Spare the rod
You’ll come to hate the child
King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes
Isn’t that wild
Commentators cite Abraham the Patriarch
who constantly pampered Ishmael
Abraham watched his undisciplined son go off the rails
Not to mention Isaac, who loved Esau, let him do what he wanted
which led Esau to rape women, whom ‘for sport’ he hunted
So, Solomon really meant what he said
Abraham came to hate Ishmael; Isaac, Esau to dread
Yet if you still consider King Solomon an irrelevant old head
Know that his advice came with one proviso
A father must never – ever – strike a child when he is riled!
Around the world
There are happenings
Events and Disturbances
Right here at home, Poets are gearing up on their journey of life experiences through their writing
Mindset in so many ways
Passing the days gone by
Emotions surging
Cries into shouts
Needing ears to listen and understand
Words to express
Poets being their own Commentators
As words turn
The mind explores
As highways accelerate
Words become dramatic
Active and aware
60 Minutes Swirl
I want to belong to a hollow space,
Where no one can catch my tiny lace.
I want to live on my own,
The space is nothing but a trace.
I have found my own kingdom,
The disheartened enemies have learned some wisdom.
I have found my own gallery,
Where hollowness is never misery.
I want to live every day as if it’s my last,
The world is the beginning and, perhaps, also the end.
I want to live in my own space,
Where I can be myself, leaving behind every judgmental face.
I want to leave behind my memories,
Since memories stir unnecessary dilemmas.
I cannot undo what has been done,
I cannot worry about what is out of my hands.
Allow me to live in my hollow paradise,
Free from the tension of commentators.
Allow me to get back on track,
Even if it’s a chaotic maze.
So, the glistening aim noticeably passes by,
So, the dangerous motion formidably goes by,
So, the unknown one remains unknown for the time being,
So, one is ahead of the petty singing.
The one and only is good-natured and well-behaved,
He is favoured and well-blessed.
Though the great Guide is sacrificed, done and dusted,
The honest being is fit, fine, and well-crafted.
The physical existence is going to be dealt with,
The mirrored organizations are going to vote for the myth.
The glass is going to be blurred by its connotations,
The pure man is defined by his situations.
The window is becoming larger day by day,
The commentators are solitary soldiers in their own way.
The perception is becoming blinded,
The light is the only lie that is provided.
Here, the perfect human is the representative of his species,
Here, he has grown up with his lengthy speeches.
Here, he is no longer unknown or unfeasible to catch,
And therefore, he has everything else to match.
Friday in the big apple
It is 17.53 in New York
those who work at night are stirring
drink coffee, shower and dress
to look their best
This as the multitude drive home
for the week end
The police are busy, a rich person
was shot by what appears to be
by a charming man with a winning
smile, but was he a man?
We live in a time when many women
strive to look like men, because
they think men have more power
when they realize it is not, so blame
the capitalist system
Two professions are busy tonight
the police who have murder to catch
and the women how try to look
as feminine as possible, to entice men's
libido, they are more busy now
than ever before when so many women
strive to look like dowdy executives
with horn rimmed specks
more interested in status than love
The police will find their man, commentators
will blame Trump and the man with
an odd name, Elon Musk (is he real) for
the violence caused by unrestricted
freedom of expression.
What happens in New York to night
pales into insignificance, compared
with a world, at the brink of of a war
that will destroy us all
Perhaps with Exception of Musk who
will settle on Mars
Trump, the man
The mass media in Europe is as bad
as any mass media all over the world
also lazy and copy one another
and have in common a dislike of Trump
Sometimes, they take their cue
from the once-famous Guardian who
has a pathological hatred of Trump
snobbishly points out his liking for ties
the color and the lengths of this
menswear
They rage against his lies, which turn out
he spoke the truth when his enemies
told whoppers of the great magnitude
The fact that there was no war at his
the first presidency is overlooked or ignored
Those papers and their commentators
do not understand humor, and when he
was shot at and bloodied got up waved his
fist in defiance, no one had the grace
to call him courageous
His first act as president again will be
to stop the Ukraine war, expel illegal
and send them packing next will be
the Gaza problem, which he doesn't
talk about, but there will be a solution
Palestinians can live with and Have to
accept, thus the threat of a nuclear
will be over
If I could, I would vote for Trump he is
the dike that can stop the income tide
of an all-out war
The speech was reassuring,
The delivery was fine
And only one or two real whackos
Seemed to cross the line.
The commentators noticed that
Republicans all sat,
With stony faces and no clapping
For the Democrat.
In other years, some issues would
Unite the gathered crew,
But here’s my theory – MAGA folk
Are scared of you-know-who.
I wouldn’t be surprised to learn
That some were paid to note
If any “traitors” might have clapped,
For that would get his goat.
