Haiku
          by “Clear Dew” Ibuse

Bring out the’ honey bees:
The yellow willow catkins
are changing seasons.

 

Tanka
          by “Clear Dew” Ibuse

Like early spring fields,
all cleared away, green and grand,
or broad, wide, blue skies,
the Emperor Meiji
wished that his heart could be so.

“Clear Dew” Ibuse is a poet of Japanese sentiments. Emperor Meiji (1852-1912) was a Realist Japanese leader and poet, who wrote tens of thousands of tanka.

~~~

Newsreel:
Iran’s reaction to the war, has caused some urgency.
The Philippines declared a national emergency.

~~~

In Dark and Hidden Cells
          by Darius Belewec

Beware of crazed men who desire to kill
women and children by blowing themselves
(and all who don’t believe like them) to hell.
They congregate in dark and hidden cells.
They cannot stand the pure rays of truth’s light.
With murderous intent they stalk the streets,
seeking fresh new victims both day and night,
reveling in their vile and vicious feats.

Darius Belewec is a poet of the crazed and evil.

~~~

Newsreel:
On March 19th, Iran hit Ras Laffan’s LNG field.
Its Qatar CEO said that has crushed potential yields.
This will slow down for many years supplies of LNG
to South Korea, China, Belgium, and to Italy.

~~~

If I Go
          by Crise de Abu Wel

“I tell you the truth. It is better for
you that I go away; for if I do
not go away from you, the encourager
will not come. But I will send him to you
if I go; and having come, that one will
expose the world concerning righteousness,
sin, and judgment, because [and this is still
the case] they don’t believe in me.” Selah.

Crise de Abu Wel is a poet of prophets.

~~~

Symphony Number 7 by Shostakovich
          by Alecsei Durbew

Symphony Number 7 by Shostakovich,
called the Leningrad, of 1941,
begins boldly and dramatically, though which,
devolves from the seemingly striking invasion
into slow, low-key, melodies, reminiscent
at times of classical themes, peaceful, serene, calm,
at times indeed almost silent, evanescent.
Can such occur in the midst of a brutal war?
It seems so sweet, so lovely, so beneficent.
But the allegretto does not end there. There’s more.
It grows and builds into a mechanical march
of soldiers and workers, driving with strength and force,
with a spirit that is powerful, grand, and large,
until one is thankful for a blessed release
finally. hoping for cessation of the siege.
Can such violent brutality ever cease?

 

Picture at an Exhibition
          by Alecsei Durbew

The callow, elegant, and contrived officer
in sharp, close-fitting uniform with well-oiled hair
and polished manners, who knew how to flog a serf
and speak Russian interspersed with French and care,
sank so low, he descended into cheap saloons,
and flopped down in drink and rags to the bottom, where
in basement dives, he viewed innumerable moons.
Was this really him? the once impeccably dressed,
heel-clicking social guy who made and played such tunes?
a clown now, his eyes big, blood-shot, his hair all messed,
his nose a red potato? Was this Mussorgsky
swollen with booze, he who had once been so modest? Mussorgsky

Alecsei Durbew is poet of Russian composition. Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1871) was a Realist Russian composer. Shostakovich (1906-1975) was a Modernist Russian composer.

~~~

No, Socrates
          by Erisbawdle Cue

No, Socrates, oh, do not ask what is it:
justice, courage, patience, or temperance.
Let us simply go and make our visit.
You won’t find virtue in the marketplace.

Erisbawdle Cue is a poet of philosophy. Socrates (469 BC – 399 BC) was a philosopher of Ancient Greece immortalized by Plato.

~~~

The Malware Memo
          by SubCIA Weedler

It seems that hackers breached a major Chinese Tianjin site,
and now are offering its data for a certain price.
This Flaming China group has got into NSCC;
while CCP denies Brickstorm broke their security.

 

The Quiller Memo
          by SubCIA Weedler
          “Sumer is icumen in,
          ludhe sing cuccu!
          Groweth sed, and bloweth med,
          And springth the wude nu!
          Sing cuccu!”
              —anonymous

In high school yet, upon his couch, he watched the World go by.
He never knew who Harold Pinter was—no noble guy?
He’d never heard of Trevor Dudley-Smith, or Adam Hall,
and had just started reading Fleming’s “Ca-si-no Roy-ale”.
He picked up an anthology of English lit’ra-ture,
when it was at its height before the recent twitter-churn,
where he found the anonymous words of that distant time—
the thirteenth century up through the Birds of the Sublime:
the Albatross, the Raven, Darkling Thrush, and Hawk a’sail,
the Swan of Avon, the Windhover, and the Nightingale.
He later went on to teach high school—varied maths and books—
and also poems from three-thousand years ago. Godzooks!

SubCIA Weedler is a poet of espionage. Ian Fleming (1908-1966) was a British Modernist novelist and creator of the character James Bond. Trevor Dudley-Smith (1920-1995) was a British PostModernist novelist, who wrote under pseudonyms, like Adam Hall in “The Quiller Memorandum”. Harold Pinter (1930-2008) was a PostModernist playwright.

