Wise Words with Bruce Wise


 

The Titan’s Goblet by Thomas Cole
          by Beau Ecs Wilder

Cole placed a giant goblet, not in Tennessee,
but in a mountain landscape in a little pic,
with water filled, some sailing boats, and tiny trees,
Greek temple, and Italian palace, round its lip,
from which the water falls down to the setting underneath,
where life emerges, buildings stand, and boats sail on sun-lit.
What mighty Titan’s grasp could cup that stony wreath
and drink that lake up? There it stands, aloft in oil.
Will ‘t please you rise? Shall we discuss Romantic themes,
the beauty of imagination’s bounds aboil,
a plethora of figures in a fairyland of ease,
or not—small canvas of a lot far from the soil?

Beau Ecs Wilder is a poet and art critic of the 19th century. A lover of beauty, his ekphrastic poetry strives to captur in his verse some of the qualities found in the paintings he revisions. The poetic form he returns to is a bilding (derived from the German word Bild, i. e. picture), a poetic snapshot as it were created by Uwe Carl Diebes in Germany in the 1970s.

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The Artiste
          by Red Was Iceblue

He loved to plop down on a bed, kick back and stretch his legs,
exactly like a protein lover having scrambled eggs.
He’d fold his legs up working on a puzzle with his pen.
Is this not heaven? he would ask, this am-ple-est of men.
He’d cross his ankles, mulling over getting to the top,
or falling to the bottom, groveling, a total flop.
He feared the darkness, for he’d never been not riding high.
He loved to reach up, o, and kiss the sky—that filled-full guy.
But, then, what would he do, when all was not a wished-for whim?
Would he hold up that well when force came down and hard on him?

Red Was Iceblue is a poet of Modern and Postmodern sculpture and painting.

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The One Locked Out of the Library: One Night in Santa Rosa
          by Cal Wes Ubideer
          in memory of Alfred Hitchcock

The movie’s over. The library’s closed.
It’s actually gone. I can’t get in.
Like so many things, it has been bulldozed
out of existence. “Won’t you let me in?”
I must find out if what I think is true.
I read the words upon the page. I grasp
at straws. The walls fall back. The room grows huge,
into one grand and sad, enormous gasp.
The summer air is still. It’s fresh and cool.
Its touch disturbs my flesh. I walk along
to home, alone. “It’s no refuge, you fool.”
There is so much to do. I must be strong.
The good is often buried with our bones,
and rarely ever chiseled on our stones.

Cal Wes Ubideer is a poet of California.

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Venezuelan Woes
          by Lud Wes Caribee

As Socialist experiment Venezuela sinks
into far greater depths, a plunging country on the brink,
Maduro, striving for an orderly recovery,
has pegged the bolivar to petro cryptocurrency.
He has increaed the minimum wage sixty-some percent;
the problem is the shops cannot afford to pay their rent.

While beautiful Venezuela sinks into abyss,
upon its current strategy of Socialism’s bliss,
where uncooked chickens cost just 14,000,000 bolivars,
and hundred-thousands leave the land on foot. Who can drive cars?
The problem is the other nations do not want their poor;
Peru, Brazil and Ecuador are closing up their doors.

Lud Wes Caribee is a poet of the Caribbean.

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Anabelian Geometry
          by Euclidrew Base

The case of curves, which may be affine and projective, is
an instance of the anabelian hypothesis.
Suppose that one is given hyperbolic curve called C,
the complement of n points in a curve of genus g,
that’s taken to be smoothe and irreducible,
defined across a field K (a golden goose, Abel?),
finitely generated over its prime field’s plot,
such that 2 – 2g – n is less than naught,
conjectured by sagacious Alexander Grothendieck,
profinite group G will determine C itself unique.

Euclidrew Base is a poet of mathematics. Alexander Grothendieck (1928-2014), born in Germany and raised in France, was a leading figure in the development of Postmodernist algebraic geometry, working in sheaf theory, homological algebra, and category theory.

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An Ancient Artifact
          by Belec-Seri Wadu
          for Euclidrew Base

A Babylonian clay tablet in the YBC,
approximates an accurate root 2 amazingly,
to 1.41421…that varies very small
from modern decimal, and uses sexagesimal,
approximately thirty-seven centuries ago,
embedded in diagonals within a square cut so
as to allow the reading of the wedge-shaped cuneiform,
against the ravages of time and human nature’s storm.
The history of mathematics goes on to this day
with fascinating elements and points along the way.

Belec-Seri Wadu is a poet of ancient Mesopotania. The YBC is the Yale Babylonian Collection.

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Death of a Politician
          by Sri Wele Cebuda

Here there is darkness even in the middle of the day.
The Sun’s defeated by its shadow; it has lost its way.
Now squeeze the oil from your soul. Arise and light the wick.
Ignite the lamp. The darkness overwhelms the candlestick.
The cycle goes along to being and nonbeing’s song.
It will continue till eternity itself is gone.
And our willusion will lose Sunlight, when we take a step
into the depths of death, which only has a moment’s breadth.
His words weren’t swords, but they declared a war for victory,
namaste, passing soul, Atal Buhari Vajpayee.

