Wise Words with Bruce Wise

 

KV2
          by I. E. Sbase Weruld

An asteroid three times as lengthy as a football field
was whizzing past our planet this week: length: 1,000 feet.
Gigantic rock 2008 KV2 has passed by,
Was it 4.2 million miles from the Earthly sky?
Within .045 AUs, it’s dangerous star-crust;
this close encounter had the chance of being hazardous.
This Near Earth Object now is travelling quite fast indeed—
at more than 40,000 kilo-metres is its speed.
Success. It missed the Earth this time. It left behind no ghost.
But it’s the kind of guest we Earthlings do not want to host.

I. E. Sbace Weruld is a poet of outer space.

~~~

Tanka
          by “Wired Clues” Abe

A single, small slug
touched an electric cable,
and burned to a crisp.
A massive power failure:
twenty-six high-speed trains stopped.

Haiku
          by “Lice Brews” Ueda

About the large oak,
a plethora of fireflies
lights up the night sky.

“Wired Clues” Abe and “Lice Brews” Ueda are poets of Japan.

~~~

Belt and Road (a song)
          by Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei

Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We try to make you take what we unload.
Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We want to steal what you have for our own.
Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We like to take from you what you can’t hold.
Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We push and shove until you will explode.
Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We put you into debt for our control.
Belt and Road, (clap-clap) Belt and Road (clap-clap).
We sell you down
………………………….the river
……………………………………….for your soul.

Lu “Reed ABCs” is a poet of China. The big news this week is will there be a deal between the US and China, or not, when the socialist Chinese market is not as open to trade as the American market. Companies leaving China are looking seriously at India.

~~~

Le Tombeau de Jesus Christ
          by Crise de Abu Wel

Tel qu’en Lui-même enfin l’êternitê Le change,
he leaves, leaves the Universe only his linen,
the blank white sheets upon which nothing is written
of the fury or the light of that distant dawn.

A few futile lines of Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John—
sad, sad attempts to touch that terrible minute,
the torment of that moment—the Sun sent spinning
with it, and, then, even that gone, forever gone…

hardly sufficient to contain the suffering
and the tranquility always there hovering
nearby, that purest peace, posited and opened

like the long dry loaves of bread upon the table
beyond the belabored birth within the stable
that seemed to go on and on and on for no end.

Crise de Abu Wel is a poet of the Middle East. The opening line of his sonnet, only barely altered from Mallarmé on Poe, means “Such as into Himself at last eternity changes Him”.

~~~

In That Dusky Realm
          by Aedile Cwerbus

How close it was—that dusky realm—o, wretched Prosperine,
and there I was alone without a friend or any wine.
O, at that instant, I observed the grim judge of the dead,
and I would rather have been any other place instead.
But, in seclusion, at the edge, I saw a poet there,
old Roman Horace in the forest of that horrid air;
and he was following along to lovely Sappho’s song,
accompanied by buff Alcaeus, singing full and strong
of troubles on the land and sea of those hard ships of state,
embarking on a journey through time’s oceanic gate.

Aedile Cwerbus is a poet of ancient Rome.

~~~

The Night Watch
          by Sir Bac de Leeuw

I saw them all, all standing around (Spinoza,
the Jew, Caravaggio, El Greco, Descartes,
the Doubter) pale and thin! (Rembrandt and Góngora)
the red table. I saw them all close to the heart!
hungry, like a pack of black vultures, hovering
over the one morsel! the choicest, sweetest part
in that shadowy smothering of suffering
surrounding darkness! And they were standing so near
that I could hear them whispering and muttering,
the lantern’s golden light fanning their faces clear,
about the shady wavering above! from the
window swelled gray with the ghost of William Shakespeare!

Sir Bac de Leeuw is a poet of painting and Holland. This is a bilding, a 12 x 12 syllable structure with an 89/55 golden-mean split. These figures mentioned are philosophers, painters and poets of the Baroque.

~~~

Th’ Atiyeh-Singer Index Theorem
          by Euclidrew Base

Th’ Atiyeh-Singer index theorem notes th’ equality
of topological and analytic indices,
for an elliptic differential operator on
a compact manifold; it came and grew in that bright dawn.
Atiyeh’s background was in algebra-topology,
while Singer’s was analysis and in geometry.
In history one can go back to Abel and Riemann,
more recently, are Hurzebruch, Serre, Grothendieck, and Bott.
and names continue, Hömander, and Nirenberg, as well,
so many souls, much more than these; a list like this will swell.

