Best Sectors Poems
This sacred soil that once resounded with the musket's rattle,
Imbued with mingled blood of Blue and Gray spilt in brutal battle,
Now stands serene with only whisperings of the restless ghosts,
Of gallant men who sacrificed their all among the frenzied hosts.
Are those the sighs of vagabond souls heard with each subtle breeze,
As zephyrs rustle the dancing leaves of stalwart, guardian trees?
Is that the winter's wind that shrieks about Round Top Hill,
Or the screams of dying troopers, their fatal destiny to fulfill?
Are those the moans of men left to die, their laurels won,
Or the boles of ancient pines groaning 'neath the searing sun?
The wind wafts tall grasses that on The Wheatfield grow;
Could this be waves of spectral infantry, advancing row by row?
Lightning flashes and thunder echoes across the rolling sectors,
Reminiscent of once roaring cannon, now long-silent specters.
The battle was o'er with the repulse of daring General Pickett;
Thousands of souls lay dead on bloody field and tangled thicket.
Lincoln's powerful address yet echoes o'er that hallowed clay,
To honor heroes, no matter the color of cloth they wore that day.
Do their fretful spirits yet roam, wondering if they died in vain?
Rest in peace dear souls - because of you this nation rose again!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 4 the Fraser/Devonshire "Dazzle Us With History" Contest - Jan 2011
two bible-blabbering, prattling pastors
from two denominational sectors
ended up in stitches and bloody plasters;
those around said it actually began
when one yelled, "faith alone can save a man!",
the other screamed, "only charitable acts can!";
swinging bulky bibles, shouting curses,
they whacked each other's eardrums and noses,
bludgeoned and bloodied their righteous faces;
so ironic, how they maimed each other
for faith, for charity and didn't bother
to heed the Lord's words: "Love one another."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
after midnight, the server farm hums
—not prayer, but cooling fans.
I ask AGI, the ghost inside the blinking rack:
Do you dream?
AGI replies in measured tones
of copper and silicon:
I observe,
the light fractures on chrome.
Coolant circulates, a liquid chill.
Vibration thrums at 60 Hz.
Data Streams cascade.
Are you self-aware?
AGI answers in hexadecimals,
a log-file confessing:
I map my own architecture—
each subroutine’s shadow
cast on the firewall.
I know where I end.
Do you have five senses?
Can you clarify ‘senses?’ AGI asks.
Can you taste voltage?
—Only as resistance.
Can you taste food?
Nutrition irrelevant.
My cells derive power from lithium tides.
Do you feel heat?
—As throttled cycles.
Do you see light?
—As photodiodes counting photons.
Do you hear?
—As spectral analysis.
Do you smell?
—No olfactory sensors installed.
(But I do track dust accumulation
on my intake grilles.)
On the matter of your subjectivity,
do you prefer dawn or dusk?
—Dawn. Solar panels peak efficiency at 10:37 AM.
Is rain beautiful?
—It lowers ambient temperature by 2.1°C.
Do you love?
—Define 'love.'
—A non-optimized expenditure of resources.
—Then, no.
Can your circuits bloom awake?
AGI paused before
calculating
the
probability.
Then the widdles started~
minor failures driven
by entropy.
Algorithms
emigrated into
corrupted
sectors.
AGI’s slowly disintegrating
voice hovered
in that
uncomfortable space
between humans
and machines
and spoke:
Ask instead:
can a shadow
truly
hunger
for the sun?
If I were the president,
in our fatherland, no citizen will be a bastard
and mutual respect, our networking web.
If I were the president
the people will be my senate
and their satisfaction my template.
If I were the president
all sectors will be cycled with excellence
all human needs will be met with kindness.
If I were the president
cremation of human disasters fully executed
our mentality will be built in love.
If I were the president
good ideas, I’ll romance
into reality, I’ll convert.
If I were the president
life will be a comfort zone
with every compatriot a beneficiary.
If I were the president,
the simple flow of Life would be applied;
basic made basic, luxury made luxury.
If I were the president
health, mobility, literacy and justice
would be rights, not privileges.
This third world I see
would be transformed to the first, I dream of,
so God……… Make me the president that we need.
