A Solar Smile
by Wiscee Durable
He knew he needed to be strong, as strong as he could be.
This cosmos is an unforgiving place—eternally.
Yet there are times when it would share its harsh brutality
with beauteousness and a kind of cordiality
The Sun appears, as it has done, so many days and years,
yea, decades, centuries, millennia, and eras peers.
Faint gold and pinks, God’s fingerpaints, spread over there and here;
lights momentarily move all about the atmosphere.
The rooftops are submerged in orange auras for a while,
freestyling and beguiling, a sapphire solar smile.
Wiscee Durable is a poet of lasting strength.
~~~
Haiku
by “Clear Dew” Ibuse
On his right arm was
a loitering mosquito,
decisively killed.
“Clear Dew” Ibuse is a haikuist.
~~~
Haiku
by Issa
Giddy grasshopper,
take care. Do not leap and crush
these pearls of dewdrop.
Issa was a noted 18th century Japanese haikuist.
~~~
Dawn Begins
by Ra Bué Weel Disc
In horizontal, transitory streamers, dawn begins.
With lavender-lined clouds in pink, the early morning sings.
The day lights up with paler colours, moving to azure.
The treasured orb of gold-red-orange overpeering Earth.
It is a brand new morning forming, like all those of old,
that rolled into our vision, o, so many times before,
and brightened up the coffee cups that we had slowly sipped,
brought to our lips—O, do not spill those precious drops, and drips.
Like pleasant raindrops lightly falling on to these parched lawns,
Time moves along consistently, as does the blazing Sun.
While watching, through a window niche, snug in a cushioned chair,
a slender, lovely lady walks beneath the pure chelaire.
Ra Bué Weel Disc is a poet of the Sun.
~~~
Newsreel:
In Hohhot, people have been getting asthma-like symptoms
from stirred coal-mine uranium-leaked radiation must.
Hohhot is a city in northern China’s state Inner Mongolia, with a poulation of around 3,400,000.
~~~
Farewell to Governor Chen Yuting
by Wu “Sacred Bee” Li
You rose up from the
peasantry and joined the great
Mongol Empire that spanned the
length and breadth of all,
from Black Sea to Fujian,
where you met your fate
in 1368. No
grief came to your fall.
Ming troops caught you and
killed years of lonely wanders.
Your martial prowess left you.
None came to your aid.
The wind of Autumn often
leaves one cold, and hurts;
the edge of it is
chill upon the sharp sword-blade.
Wu “Sacred Bee” Li is a poet of Ancient Chinese literature.
~~~
Newsreel:
At the G-20, Modi had new barricades put up
to hide the poverty in Delhi, Bharat’s capital.
The poor were locked down after they had been removed from sight
by tall green walls and posters covering both filth and plight.
Indeed, some slums were razed to upgrade India’s display;
schools, markets, offices, and shops were force-closed for three days.
The PM’s king-sized picture had been posted everywhere
participants would travel through his modified fair’s flair.
~~~
From Daniel 3: 8-30.
by Israel W. Ebecud
Therefore, in that time, that distant desert,
Chaldeans came forth to accuse the Jews
for not obeying Nebuchadnezzar,
saying, “Oh, live forever, great King, whose
decrees not all are following. Your law
states that anyone who hears music’s nudge,
whether on horn, harp, pipe, trigon, or lyre,
shall fall down and worship the gold image.”
An angry Nebuchadnezzar sent them
forth—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—
to th’ heat, some se’en times hotter, to end them!
Into that burning furnace they did go…
but lived! though into the flames they were cast!
for, with a fourth, they were blessed in that blast.
Israel W. Ebecud is a poet of Israel. Nebuchadnezzar (c. 630 BC – c. 561 BC) was a noted king of the NeoBabylonian Empire.
~~~
Newsreel:
It came from Turkey and Bulgaria, then stormed through Greece,
and killed about two dozen souls before it crossed the sea.
Then two dams broke when Daniel hit the north of Libya,
more than 6,000 dying in the east port Derna bah.
Derna is a city in Libya of around 85,000. Bah, here from Arabic, revealed.
~~~
Newsreel:
Morocco’s largest ever, as recorded in its wake—
about 3,000 deaths—the Safi-Marrakesh earthquake.
~~~
Wise Odysseus
by “Crude” Abe Lewis
He saw great Herakles, alone and bared.
Around him was a clamor of the dead,
as if grim birds were scattering and scared
in each direction, even overhead.
He held his bow, an arrow on its string,
forever looking like as one who ‘s shot,
with glances terrible of dark surmise.
Across his chest, a wide, hard belt did cling
and golden baldric thick with works of art,
with lions, bears and boars with glaring eyes.
It also had imprinted deep in it
fierce battles, quarrels, murders, slaughtering.
May he who has designed such awful shit
never again make such an awful thing!
He recognized me, wise Odysseus,
to whom he spoke in hurried, flurried words:
“Unhappy man, why are you also here,
Laertes’ son and seed of Father Zeus?
Is yours some wretched destiny’s harsh curse,
like mine of endless misery and fear?
I was made slave to one far worse than I,
sent here to Hades to fetch Cerberus;
and here I must remain forever. Bye.”
And off he skipped into eternal dust.
“Crude” Abe Lewis is a crude translator of texts. This poem, a duodecad, comes from Homer’s Odyssey.
~~~
Cinna’s Zmyrna
by Aedile Cwerbus
Cinna’s Zmyrna, like Gray’s Elegy, took a decade to compose; and now no book contains it. Nobody can decode its recondite lines, less read than German Lit’s Opitz or Lycophron’s Alexandra, containing prophesies of Cassandra; because it has vanished permanently. Only it and its author’s name gently occur occasionally, out of reach, on the sands of time’s ever rolling beach.