Euclidrew Base is a poet of mathematics and mathematicians, like British-Lebanese Michael Atiyeh (1929-2019) and American mathematician Isadore Singer (1924-present). Norwegian Niels Henrik Abel (1802-1829) and German Bernhard Riemann (1826-1866) were famous 19th century mathematicans. Just before his death, Michael Atiyeh claimed to have solved the Riemann Hypothesis; but as of yet, the proof has not been confirmed.

~~~

The Ocean Cleanup
          by Lewie Crudseab

The float device designed by Boyan Slat is back again.
Last time it broke, while grabbing plastic, much to his chagrin.
Now after four months of repairs, he’s sent it out to catch
some of the plastic of the Great Pacific garbage patch.

A giant C-shaped tube grabs plastic, some five tons a month;
by wind and waves it’s driven with the current’s constant thump.
Each six weeks then a scoop ship comes to pick the garbage up,
while underneath an underwater skein gets smaller chunks.

With satellite antennae, sensors, solar power lights,
as well as cameras, the whole device is quite a sight.
Within the ocean it is but a pail for bailing junk,
but circumnavigation needs to start with its first dunk.

 

Anthropogenically Derived Materials
          by Lewie Crudseab

As plastics travel round the Globe in oceanic swirls,
they end up in sea animals and also on the World.
On a Hawaiian beach researchers found a merger of
some sand and pebbles, fused by fire, with some plastic stuff.
Forged by the fires people made, these plastiglomerates
are anthropogenically derived materials.
Nut now a new phenomenon has come to planet Earth;
it’s plasticrust, found on Madeira, that’s by water forged.
As lichen do, or algae too, it crusts upon the rock,
and now is in the fossil rec. Sea snails eat it up.

Lewie Crudseab is a poet of crud in the sea.

~~~

Some Scientists Have Said
          by Ira “Dweeb” Scule

In 1975, some said an ice age would appear,
and by 2000 world war would come—the end is near.
In 1989, some said seas will flood nations, then
entire countries will be drowned, rainforests gone in ten.
In 1999, some said the Himalayan ice
will in a decade vanish, snow be gone, cold sacrificed.
2007 scientists said global warming will
cause fewer hurricanes, the arctic, ice-free with no chill.
And yet by 2012, some said more hurricanes will come;
and life has only twelve years left. But is that settled, done?

Ira “Dweeb” Scule is a poet of science.

~~~

Por Jorge Luis Borges
          by Ibewa del Sucre

…always pale, faint, relazed, painting a picture for
who knows who of who knows who, always painting a
picture of who knows who for Jorge Luis Bor-
ges, always painting a picture of Jorge
Luis Borges for who knows who. The lines fall to
the canvas, like rays from the Sun, thin golden trails
of what has been, what must be, or what will be true.
Over and over again they fall over each
other, like autumn’s straw harvests, or near the blue
reaches of the open sea, like logs on the beach:
that is, the lines—the undulating lines of Jor-
ge Luis Borges spreading to all corners of the
Earth.

Ibewa del Sucre is a poet of Argentina. The word relazed in the first line of this bilding was a Postmodern neologism of Beau Lecsi Werd, meaning “a little more easy and lazy than released or relaxed”.

~~~

The Passing of a Jogger
          by Cesal Dwe Uribe

Miguel Angel Valdez Hernandez, 57, died,
while jogging on a Brownsville levee on the US side.
Investigators think the bullet came from Mexico,
a small white cab extended pickup was seen on the go.
The Texas jogger was not far from Rio Grande banks,
when he went for his evening jaunt, among dirt roads, hard-baked;
but he was not expecting to be shot while on his run
by men who fired sev’ral .223 rounds from their guns.
The mayor said there’s “not a crisis in the city,” no.
“There’s no gunfire,” he told the New York Times, not near that road.

Cesal Dwe Uribe is a poet of Mexico. This week also Oscar Alberto Martìnez Ramìrez and his daughter were found dead in Matamoros, Mexico.

~~~

The Game Monopoly
          by Cu Ebide Aswerl

The game Monopoly now comes as cashless, if you want,
Community Chest cards are gone; there are no bills to flaunt.
They’ve been replaced here with a voice-controlled AI device
shaped like a top hat; players must dictate the rental price.
But this is not the first time that Monopoly’s been changed:
In UK branded Visa credit cards have been arranged;
and in Monopoly for the Millennials you’ll see
that players buy experiences, and not realty.
Influenced by Alexa, Siri and Cortana, the
Millennials are playing with a new reality.

Cu Ebide Aswerl is a poet of fun and games. When he was a youth he used to play Monopoly marathons on sunny summer weekends with the older kids in his neighbourhood, mainly John, Paul, Gary, & Marilyn. Now he is more likely, when playing a board game, to play Terraforming Mars.

~~~

Verse As Voyaging
          by R. Lee Ubicwedas

I, too, view verse as voyaging—new lands, nuance, and news,
when I have something to convey, surveying vistas, views.
I seek the heretofore unseen, the missed in misty swells,
but want the everyday and functionality as well.

Though prose be beautiful, I want its power and its mass,
to simultaneously catch a mighty mountain pass
beneath a starry sky in northern California,
around the universe and back to its unstable door.

Let me possess a crafted work that sits right…next to me,
where clever metrics, rhymes and rockets launch an ecstasy.
I roam the poem in the proem of the cosmic sea,
and pause to smell a rose within the prose of what can be.

R. Lee Ubicwedas ia a poet of journeys. He remembers once when he was driving through California at how many stars were in the night sky, and how vivid they appeared.

 

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