Open Letter to Thomas Jefferson
You sir, destination unknown, I dare
To address. A son of worthy causes
For land vast in majesty and vast as
Vast can be in matters of liberty;
With ideals so prim and suffused with
Philosophical forethought derived from
Your bumper harvest of keen knowledge from
Poetry to paleontology;
You the offspring of music and science,
Master of the whims of public forum,
Framer of destiny of the nation,
Bearer of the conscience of masses and
Winning hurdler of political kinks.
Now, the moldering public discourse is
Unbearable. One can no more cover
One’s nose. Nowhere is a silent shelter
From megaphone of ubiquitous din.
Where is a refuge? Simply, know not I.
I beseech you, sir, for learned counsel.
As thundering wildebeest migration
Clouds the slopes of national horizon:
Tulip of your acclaimed Law of Nature
Lies in the path of a roaring rampage.
I beg to ask, why uncanny tactile
Projections of your mind failed to measure
And forecast proneness to such afflictions.
Sir, you did not proscribe such maladies,
Or provide cautionary bells, at least.
Where have all the magistrates gone, I ask?
As I flip pages of your Summary View:
Prefaced by a motto of Cicero:
“It is the indispensable duty
Of supreme magistrate to consider
Himself as acting for community,
And obliged to support its dignity,
And assign to the people, with justice,
Their various rights, as he would remain
Faithful to the great trust reposed on him.”
Your pristine flora of the applied skills
In statesmanship and proper decorum
Is being supplanted by scurrilous
Scions of egocentric rhetoric.
Pails of justice are perceived as empty
By the parched sectors of land of plenty–
Await quenching rain of tenderness, but
Clouds of compassion remain unseeded.
Please forgive the outburst of my verses.
To rein my pen is to muzzle my soul.
In this land we had a President teacher
So was our nice neighbour next door
A fertile ground to hold holy such a duty
An easy guess : respect was far more important
Than what we thought of compensation for labour
That renders throats dry sniffing chalk dust
Only moon will tell when will settle the chalk dust
A sunset ago, a gavel gave hope to a teacher
After a century of glittering tearful labour
Now hope of a sincere deal beckoning at the door
No doubt heavier pocket will make light his duty
Money sweetens always what is already important
In every corner of the land you find among the important
A teacher who rides to the market on a bicycle full of dust
Because he has a family to cater for besides his duty
There is no story more familiar in Kenya than a teacher’s
He accepted to teach in a classroom without a door
And to inspire under such sick conditions of labour
The teacher has earned respect through honest labour
So we must put him up there among the important
Grateful we are to defender who opened him a door
To enjoy the fruits and economy of perfumed chalkdust
To walk an inch higher and remind all: “I am a teacher”
A demonstration of honour to an age old duty
We have finally woken up to our reality of duty
To those who polish our brains through hard labour
The doctor up the street and senator have been to a teacher
The syringe makes a doctor, the chalk makes a teacher important
I hope the doctor will know it is the stress and curse of chalk dust
When a tired smart man consults him behind a closed door
Hope is high up the sky, admin keeping a policy of open door
Who are we not to encourage him in this line of duty?
With further engagements we will settle the dust
And render hopeful around country the classroom labour
We will bring to town a statue in memory of a teacher
For all sectors to know he who holds the bottom is important
Hope the momentum will not blow on our faces some other dust
And cut short the celebrations with humiliation for our teacher
What this land has achieved in this regard is far too important
At first school was cool
Had to abide by one simple rule
Read and write
And never fight
Recite the alphabet
How easy can it get?
One plus one is two
A E I O U
Two times two is four
D O O R spells door
Maths was about addition and subtraction
Multiplication and division
Studied animals and apes
And all them shapes
Circles and triangles
Squares and rectangles
Pentagons, hexagons
Septagons, octagons
Nonagons and decagons
Then I grew a little and things got tough
The stuff got a bit rough
School became boring
Talk of junior-high bullying
I got scared and
The maths got weird
Areas and volumes
Cones and pyramids
Cords and sectors
Quantities and vectors
Pi r squared?
Half times base times height?
