richest nations on the World stage:
the USA, Japan, and Germany, France, and UK,
along with Italy and Canada, that makes the group;
they are a rather woolly, wealthy, healthy acting troupe.
Trudeau, Trump, Abe, Merkel, Conte, May, Macron, on board;
this year they met up in Quebec, but all was not accord.
It looked like it was going fine; until a spat went whoa!
between the US Donald Trump and Canada’s Trudeau.

Trudeau had been both meek and mild till the very end,
and then he said he felt insulted, and he would not bend.
So Trump called him weak and dishonest, said he would not sign,
and sev’ral leaders finished up with qwail eggs and whine,
the school marm Merkel lecturing, along with mate Macron,
and matron May enjoined the fracas, flighty and high-flown.
Amidst the lichen, moss and shrooms, it seems hard to escape,
PM Trudeau’s left eyebrow started falling off his face.

 

The Singapore Summit, June 12, 2018
          by R. Lee Ubicwedas

Hotel Capella on Sentosa was the venue’s site,
where Donald Trump met Kim Jong-un in Singapore daylight.
A document was signed “to build a lasting…stable peace,”
denuclearization of Korea—west to east.

Trump showed an outline of a land without the threat of nukes,
with sanctions gone, without recriminations and rebukes.
He planned to halt the war games with the US and the South,
and Moon Jae-in was all the way in, too, by word of mouth.

Japan’s Abe embraced the “summit as a forward step.”
A thousand mile journey starts with such, Lao Tzu once said.
And all around the World one could find pools of relief,
that maybe, somehow, finally, some could dilute their grief.

But what was the significance of this across the globe,
for Russia, Syria, Iran, and other lands untold?
By leveraging assets, covering the downside too,
what bold step has the Donald done to bring this into view?

Dennis Rodman in Singapore
          by Lee Du “Crab” Siew

The former NBA star Dennis Rodman, minus stealth,
showed up at Singapore at Changi Airport on June 12th.
He had an interview with Cuomo, as a person who’d
related both to Trump and Kim, an unmatched point of view.
He wore his bright red MAGA hat and PotCoin.com tee,
blue sweat pants, shades, and crazy ways, excited just to be.
He felt his basketball diplomacy had played a part;
the “Worm” was slightly squirming when he dared to show his heart.
Excited now, but said he had received death threats before;
Barack Obama didn’t want him opening a door.

Lee Du “Crab” Siew is a poet of Singapore.

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Assault on Yemen Launched
          by Saudi Becrewel

A Saudi-led alliance has attacked the Houthi port,
as planes and ships have pounded Hodeidah up in the north.
The fighting raged south of the city, at the airport too,
as “Golden Victory” unfolded, blasting in to view.
The Emiratis claim they’ve penetrated Houthi lines;
control of airport and route to Sana’a ‘s their design.
Yemen is suffering a crisis worse than Syria’s;
and millions are in need; starvation, o, is serious.
The Sunni states state they will try to keep the port unclosed,
but say that will depend upon the Shias they depose.

Saudi Becrewel is a poet of the Arabian peninsula.

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An IED
          by War di Belecuse
          “When the shell detonates beside the truck,/ the sound is too loud to hear…”
              —Hugh Martin, “Way of Looking at an IED”

A switch, initiator, charge, container and a source
make up the five components of its vicious, vile force;
an IED is improvised, explosive, a device
that soldiers often have to face, and pay a heavy price.

In countries, like Afghanistan, or even in Iraq,
some 60+ % of deaths come from its planned attack.
Its bomb is made incorporating lethal chemicals,
designed to blow up all the personnel it can in kills,
in vehicles.

It’s used to shake up an opposing force, to make it dance,
facilitating other skirmishes, participants.
O, it can hurt a lone detachment that maintains the peace,
among the high, dry hills and valleys, mountainous and steep.

It can contain such objects as ball bearings, nails or rocks,
to penetrate one from one’s head down to one’s shoes and socks.
Caught in a blizzard of machinery, it can destroy
a mighty, fighting man, and turn him to a joyless boy.

War di Belecuse is a poet of warfare. His favourite New Millennial poet of war is Hugh Martin.

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Two Blown Up
          by Cid Wa’eeb El Sur

His shoes were black and green; his socks were black; his head was small.
What could he really see when he was standing up and tall?
When he was looking down, it looked like he was going up.
It looked like he was trying to retrieve a coffee cup,
because his arms and hands were stretched as far as they could go.

He stood beside this other guy whose eyes were down and closed,
whose head was big, whose hair was black, whose shoes were blue and white,
and looked like he was trying to maintain a worthy height.
But when the IED went off between them in that space,
they were the only two engulfed by flames in fate’s embrace.

Cid Wa’eeb El Sur is a poet of the Mideast, which has definitely seen its share of horrid war.

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The MiniBooNE Experiment
          by Ira “Dweeb” Scule

The MiniBooNE experiment @ Fermilab, indeed,
has shown the same anomaly found in LSND.
LSND results back in the 1990s were
notoriously incompatable—there was no stir—
did not concur with all neutrino observations made,
and so they were mislaid, waylaid. In short, they weren’t displayed.
The standard framework of the three neutrinos had been found,
with nine parameters around electron muon, tau.
But now experiementers find LSND’s no quirk;
and there is tension, o, somehow the data doesn’t work.

Ira “Dweeb” Scule is a poet of the sciences.

