Barbarians Are Here
          by War di Belecuse

What are we waiting for? Barbarians are here enmasse.
Enough equipment’s not forthcoming, not enough, alas.
The senators are sitting, legislating not at all;
for what would be the point of them creating any law?
Barbarians are making laws; they need no emperor.
Who is that sitting at the gate? the Will’s exécutor?
Here is a scroll with many souls and many titled names;
but they have come with rifles, tanks and planes to make their claims.
The people are so serious; they have become bereft.
The streets and squares are emptying of people. Most have left.

War di Belecuse is a poet of battles.


by “Clear Dew” Ibuse

He kicks back wryly,
left foot upon his right foot,
the mid-sized baby.

“Clear Dew” Ibuse is a poet of Japanese poetic forms, like the haiku, or the katuata (side poem).


          by “Wired Clues” Abe

Upon the sidewalk,
the baby goes for a ride
upon a stroller.


          by “Wired Clues” Abe

Bucha butchery.
Genocide continues.
Holodomor 2.

“Wired Clues” Abe is a poet using Japanese forms united with technology, who although he appreciates the Gendai movement and New Rising Haiku, very much admires traditional haiku. Bucha, a town of around 30,000, was the site of a massacre in the recent Russian War on Ukraine. According to first estimates, at least 280 bodies of men in civilian clothing, some with hands tied, were found murdered on April 2, 2022.


Shanghai has been shut down due to increasing covid counts,
as ominous new omicron-strain number-tallies mount.
The citizens feel like they have been shanghaied in their homes
in zero-tolerant, draconian mass prizon/zones.

Shanghai, a city of around 25,000,000, looks like a ghost town; though here and there, there are pockets of resistance to the Chinese Communist Party clampdown. Even babies, if they have a Wuhan Flu variant, are separated from their parents. Globally, there have been some 6,000,000 deaths, from the virus, since its inception in Wuhan, China. In the US, the Biden Admin will no longer be testing migrants for covid (approximate number of migrants entering USA border since Joe Biden and his Party took power: 3,000,000).


Supplies of milk, wheat flour, rice, and sugar have all stalled;
Sri Lanka is another one of those in China’s thrall.
Now medicines and oil products are quite hard to get;
a public health emergency compounded by its debt.
The government’s in disarray. The people can’t buy gas.
Debt-trap diplomacy has left the nation in a mess.

Sri Lanka has a population of around 22,000,000.


A Massive Cyber Operation
          by Esca Webuilder

The Chinese launched a massive cyber operation on
Ukraine just prior to the Russian onslaught’s horrid dawn;
including nuke facilities and governmental sites,
to s-t-e-a-l data, shake up guards, disrupt suburbanites.
The peak attacks occurred on February 23,
before close of the Genocide Olympics in Beijing.
On February 24, the Russians hit Ukraine,
and Putin was quite thankful for the gift from Xi Jinping.
The Russian reign of terror then began in earnestness
with China’s blessing, messing wi’ th’ Ukrainian defense.

Esca Webuilder is a poet of the Internet.


The Soldier from Ukraine
          by Radice Lebewsu

Egad, he was in agony upon the tiled floor;
the golden light was pouring out upon his open sore.
He wished he had a cup of coffee with his creamed despair,
bent over in the rubble of a recent bombing there.

He slowly got up in that hood; he longed to be released—
from all the trouble and destruction. O, he longed for peace.
His dogtags dangled from his neck, aches from his angled spine.
He lifted up his back, and c-r-a-c-k, his shoulders still supine.

He felt like as he was a discombobulated mess
in a Picasso portrait of dynamic ugliness.
He dreamed he was on distant hills, away from hellish war,
away from all the agony and all he did abhor.

Radice Lebewsu is a poet of Ukraine.


Felicity Ace
          by Bruc “Diesel” Awe

Last month, as it was being towed to Portugal, it sank:
Felicity Ace,
cargo ship and headache for the bank.
The giant ship was carrying electric, German cars—
“ignited from their batteries” and burnt to crispy bars.
Car companies refused to say how many cars there were,
among the thousands of electric cars in that fierce burn.
More than two-thousand autos, Porshes and VWs,
were in that huge disaster—oceanic—cursèd cruise.
The ship, six-hundred-fifty feet, sank down two miles deep,
while tugboat hosers tried to break up oil on the sea.