Aedile Cwerbus is a poet and proset of Ancient Rome. The above prosem mentions Ancient Roman poet Gaius Helvius Cinna (fl. 1st century BC), British Neoclassic poet Thomas Gray (1716-1771), Baroque German poet Martin Opitz (1597-1639), and Ancient Greek poet Lycophron of Chalcis (fl. 3rd century BC).
~~~
At the End
by Aedile Cwerbus
At the end of Hadrian’s Wall,
at the very northwest corner
of the far-flung Roman Empire,
beyond all but the rain and fall
of the English-Scottish border,
lay the settlement of Maia,
long, long ago. Only note this:
though it did not loom enormous
in the politics of the day,
and though it was easy to miss,
still, within its human chorus
there was, on the Firth of Solway,
something that had to be taken
account of, in order that one
could comprehend what it was
this time that had been forsaken
in the making of this vision.
So much depends upon what one loves.
Aedile Cwerbus is a poet of Ancient Rome, in the above threeplet.
~~~
Woden
by Balder Usewice
He was the god of wind and storms
with power o’er the dead,
though he took many other forms
th’ encyclopedia said,
as like divine magician, who,
by sacrifice, did will
war, wisdom, goodness and the true,
when hung from Yggdrasill.
He was the leader of the men
who lost, in battle, breath.
Valhalla was his heaven then
for those who died brave deaths.
He wore a golden helmet and
he bore the sword Gungnir,
whose never-ceasing thrust was grand,
as was his ring Draupnir.
Upon his shoulders, wide and thick,
two ravens perched lightly,
the busy Huginn and Munnin,
called “Thought” and “Memory.”
I saw his great and mighty girth;
it took my breath away.
I saw a god upon this Earth
fly by; he did not stay.
Balder Wice Use is a poet of the Norse gods. He was named for Balder, the god of love peace, justice, and light.
~~~
Dov Ivry
by Wes Caribu Deel
He was born in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, Canada,
but grew up in Saint John, with college at Mount Allison.
He grew up in New Brunswick, that two-language, cultured land,
which showed him there are varied ways of looking at things, and…
he worked on varied paper formats as a journalist,
with fierce fidelity and firm, prosaic artfulness.
In 1982, he left his home for Israel;
this Hebrew bear who sought out peace from his hard life in hell,
since peace comes dropping slow, whenever truth is not destroyed.
When younger, he was in the rock band called the Asteroids.
Wes Caribu Deel is a poet of Canada. Dov Ivry is an outspoken, contemporary proset, recently residing in Israel. New Brunswick is a province of Canada with a population of around 775,000.
~~~
Lines Composed After September 11, 2001
by Belaid W. Secure
Avenge those lately murdered souls, whose bones,
incinerated on the urban floor,
were ripped untimely from their daily chore
of work and service in those high-rising zones,
in those towering stones.
Do not forget their terror or their groans,
who like the sheep of yore, were killed not for
what they had done but who they were. No more
let us forget their hard, horrible moans,
in those harrowing tones.
Their blood and ashes sow the world with woe.
Oh, make the reticent, resolute, bold.
Such evil cannot be allowed to grow;
it must be nipped off at the bud, cut cold.
For only then can life continue, go
on, and the goodness of the world unfold.
Belaid W. Secure is a poet of gut reactions. The above is a Miltonic sonnet with a dominance in o. September 11th attacks caused 2,996 deaths, and thousands of more injured, in various states.
~~~
September 11, 2001
by Dic Asburee Wel
He walked across the parking lot upon his way to school,
and paused at the old bus shop shed, a momentary look,
when he was told there of the north Twin Tower aircraft hit,
a Boeing 767 crashing in to it.
Uncertain and afraid, he called his wife and family:
hopes plunged at the beginning of the new millennium.
waves both of fear and anger crossing the lands of the Earth,
obsessing lives with dour odours, redolent of death,
offending that September morning with such wretchedness.
He still remembers vividly that horrible offense.
And even now more than two decades afterwards he thinks
that Sisyphus the solar disk uprises, then he sinks.
Dic Asburee Wel is a poet of New York City.
~~~
He Heard the Jets Fly Over
by Brac Lei Uweeds
He heard the jets fly over; they were silver, loud, and soared,
while cutting off the pale roses dying on their thorns.
He heard the dull roar of the distant highway traffic go,
while trimming darkened rose-leaves from the growing bush below.
He heard the rumble of the train-cars in the city pass,
while tossing all his plant debris into the garbage sack.
He heard a revved up motorcycle clamor down the street,
while noticing the towering and growing red oak trees.
He heard the barking of a dog, and neighbours with their chat,
while hearing not a single plant, nor stealthy, creeping cat.
Brac Lei Uweeds is a poet of flowers.
~~~
Newsreel:
Did CIA bribe analysts to change lab-leak beliefs?
Are they commercializing scientific panel briefs?
~~~
Goat Cheese
by Carb Deliseuwe
So cool and smooth, and tangy too, goat cheese is very good,
with marjoram, some garlic powder, and oregano.
Carb Deliseuwe is a poet of food.
~~~
Mitochondria
by Dr. Weslie Ubeca
The mitochondria, the organelles found in the cells
of most eukaryotes, like fungi, plants and animals,
possess a double membrane structure, where they generate
adenosine triphosphate through aerobic resperate.
providing energy for muscles, nerves, and synthesis,
found in all forms of life and living biogenesis.
Dr. Weslie Ubeca is a poet of health, not a government-licensed doctor.
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