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Steinitz’s Theorem
          by Euclidrew Base
          …the most important…deepest known result on 3-polytopes…”
              —Branko Grünbaum, “Convex Polytopes”

Steinitz’s polyhedra theorem,1922,
states that a planar graph connected, vertices removed,
contains a convex polyhedron with the very same
pattern of connectivity: a polytope remains.
His first prop, 1916, showed inductively its truth,
while later, others, rubberbanded, circle-packing proofs,
showed other things as well, like snappy, stretching logic drawn,
or edges tangent to a sphere, embedded in the dawn.
By seeing things from many angles, one can understand
the structures of this cosmos better, and how it ‘s been planned.

Euclidrew Base is a poet of mathematics. Modernist Ernst Steinitz (1871-1928) contributed to the growing trend to abstaction in his work on the algebraic theory of fields, motivated by the p-adic fields work of Karl Hensel (1861-1941).

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João Azevedo, or Johnny Salvatore
          by Luis de Cawebre

His hands were folded, lower fingers, they were intertwined,
his index fingers pointed upwards, like a church’s spire.
He wore a black and bulky sweater, dark shades on his eyes,
and he was sitting for a pic, surprisingly inside.
Although it looked like he was at a window on the world,
it seemed more like a picture of a garden realm unfurled.
He seemed like Ferdinand Pessoa transposed to this clime,
as if, amidst the misty madness, he was here to rhyme
in English or in Portuguese, in eddies of sublime,
João, or Johnny, Azevedo, poet caught in time.
I found a bottle in the sea, the oceans are a mess;
inside it had a message, which I read I must confess.
Its words, like waves of the Atlantic lapping Portugal,
like as typed telegraphic paths in telepathic graphs,
splashed there, upon the rocks in foamy anapestic din,
and flew like flocks of alexandrines scattered in the wind.
I looked around to see where it came from, but could not see
naught but a single fishing boat and net upon the sea.
I saw a crowbard on its deck and literary chains
that hung in neorealistromantic tangent planes.

Luís de Cawebre is a poet of Portugal. His favourite Portuguese poet is Luís de Camões. His favourite Modernist poet is Fernando Pessoa, and he is finally acquainted with Pessoa’s twin soul, Florbela Espanca, due to Johnny Salvatore, i. e. João Azevedo, his favourite New Millennial Portuguese poet.

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Old Actors
          by Cawb Edius Reel

Old Rosanne Barr sent out a tweet: [The] “Muslim Brotherhood
& planet of the apes had a baby=vj”. That’s good?
The grammar’s bad, the joke is one of discongruity,
but is it worth a firestorm of such intensity?
Comparing Valerie J. to an ape; I don’t see it;
but is it racist really, if it doesn’t even fit?
There’s just one race, humanity. Is Darwin’s thought in play?
The cute gorillas Dian Fossey studied weren’t okay?
Well, anyway, it seems to be some folk have lost their grip,
and now are losing reason in the lap of flapping lip.

Old R. de Niro, at the Tonys made a thoughtful speech,
“…no longer down with Trump, it’s fuck Trump.” Is that not a peach?
The thoughful audience exploded into an applause;
they rose upon their feet, a celeb-rated, thrilling cause.
He won a grand ovation for his fine, appealing words,
and the attendees ate it up, but is it worth such mirth?
There’s just one race, humanity. Is Darwin’s thought in play?
The chimpanzees that Jane Goodall observed were not okay?
Well, anyway, it seems to be some folk have lost their grip,
and now are losing reason in the lap of flipping lip.

Cawb Edius Reel is a poet of La La Land. His favourite quote is one from U. Liberace Dews about actors and their creative rhetorical skills: “Actors deliver lines, writers create them.”

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Grin and Bear It
          by Rus Ciel Durbew
          “He’s happy here, it’s we can’t smile.”
              Aleksandr Griboyedov, “Горе от ума”, “Woe from Wit.”

As Russia is the 2018 host of World Cup;
its citizens are being nudged to keep on looking up.
It seems that smiling is not part of Russian culture yet;
and smiling looks suspicion, it’s a noticeable nyet.
But over one-and-one-half million people plan to come;
and so to shed such coldness, they’re told laughing is not dumb.
Employees of the Moscow Metro now are trained to be
less uptight with some laughing-yoga classes—happily.
So workers will be practicing to be light-hearted more.
For visitors it looks like goofy Russians are in store.

Rus Ciel Durbew is a poet of Russia. Griboyedov (1795-1829) was Russia’s ambassador to Qajar Persia, where he and all the embassy staff were massacred by a murderous Persian mob.

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Horseracing
          by Calubrese Wide
          “Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.”
              —Vergil, Aeneid Book II

Horseracing is an ancient sport, from Babylon to Greece,
and even legendary, as in Odin’s Sleipnir steed.
Historic’lly equestrians have honed their skills through games,
providing entertainment, when they strap har-ness-and-reins.
The skills of horse and rider both come into play the sport;
both must be serious; there are few moments to cavort.

To justify the time, expense, at Belmont, or elsewhere,
the thoroughbreds and jockeys must exert themselves with care.
To win a race requires grace, yet also lots of grit;
but, o, how satisfying is it when they hit the pit.
The question is, why did the 13th triple-winning prize
require second guessing, Soros-soaring justifies?

Calubrese Wide is a poet of horses. Betting on horseracing alone is a $100,000,000,000 industry. Wide’s grandfather on his mother’s side Elmer Reihl was a bettor on the races, which he used to take Wide to when he was a little boy. When his grandfather went to Reno, Nevada, his grandmother Frieda Reihl would have to hide their house mortgage because her husband was ever-ready to bet whatever he could. Wide frequently got silver dollars from his grandfather from his Reno jaunts. Wide’s favourite short story on racing is the brutal nursery tale, D. H. Lawrence’s “The Rocking-Horse Winner”.

 

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