Another Future Man
by AI Welder, “Cubes”
He seemed to be a picture of the future man.
His scalp was hairless, as his body likewise was.
He carried an impressive stack of quite a span.
He wore a dangling earring in his ear, because
he felt like it. His suit was neat, subdued in hue.
No matter where one looked, one found no spot of fuzz.
He was refined, stream-lined, a sleek, dymanic dude.
He was a motivated individual.
It seemed as if he strove to be both strong and good.
He had a solid attitude to strive for all
he could. He was a person of panache and can,
who seemed like he tried hard to be upon the ball.
who tried so hard to keep his balance on this ball.
A Direction
by AI Welder, “Cubes”
I knew of one fine fellow, who directed me
to where I should be going once upon a time;
so I took up my legs, and ran in ecstasy
through rolled eternities and realms of the sublime.
AI Welder “Cubes” is a techno-poet. According to Beau Lecsi Werd, the neologism “dymanic” has numerous associations.
~~~
Haiku
by “Clear Dew” Ibuse
The young man reveled
in the temper’ture dropping
precipitously.
“Clear Dew” Ibuse is an haikuist focusing on nature.
~~~
Haiku
by “Wired Clues” Abe
As he walks inland,
the sunset’s exquisite red
lights the surfer’s skin.
Haiku
by “Wired Clues” Abe
The red cardinal
at the bird feeder sought out
the sunflower seeds.
“Wired Clues” Abe is a NewMillennial haikuist.
~~~
Newsreel:
Soon after the US announced eleven billion plus
in an arms package to Taiwan, big Chinese war games launched.
~~~
New Year’s Eve
by Sree Leci Budwa
“Do be, o, ah, do be!”
—Wilude Scabere
Darling, here we are before 2026—New Year’s Eve.
The white-winged angels flying overhead are taking leave.
Above the hands of time—the slender finger and the thick thumb—
are turning round the sparkling lights, champagne, and ticking drum.
The fires of life are rising high, the people dance below,
and everywhere one looks one sees a golden yellow glow.
Arms, elbows, legs and knees, fly out in all directions round,
south, west, north, east, o, energy and Bollywood unbound.
Exciting music blasts forth; at the mike is Whirling Cu:
“Do, be, do, be, do be all you can, do, be, do, be, do.”
In the Mountains
by Sree Leci Budwa
“Shantih shantih shantih”
—T. S. Eliot, “The Wasteland”
I saw him on snowshoes; he was on a white slope:
the only thing unnatural before my eyes.
He wore a pale red back pack, yellow-green coat,
sunglasses, and gray pants. Arising to th’ horiz-
on, near where he paused, posed, were stands of gray-green trees
that rose up to the mountains and the blinding skies.
One could not tell he was a poet in that frieze;
and yet, apparently with no surprise, one saw
he was at ease up there, that scene without a breeze,
a mingling of the ordinary with sheer awe,
so much cool oxygen one could take in, and tope.
You feel free in the mountains; th’ air is like a spa.
Sree Leci Budwa is a poet of Himalayan vistas.
~~~
Newsreel:
Iranians are squeezed today; pollution angst upreels,
like water and oil energy on th’ edge of bankruptcy.
~~~
Haiku
by “Wired Clues” Abe
An Arabian night—
Happy New Year in Dubai—
a fried Godzilla.
“Wired Clues” Abe is a NewMillennial haikuist. Dubai is a city in the United Arab Emirates of around 4,000,000.
~~~
Open Airy Africans
by Cur A. Wildebees
He saw a quadruped that sped across the grassy spance;
there are all kinds of animals found in Somaliland:
the lion, cheetah, and giraffe, the ibex and baboon,
the oribi and elephant, the dik-dik and kudu,
hyena, zebra, reedbuck, civet, and the wild ass,
the serval, bushpig, and the yellow-spotted rock hyrax;
and one may see on its savannahs, in a frantic lope,
those fleetest of the fleetest, the gazelle and antelope.
There is so much to learn from and about these animals,
as well as all its people—open airy Africans.
Cur A. Wildebeese is a poet of Africanimals. His first penned short story was in the 6th grade, the illustrated “Case of the Diamond Traffickers”, in which Zirdy the Zebra figures predominantly..
~~~
Newsreel:
Th’ Israeli government is the first land to recognize
Somaliland, with plans to institutionalize ties.
~~~
In Moscva in the Vest
by Alecsei Durbew
I didn’t want to be a rushin’ fool. I could just stay
in Moscva for a little while, for part of a day.
