by “Clear Dew” Ibuse
Lightning strikes the sky.
Thunder rumbles through the air.
Rain splats on pavement.
“Clear Dew” Ibuse is a haiku poet of Nature.
by “Lice Brews” Ueda
Piercing ear and back,
a stinging, winging insect,
fierce hornets or wasps.
“Lice Brews” Ueda is a haikuist of the insect world.
Chinese Cyber Hackers
by Ciber Dele Usaw
“It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations.”
—J. R. R. Tolkien, “The Hobbit”
The Chinese cyber hackers, an electrical monsoon,
pour down on India since China hit Ladakh this June.
They’re tarnishing the reputations of such entities,
as the Defence, the I & B, and other Ministries,
and businesses, such as Reliance Jio and Airtel,
as well as Micromax, Sun Pharma and BSNL.
It seems Stone Panda and the Gothic Panda are behind
computer storma that even target other lands in kind,
like Canada, Japan, Brazil, and the Australians too.
The Dragon has not quenched its appetite. But that’s not new.
Ciber Dele Usaw is a poet of cyber warfare. The I & B is the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, BSNL is Bharat Sanchar Nigan, Limited. J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973) was a noted British Modernist novelist. One of Ciber Dele Usaw’s favourite novels was “The Hobbit”, which he read yearly in the early years of this New Millennium.
Wang Yuhan (Zang)
by Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei
You will not find Wang Yuhan (Zang) on Wikipedia,
nor does his wife know where he is. Where is the media.
On May the 30th, before June 4th, by the police
was taken to no one knows where, except the CCP.
Wang’s wife, Wang Li, had tweeted out a public plea for help;
but as of yet she’s in the dark and in her private hell.
Yunnan police are taciturn; they won’t return her pleas;
and she remains confined at home due to the CCP.
Authorities don’t want to hear of Wang Zang’s poetry.
By disappearing him and it perhaps he will not be.
The Military Policeman
by Lu “Reed ABCs” Wei
He held his gun up to his left, but turned his head off right;
he had been taken by surprise by a disturbing sight.
He saw a holstered man whose gun was hanging at his side.
It looked like it was cocked. He wondered what he would decide.
He gazed intently at the man’s hands on his holster belt.
He wondered what would happen next. It could be bad he felt.
He gazed upon his uniform. It was a khaki tan.
He longed to not remain right there. He didn’t trust the man.
His lip rose up, he held his stare. He was prepared to act.
He merely had to wait until he had to face the fact.
Lu “Reed ABCs” is a poet of China.
by Erisbawdle Cue
Sweet happiness does not just happen, no;
one must decide to be content each day;
a cheerful disposition one must hoe
t’ enjoy the garden pleasure can display;
nor is sweet happiness light-headedness,
although euphoria bring one delight;
it is the heart that holds true happiness
and brings sweet peace when one lies down at night.
So, when one greets the obstacles of life
that are so many and so onerous,
since living is itself a kind of strife,
a striving rife with woes as well as bliss,
then one must labour all the harder to
find happiness in this mad pay-per-view.
Erisbawdle Cue is a poet of philosophy.
On a Greek Amphora
by Acwiles Berude
Not hating, but engaged in game, Achilles and Ajax
are playing with a die, at some board game upon a box.
The artist working in black-figure was Exekias,
assessed by art historians as one of Attic’s greats.
The text proclaims Achilles tossed a four, Ajax a three,
while they are still in body armour, holding to their spears.
The scene’s relaxed, a pause from fighting in the Trojan War,
completed in 6th century BC—amphora formed.
The kalos name that’s on the urn is Onetorides;
but the words truth or beauty are not found upon the vase.
Acwiles Betude is a poet of ancient Greece. Exekias (prior to 550 BC – c, 525 BC) was a famous Athenian vase painter. An artistic visionary who, through his black-figure technique, brought pottery painting to high achievement.
by Beau Ecs Wilder
Reviled by the avant-garde Impressionists,
he was an academic painter—Bouguereau—
remaining till his end, a formal classicist,
traditional and realistic in tableau.
Across his canvases one finds nymphs, goddesses,
madonnas, and ideal bathers all aglow,
in poses with gold tresses, free from bodices,
and barefoot shepherdesses in a rural scene.
Despised for his licked finishes and modestness,
Degas referred to his work as Bouguereauté,
because of his formality and surfaces,
and frowned upon too slick aesthetic tendencies.
Beau Ecs Wilder is a poet of 19th century French painting. William-Adolphe Bougeureau (1825-1906) and Edgar Degas (1834-1917) were French painters. This poem is a bilding [sic].
The Light in Boston
by Cadwel E. Bruise
I first observed the light in Boston—2017.
It was so eerie, strange, unearthly and unheavenly.
I wondered what…it was…a puz-zl-ing phenomenon.
It was an omen loosed, propitious and yet ominous.
I was located in a fading galaxy of stars;
It was an unregarded yellow sun, a golden farce.
I saw it burning in the sky. The clocks were striking five.
It was a pleasure just to watch it burn the World alive.
I wakened to a daymare at the corner of the street.
It was the end of nothingness which had begun to be.
Cadwel E. Bruise is a poet of New England. Greater Boston has a population of around 4,800,000.
At Golden Gate Park
by Cal Wes Ubideer
Columbus demonstrated that the World wasn’t flat,
and so his statue must be toppled. It can’t stay in tact.
This week in San Francisco three more statues were knocked down.
Memorials of history no longer are allowed.
So Junipero Serra should not be remembered here,
though canonized just recently, such godliness is dear.
And Francis Scott Key’s statue cannot stay here at the park;
his poetry is wretched and his lyrics off the mark.
Nor should we keep Ulysses Grant in mind continually,
despite the fact of all he did to try and set US free.
So here in San Francisco we toss scultures to the ground;
so Golden Gate Park can be free of history for now.
Cal Wes Ubideer is a poet of California.
The Cameraman and the Student
by Cawb Edius Reel
The cameraman took a photo of the raging sea.
He caught its power, crystalized, from vast eternity.
He put his picture in a frame and placed it on the wall.
I saw him standing off nearby it, like a waterfall.
He was directing one beside him in the ways of art,
he pointed out how hardurous it is—one must have heart.
The man in green and blue was striving so to understand.
He closed his eyes attempting to experience its grand
and glorious display. In awe, enrapt, the artist stood,
a statue in the room; agape; while blind, the student could…
not understand the point.
Cawb Edius Reel is a poet of film and photography. According to Beau Lecsi Werd, hardurous is a word suggesting hard over a long period of time.