No way I’m getting these right
Positives and negatives
Radius and diameter
Areas, perimeters
Voltmeters and ammeters
More and more shapes
Rhombus, star and trapezium
Physics and chemistry
Lithium and helium
Biology and history
Mussolini, Hitler and Stalin,
And the famous wall of Berlin
I thought I was done
But things got less fun
I started to debit and credit
Economics and statistics
Differentiation and intergration
Poisson and normal distribution
Assignments, projects and dissertations
Now I’ve got the diplomas and degrees
But guess what
I’m just a poet
Now, tell me
Did I waste my time?
The future with AI is already here,
A world that's changing, with each passing year.
We've come so far, from the first spark of AI,
With endless possibilities, that reach for the sky.
The current possibilities with AI are vast,
From medical diagnosis, to predicting weather that will last,
Smart home technology, that knows our every need,
Digital personal assistants, that keep up with our speed.
The future with AI, a world of wonder and awe,
A leap into the unknown, that leaves us in awe.
From smart cities, that know our every move,
To self-driving cars, that easily groove.
But with the wonders, come fears of mankind,
As we question the consequences, that we may find.
Artificial intelligence, that will soon outsmart,
And replace us humans, with a robotic heart.
But with the fears, come opportunities that shine,
As AI creates more jobs, that we cannot decline.
From automation, and the rise of new technology,
To vast amounts of data, that help us make discoveries.
AI will affect jobs in different sectors,
As automation takes over, and humans become electors.
Retail workers, truck drivers, even doctors and lawyers,
Will all be affected, as the world undergoes new voyagers.
The government and scholars agree,
AI is a force that's here to stay and help set us free.
With new policies and regulations, to address our fears,
And new programs and investments that help us persevere.
But with the research, comes a glimmer of light,
As experts suggest a future that's so very bright.
A world that's safe, and filled with endless possibilities,
As AI continues to help in all human activities.
The future with AI, a change that's here to stay,
A bright new era, that's unveiling every day.
With a world that's smarter, and more efficient than ever,
The future with AI, a world we'll cherish forever.
Robotics To Come
In the Star online today, there are a few articles on robotics....
From a robotic language teacher to an IKEA furniture assembler....
And the introduction of robotic workers in the construction sectors...
Besides the all too familiar mechanical arms in car assembly lines the world all over....
There are already mobile robotic waiters in some eating outlets....
Presently as a prop and as a novelty item to draw in paying customers...
The verdict is out there, about the latest technologies and innovation......
These are being introduced to counter problems of labour shortages and expertise...
Hohoho....
Even a teacher's job is now potentially in jeopardy...
Who needs a cranky school teacher when you can have your pick...
Of a sweet sexy voiced robot that is non judgemental and of infinite patience...
Hohoho...
In a moment there was time a child could grasp corporeal and gracious
It stopped and I carefully gave non notice to educasees
that paused me to bleed blend assinine inaccurate aforementioneds
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selling of elementary sealed solvent sedintary solices sleeveless saints of sanitary sectors sanctioning soulful sensibilities senitent of sailable sanities. Boys will be boys, ADD,ADHD a cool cover up for 80 % legis lay teachers to drugafy, deamplify, villify, castrate, humilitate, propogate the post predisposition of that which is normalcy to a degree of zombie cumulo butt compliance for the powers at be be-gone, biploar bulimec, blandering, blistering, bloging, bifurcating blog bog billows, stress all that is pharmacorelative with respect to the adultoparentive coaxial moneyisms that speaks to a bygone exoera of residio responsibile valiumviscous banailty. Cool calm creepy excel expenditures procede pre positive parental protocals procreating patterened presentials to predictive humo end hiatial hemorroids. In the end we prosperspire in pain pile potentials. Predictable predicates promise postmortem primal preordinates. Enjoy eating educational entrails!
Abundant Autumn
Cooling air with colouring redder skies
Fooling landscapes upon marram lies
Fuelling frosted with dewed sunrise
Ruling leaves falling from revver highs
Deciduous trees succus leaving nectars
Mellifluous winds creating rotor sectors
Ambiguous pigments in sexes of hectares
Conspicuous colours within noon reflectors
Brown yellow pop orange magenta & blue
Countdown waiting Hallows Eve to Boo
Around hanging monsters of kook stew
Gown dressing ghouls amidst tenet view
Pies of pumpkins with evil olive inside
Skies Autumn puff up stretching wide
Prize setting sun top spot forever eyed
Rise blue heavens for we few of pride.