Sri Wele Cebuda is a poet of India. Atal Buhari Vajpayee (1924-2018) was an Indian politician who served as the Primer Minister of India thrice, once for 13 days, once for 13 months, and once for a little less than 13/2 years.

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Taipei
          by Si Celebrade Wu

Taipei’s the major city of the nation of Taiwan,
located on the northern tip, along with port Keelong,
the capital, since 1949 of ROC,
the metro area, about 1/3 of Taiwanese.
Landmarks include the Baoan Temple and Chiang Kaishek Hall,
Hsing Tian Kong Temple of Guan Yu, the business patron god,
and Buddhist Lungshan Temple, Manka, honoring Guan Yin,
the mercy goddess who perceives the World’s sounds within.
Above the buses, trains and cars, the scooters, bikes and hum
of 7,000,000 people, rises Taipei 101.

 

Taipei 101 (Eight Stanzas)
          by Si Celebrade Wu

Some say the Taipei 101
looks like a bamboo stalk,
while others say it looks just like
a Chinese takeout stacked.

I tend to favor those that think
it’s boxed food from a wok,
because its sides are sloped and straight,
not curvy or shellacked.

Its spire, which rises sixty feet
is like a bamboo’s height;
though it lacks leaves or small birds’ feet,
it’s narrow straight, upright.

Now others say it’s based upon
the look of a pagoda,
while others think it’s Star Wars fare
in which one could find Yoda.

And others yet think it is like
a stack of Chinese ingots,
each piled on another one,
a symbol of abundance.

The tower’s planned design is based
upon a group of eights.
Upon eight columns there are placed
eight upward flaring crates,

and in each crate there are eight floors,
above the twenty-five,
which is exactly sixty-four,
to make up eighty-nine.

One-hundred-one floors climb above
the five floors in the ground.
The bottom is where shoppers love
to shop and hang around.

 

Tsai Ing-wen Made a Speech
          by Si Celebrade Wu

At noon on August 21st, Tsai Ing-wen made a speech;
El Salvador had caved to China’s economic reach.
She said: “Taiwan’s entitled to its place upon the Earth.
We have the right to freedom…No, we will not be coerced…
Though military aircraft are en-cir-cl-ing Taiwan,
and airlines forced to change their designations for Taiwan,
we must stay firm; this is not just a problem for Taiwan.”
When one gives in to tyrrany, it only makes it strong.
Recall “2/28 Uprising”—that’s when the Chinese,
the Nationalists killed more than 10,000 Taiwanese;
and now the Communists intimidate Taiwan again.
It does not seem the troubles of the Earth will ever end.

Si Celebrade Wu is a poet of Taiwan.

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At a Meeting of Senior Propaganda Officials
          by Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei

“Uphold a clean and righteous Internet,” said Xi Jinping.
We must cut down on spoofs, pornography, and kitchy things.
Unauthorized dissemination of the news can’t be.
We must clamp-down on mobile gaming, anything obscene.
“Reject the vulgar and the base…You must respect the law.”
We must not ever call a Communist out for a flaw.
A tighter grip is needed on the youth when they’re on line.
We must not let diversity appear at any time.
Strict censorship is necessary for the people’s health.
We must not squander discipline for freedom’s stalking stealth.

Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei is a poet of China.

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Deleting Avi Yemini
          by Walibee Scrude

Another Jewish man has been deleted by Big Tech,
the latest, Avi Yemini, was pummeled by FacePeck.
To FacePeck “hate speech” means one’s thoughts are too conservative;
they do not want an Aussie patriot to speak out live.
He’s running as a candidate rep in the upper house;
he’s from Victoria, southeast Australia is his home.
His foes shout out, aloud and proudly, “Auschwiz-Birkenau,”
and add to that more, “Bergen-Belsen, Buchenwald, Dachau.”
Australia’s in the middle of a war on speech, he says,
but maybe it is worse than that, an antiSemite phase.

Walibee Scrude is a poet of enamoured of Australia and Aussie attitudes.

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They Come For One, They Come For All
          by Seer Ablicudew
          “The Silicon Curtain has descended across America.”
              —Eric Awesud Ble

They come for one, they come for all, we see it on our phones.
The media elite is coming after Mr. Jones.
They come for one, they come for all, we see it with our eyes.
They make their backroom deals with dictators and their lies.
The apple bitten in the garden by the goo-twit-face
is smitten with its evil power, going after Grace.
They come for one, they come for all, the thought-police of text.
One wonders who they’re coming for, and who will be the next.
They come for one, they come for all, if you are reading this,
beware you may be next in line, if they find you amiss.

Seer Ablicudew is a poet of prophesy.

 

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