~~~

The Wind and the Rain at the Window Sill
          by Beau Ecs Wilder

I remember it all so vividly.
Though it was a dream, it was a real one,
her characters, haunting so lividly
the world she made, related by Ellen:
those of Wuthering Heights, Hindley, Heathcliff,
and Catherine, and those of Thrushcross Grange,
Edgar and Isabella, followed by
Hareton, Linton, and Cathy. What if
there was one who could take in all that range—
from the moors to Penistone and the sky?
There it was—the mad, wild Romantic will
dying before the cold Victorian soul.
I remember it well—out of control,
the wind and the rain at the window sill,
                                                         still.

Beau Ecs Wilder is a poet of British Romantic literature. Emily Bronte (1818-1848) was a British Romantic novelist.

~~~

Life Goes
          by Bruce Dale Wise

Life goes so fast, and before you know it
you’ve graduated from high school, college,
and begin your journey as a poet,
never stopping striving after knowledge.
Then there are years in the military,
in Germany, and back to America,
where, at the threshold, you court and marry,
get a job, have children, and share a car.
You buy a house, build a yard and garden,
pay it off, and finish off another
decade of working. Your morals harden,
you lose a father, care for a mother,
send kids off to college, and just collapse,
as the days drop down and the years elapse.

 

The Social Worker
          by Bruce Dale Wise

All day long, day after day, she works for the Health and Human Services Department, and it exasperates her enormously, though she’s glad she’s working. After work she drives home to her nice little house on a cul-de-sac and flops on a couch. She undoes the top button of her blouse, cuddling like a kangaroo in a pouch beneath an afghan. She turns the TV off and then proceeds to fall into a deep sleep, warmed by pillow poof and weavy web. It has been a very tiring day. She is happy to let the day’s long stretch vanish into a time no one can catch.

Bruce Dale Wise is a poet of charichords, According Beau Lecsi Werd, “charichords” are anagrammatic heteronyms. Shirley Eleanor Wise (1929-2011) was an athletic, award-winning English penmanship calligrapher and diver, who tossed her son off a deck into a lake to get him to swim. It worked. The above poem, and the two following after, are prosems.

~~~

The Quaint Little Abode
          by Ubs Reece Idwal

The cottage door is open, inviting you to enter into a forest of fir and a world of midsummer-sun lighting. Oh, it is a most excellent offer. Come on in to our quaint little abode, and you will find things can be quite cozy. All may not be up to the housing code, and all may not be perfectly rosy. Still, this is a very nice place to be, even if it is only for a while. This is the palace of the bumblebee and the castle of the quick butterfly.

 

To Dave Castleman
          by Ubs Reece Idwal
“A man said to the universe: /“Sir, I exist!” /“However,” replied the universe, /“The fact has not created in me /A sense of obligation.”
              —Stephen Crane

It seems as if, as William Stafford wrote once upon a time, “…Yours is the only word back from the anonymous void.”

It surprises; but as you said, “Nobody cares about somebody else’s un-happiness,” and elsewhere, “You will be given a toad and a bucket of salt,” I gulp.

“And nothing more?” Above the blue heaven stretches as far as I can see. How can this be? Is there to be…

Ubs Reece Idwal is a poet of the Northwest. David Castleman is a contemporary poet. Stephen Crane (1871-1900) was an American Realist poet.

~~~

Another Setting Picture in the Eye
          by Urbawel Cidese

The buildings tower high above the city streets.
The many bridges cross the river running through.
There are so many sections, areas, and beats,
so many sidewalks, curbs, and corners in the view.
A hundred thousand people live and work and play
within this urban jungle, climbing to the sky.
It’s just another twenty-four hours, a day.
It’s just another setting picture in the eye.

Urbawel Cidese is a poet of urban spaces.