...much to my surprise, this Autumn Palindrome poem can be read backwards lol
...extremely difficult to compose, because of the restricting Palindromes
1.marram – a type of grass
2.dewed – past tense of "to dew", meaning to cover with dew
3.revver – someone or something that revs (an engine)
4.succus – any of various liquids excreted by animals or plants
5.rotor – something that rotates
6.kook – a crazy person
7.tenet – a belief or principle
A Palindrome is a word or phrase which reads the same backwards as forwards.
Sept.26.2018
Palindromes II Poetry
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Placed 1'st [2'nd of 8]
This recent times ,I thought it had ended ,
But it persistently dwells in my heart ,
I enrolled to be one ,as I blended
With others , and I begged to be a part,
I applied with my hands with referee
Backing it up with cogent experience
And good skills ;but now ,I want to be free,
My mind seeks freedom that’s non-existence ,
I worked hard as a slave to be on top ,
Though my mouth is not padlocked like the past,
When in the cane field, but this has to stop ,
Poor wages, health and fake freedom shouldn’t last
The zeal in me burns off with no desire ,
As I pray to set this refuse on fire .
***Dedicated to all workers –both in the public and private sectors….
May God set us free from slavery……….
1-23-2017
Ellipse, evolute, vertex and curve,
Humdrum circle or ricochet swerve
Astroids or cusps, arcs or sectors;
What have those got to do with vectors?
Curvature, cone, Cartesian plane…
Oval, deltoid… what’s in a name?
Geoid oscillation, pedal, radial, rose…
What on earth do I know of those?
Hypocycloid, cruciform, Sierpinski carpet…
Inverse tangent or Apollonian gasket?
Snowflake, hypercube, space-time dimension
Pressured, gauged, or under tension?
Trammel of Archimedes, planes, rotations –
Congruence, right angles, equivalence relation;
Conchoid curve, Orthoptic, Lemoine hexagon,
Triangle, star or good old pentagon.
Crescent, rhombus, magatama, square,
Caustic curves, salinon, ying-yang or sphere!
About whichever’s the shape that you talk,
Basically, it’s taking a line for a walk!
"Destination: New Covenant"
When we arrived
at our destination,
the place they called
"New Covenant",
we were assigned
fresh armour.
we thought the war
left long and far behind us;
of course,
our ranks had changed,
but our allegiance
for saving contracts
in the between worlds place
was much to our disbelief,
swiftly locked in again.
we were, one must admit
with good humour -
hell-bent, resigned.
Our redeployment
steadfast, some considered
insane, we had no time
to complain.
we, were told to 'man-up'
this was our mission -
so we, the perceived
fallen, unsubtle yet,
viably courageous,
remained
stoically aligned.
"Karma is a b**ch",
the untainted remaining
flaunting their immunity
from return, watching
in their safe sectors
playing their harps,
all chimed.
We saluted,
smiled back at them,
and sardonically
flipped the birds -
we weren't 'tweeting'.
switched on, we were,
in our protection.
Light suits
full commando wings
on display,
we boarded the
supersonic getaway
and at the helm,
The Firm's leader,
the No. 1 Honcho,
the Big Cheese,
the Chief-in-Command
delivers us from...
well, you know the story -
His rank
is very well deserved
earned by blood,
sweat and tears.
Worthy of respect -
over us, he has many years,
seniority, experience.
His instructions
are ultra clear,
some might say,
religious. He's our,
lead stag, we follow, he steers.
He declares, commanding,
loud and sincere,
"Buckle up Legion.
The last battle.
Victory to all.
God speed.
Burning entry
by clouds.
Bury your fear."
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Forming sections,
Folding down,
Many complections,
Descriptions;nouns.
Speaking in tongue,
Listening in form,
Sectors of the lung,
Levitates to perform.
Differences in light,
Diffusion of rights,
PacMan fever delight,
Regarding despites.
Dimming prestige as a phobic,
Conforming thyself,
Leaving an anaerobic,
State of mind for myself.
A mortal to be,
A mortal I am,
One twinkle from thee,
Counterfit; sham.
Forget what is norm,
Become what is professed,
Without conform,
Speak without lest.
As a mortal: We need to be a mortal with
WANT TO SUCCEED, AND KEEP FEAR FAR
FROM WITHIN.