Perhaps I am not free. So what? Let me strap on the vest.
Let me lean back into the pain. I’m ready for the test.
I saw the men in camo tops and shades. There were two men.
I think that they were spies. O, God, the agony again.
They were about to blow my cover all to smitherines.
My heart was beating. I was freezing hot, and shivering.
In Berlin, I would be bare, lean; but here I had to break
into the beauty of a terrible explosion’s snake.
Alecsei Durbew is a poet of Russia.
~~~
Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Fourier
by Euclidrew Base
He, Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Fourier, was born
March 21, 1768,
at Auxerre, France, of a forlorn tailor.
Torn from that life, he was orphaned at eight.
Taught by the Benedictine Order, he
became a mathematics teacher soon;
later from the École Polytechnique,
he went to Egypt with Napoléon,
where he contracted hypothermia,
or maybe myxedema. Made prefect
of cold Isère, where he’d his Theorie
analytique de la chaleur perfect,
and show heat flow was not reversible,
in fine, equations wrought serviceable
Euclidrew Base is a poet of mathematics. Jean-Baptiste-Joseph Fourier (1768-1830) was a French Romantic physicist and mathematician.
~~~
Annus Mirabilis
by Edwar Lee Subic
On 1666, John Dryden wrote
a poem called Annus Mirabilis,
a year of miracles. He was not smote
by London’s Plague, at Charlton in Wiltshire.
His prosy quatrains speak of Dutch battles,
and later of the Great Fire of London.
England’s sorely tried, but is not rattled.
England was saved from total destruction.
Meanwhile, away from Cambridge, Newton made,
that year at Woolsthorpe, theories that transformed
the way we look at things, how light’s displayed,
how calculus is linked to what, perforce,
became in time, a new severity,
a universal law of gravity.
Edwar Lee Subic is a poet of NeoClassical literature. John Dryden (1631-1700) was an English NeoClassical poet and proset. Isaac Newton (1643-1727) was an English NeoClassical physicist and mathematician, who wrote in Latin.
~~~
Coalbrookdale Bridge
by Reece Buildwas
A semicircle arch, the Coalbrookdale Bridge, was
erected in the late 1770s
by Wilkinson and Darby, drumming up business.
Its span was over forty meters long—easy,
and crossed the Severn River. It was the first bridge made
of iron, and used up till the 1950s.
Designed by Thomas Pritchard, when it was arrayed,
it dominated the landscape with its massive
structure, as if it were some giant’s grand brocade,
mighty, magnificent, powerful and passive,
unsurpassed in design till that built at Buildwas
by Thomas Telford, a segmented arch classic.
Reece Buildwas is a poet of British iron bridges, sometimes. Thomas Farnolls Prichard (1723-1777) was a NeoClassical English architect. Thomas Telford (1757-1834) was a NeoClassical Scottish engineer. Buildwas is an English village of around 300.
~~~
This Engineer
by Usa W. Celebride
He came, he saw, he invented, Lee De Forest,
with some 180 patents to his name,
like the electrolytic receiver, the
Audion, and triode, each adding to his fame.
He helped perfect the art of transmitting sound
across the air; that is his most important claim.
Though he got caught in patent lawsuits; that was bound
to happen with such a volatile character;
and he decried that the broadcasting child he found
was dressed in ragtime, jive, and boogie-woogie’s stir,
he still could point out how he’d taken the wireless
orphan and made a radio—this engineer.
Usa W. Celebride is a poet of America, Lee De Forest (1873-1961) was a Modernist American inventor.
~~~
He Ate
by Carb Deliseuwe
He ate for health, taste. and for genuine replacement parts;
although he wasn’t all that fond of liver, tongue or hearts.
It seemed the science of his eating wasn’t well explored.
Between the various food theories, there was much discord.
Carb Deliseuwe is a poet of food.
A Mellow Christmas Dirge
by A. Sbice Redulew
It was the best and worst of times, the good and bad, as well.
We all were heading straight to heaven, and, as well, to hell.
His dad was dead, his mom was too. He missed them very much,
but his life went on afterwards, as do all lives as such.
He wondered what they would have thought about this brave new world,
this Universe, this blessed curse, in which all have been hurled.
He loved to be alive amidst sweet Christmas melodies,
bright Christmas lights, and taste delights, still feeling ill at ease.
And as he went on through these times, he oft paused to reflect,
what would the future hold for those he one day would forget?
A Sbice Redulew is a poet of moems redolent of significance.
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