Bruc “Diesel” Awe is a poet of transportation.


Citizens Oversight Review of the Affidavit of Dr. Navid Kesharvars-Nia
          by Brice U. Lawseed
          “Woe to the people into whose language…Platonov can be
              —Joseph Brodsky

He doesn’t have experience in the election waltz,
the Hammer and the Scorecard claims have been determined false,
his acronyms are an attempt to cloud most people’s minds,
and these machines aren’t Net-connected usu’lly, one finds.
If what he says is true, it is, therefore, irrelevant,
ES & S is tops, Dominion isn’t dominant;
nor is it strange Dominion’s got so many entities,
and this last vote eliminated such bad incidents.
Conclusion: states should use the ballots that are voter marked,
and mandate audits so the fraud won’t be perceived or harked.

Brice U. Lawseed is a poet of law. Citizens Oversight, Inc., is a nonprofit Delaware corporation with primary offices in California. This “last vote” is a reference to the US Presidential election of 2020. Andrei Platonov (1899-1951) was a Modernist Russian writer, Joseph Brodsky (1940-1996) was a PostModernist Russian writer.


          by Caud Sewer Bile

The laptop’s real, emails, deals, and consumption too;
but this was known two years ago—corruption tried and true.
So these reports that show up late in corp’rate media,
are no more than leftovers and back-wash expedience.

Caud Sewer Bile is a poet of mental manure, i. e., bullshit.


On the Value of Manure
          by Caleb Wuri Seed

The Pennsylvanian dairyman Brett Reinford thought he might,
in storing his ma-nu-re last October, be too tight;
and so he offered it free to the farmers who would haul;
but no one took him up on it. No takers came at all.

Fast forward six months to this April; now it’s liquid gold;
and he is keeping all of it. He wishes he had more.
The Russian War upon Ukraine has altered all of that;
with the invasion, Earth’s supply conjointly was attacked.

Caleb Wuri Seed is a poet of farming. Brett Reinford is a NewMillennial farmer.


It seems that Texas is providing dropped-off immigrants
some charter buses to DC to be attended to:
the Biden Admin will be able to address the needs
of those incoming to America; and, too, their dreams.


          by Edcur Alies Bew

Disoriented in the morning, waking from a sleep
that was, o, all encompassing, a rumpus ring so deep,
like as he were some dude stuck in some frilly goffering,
he longed to have a nice warm cup of coffee offering…
to help him get up and out of his mental lassitude,
with more acuity and strength, a puffed-up attitude.
He hoped that caffeine would help shake him from his turpitude
and give him greater focus, make him much more purposeful;
so he could go about his business and his daily chores
from off those swirling, whirling, purling, eddied, jettied shores.

Edcur Alies Bew is a poet of varied states of mind.


At the Pantry
          by Carb Deliseuwe

He stood up on his tip-toes just to reach the rice-cake pack.
He loved those chewy, tasty discs; he kept on coming back.
He loved those thick, round, flaky treats; they were so crunchy, sweet,
he loved returning to get more of them that he could eat.
They were so light, he placed them high upon his pantry shelves.
He needed to extend his arms to bring them to himself.
But at the bottom was where he had placed his power drinks,
those heavier and caffeine-rich cans filled with jolting things.
For them, he had to bend down to lift them up to his hips,
and, with a turn of lid or tin-top snap, tip to his lips.

Carb Deliseuwe is a poet of food and drink. Food prices across the Globe are rising fast.


The Hiker
          by Rudi E. Welec, “Abs”

He was a hearty hiker from the time that he was young;
but he was not aware of it, and as such was unsung.
Those early days, between his studies and his high-strung walks,
between the early morning coffee cups and midnight talks,
he would embark upon such trips upon his wayward feet
as took him down long country road or urban settling street.
At times in darkness, he would sing off-key into the night,
or at dawn in crepuscular beginnings of new light,
like as a William wordsmith or hitchhiking Kerouac,
a jacked-up tire changer worth his weight in airy words.

Rudi E. Welec, “Abs”, is a poet of hiking, like noted literary hikers Romantic Brit, William Wordsworth (1770-1850) and PostModernist American Jack Kerouac (1922-1969). Of his favourite hikers, preeminent is the American “Mountain Baptist” John Muir (1838-1914).