And all who weren’t loyal
Would be punished; so, in fear,
They dare not jeopardize the one
Who might end their career.
Samantha, my cat, put on her glasses
and sat by the tv today..
Besides being cute she's very astute
at keeping winter blues at bay..
When she can't find her pen, she'll
turn on CNN and see what their
commentators say,
but it's really not her turf so other
channels she'd surf, until she saw some thing okay..
Samantha found the Migration of Birds and if a cat
could speak words, "that documentary was awesome" she'd say.
"In the light of day, we are ceaselessly, inadvertently trying to reflect versions of ourselves. And thus, night allures."
Quote by poet
Darkness has fallen
The shadows cover me
I can stop my reflections
Within these mild-minutes
Safe are my imperfections
Guarded from the darts they shoot.
Let me rest for tonight
Mend the pseudo-patches
Mere moments not hold their convictions
No intruders, commentators
No speech of deprecation;
I can dress their part
When the light falls again.
11th April 2023
The skater falls
The girl bawls
The agony of mistake
So much to forsake
Dreams realized
Fans and commentators idealize
A flawless routine
An injury not foreseen
The blade glides
The coach guides
The thrill of winning
Their head spinning
The loser's misfortune
Points earned, only a portion
Their head bowed in emotional upset
Replaying the error, lots of regret
The winner soars
The loser closed doors
The myopic state
We live in a precarious world when opinions
other than the official ones are banned and ignored
I’m thinking of RT (Russian TV.
That brings news and analyses of current events
the commentators are usually scholars, intellectuals
that do not get a hearing in the usual media
I watch the channel and many others to get a perspective
of the world, we live in.
I Germany RT has been banned because of not having
the right silenced. this is not true and RT is taken
the relevant authority to court.
Probably RT will lose.
There is in Europe and the USA a myopic view
of what we can say or do and many of us who question more
Will and cannot be heard.
This brings us to those who refuse the covid vaccine
they are not criminals but people who fear the restrictions
will lead to more restriction and when a constraint is in place
the likelihood is will be permanent that will
curtailing of freedom.
Our liberty to have a view other than the one accepted
by the sensors who works for the state against the will of the people
War is Lovely
It´s a hell of a war, soldiers running between burning buildings.
It is a great war good for sex feel the strength running through veins
blood oozing out of bullet holes and onto the sand that is the other guy´s
the person called an enemy.
Was this their finest hour defending whatever they have told to defend
Wonderful war brilliantly red, and women dream of joining them
only to find they are out of place; soldiers will rather masturbate in a fox-hole.
Glorious war, something the survivors can talk about in the park playing card,
name the buddy who didn´t make it out lost in reveries and full moon.
Do they see the green leaves on trees or the flowers; is it all death and ruined buildings?
Forever etched in their crippled brains.
Oh, I´m so tired it is hurting me, endless wars and commentators explaining the murdering
of the innocent according to what the think-tank pays them.
I long for the autumnal colour in Portugal, a place to heal the abused body so distressed,
facing away from the TV, screen that drips of blood or failing that of football boots.
To walk on old cobblestones and fallen leaves and remember that we live in a beautiful world.
Politics, politics!
Speculation runs rampant!
Words, and more words!
Slurs, lies, truths
And half-truths!
What is the truth?
Does anyone know?
If anyone knows,
Who is it?
Commentators, pundits
Speak loudly
And argue endlessly.
Reporters on the scene
Give us the “inside dope”!
Oh, really?
Is what they show us
Unslanted, unbiased,
Or does it merely
Justify a point of view?
Pork and more pork!
What’s mine is mine and
What’s yours is mine!
Graft, inside deals, corruption –
Where do we fit in?
Those of us who work,
Or used to, until we
Lost our jobs, our homes,
Our self-esteem?
We try to make our views,
Our pain, known -
We write letters, make calls!
Is anybody listening
Or is it all just
Politics as usual?
A civil war in the making today
Dividing the folks in the USA
I blame the TV stations loud and clear
They do not listen, commentators don't hear
They want to stir us up and make us mad
They divide us truly, they are horrible and bad
A civil war. I fear it is coming my way
We have never been this divided in the USA
We used to be one, a nation under God.
This has changed drastically, with a simple nod
Social media is partly to blame
Help us God, this is no longer a game!
We go to war
to acquire more
Land
We go to war
to protect our investment
the Oil 'neat the sand
We go to war
to depose your 'evil leader'
strike up the band
We go to war
because we're right and you're wrong
about internet broadband
We go to war
because your country is corrupt, impure
as your dark-colored hands...
So, many will die
wives and mothers will cry
the world will shrug and sigh
commentators will ask Why...
Whatever the reason
There's no way to 'ease in'
So many will die ~
Can't war just be banned
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