Hegseth whose wits seem to wear out in haste,
Wants his war boys to take TRT test
To make them fighting fit
Faced with Gulf War defeat,
And as correlation
Is not quite causation,
If troop’s T levels slip,
Blame undue stress, low sleep,
Beware, T-sterones win no wars at best.
_______________________________
Happenings | 11.07.2026 | humour, war, Limerick
Note: US secretary of war, Pete Hegseth, seems out of ideas as Gulf War is in its fifth month, as Trump and his team is losing its steam. He wants his troops to take testosterone replacement therapy (TRT). Crazy as the idea is he seems to have drawn inspiration from Odysseus who chewed on raw animal testicles, and yet the Trojan war dragged on for ten long years. He only won by deceit. Would Iran oblige?
There are pearly white flowers
that delicately sway
mimicking tiny dancing butterflies
within the lacy shrubs sector
breeze blown away
blooms of heaven-sent nectar
an attraction, an invitation
A meadow brown butterfly swarms to
its empowering rich white petals
resting, buckled, uncoiled tongue, sucking
scaled wings clasped, it settles
stupefied by scents, it feeds
bewildered by sugary sucrose
ideal prey for a spider’s capture
in its ampullate silk orb web
sticky droplets woven to ensnare
Asclepias incarnata, magnets for pollinators
Ice-ballet swamp milkweeds
amongst igneous rocks banding from foliation
rocks formed from cooled magma
gravy tones, an obsidian correlation
where white flowers string
In a momentums gain,
a brown butterfly takes wing
You wax
I wane
You yin
I yang
interrelation’s
correlation
leads to great gain
Again?
waxing
waning
yinning
yanging
dizzying
fizzying
doppelganging
nouning verbs
verbing nouns
how happy
we are
when the fair
comes to town!
Entanglement
We were bound from a single wave, like two tears fallen in the same dream,
and time tightened around us like a gentle snake that sleeps.
When I think of you, you tremble in the distance like a weary star,
and the distance becomes an extinguished song that doesn't know how to end.
We are two colors born from the same broken light,
slowly spinning through a sky that recognizes our silence.
If I fall into a shadow, you light an invisible candle,
without knowing why, without asking if it's still allowed to hurt.
Our love is a magic that promises no salvation,
only a deep correlation between two lucid solitudes.
We touch without hands, like two echoes lost in stone,
and we remain together even when we part.
When you look around at the world
How do you know
If it’s correlation or causation in effect?
You don’t.
The only way to really objectively know
Is to subjectively know
Which means we don’t really know squat
About the larger world outside our bubble.
And this ambiguity
Leaves us open to suggestion and doubt
And manipulation and control
By those with more confidence.
The truth is, no one really knows
The workings of reality,
Whether what we see is correlation or causation,
But that has never stopped reality from working…
(7/21/25)
Saying goodbye ripping through my core, stirring up sadness that is too hard to ignore
Sorrow seeping into the dirt of my soul while questioning if I will remain whole
Not pushing around the feelings coming my way
Instead leaning in to see what they have to say
Realizing the heartache is telling me how hard it is to miss
Leaving a hole in my chest the size of an abyss
But the correlation is becoming clear now
The depth of the abyss is tied to the amount of love you poured out
So give me the grief from loving hard as it's better than keeping my heart trapped behind bars
What causes war sometimes apart
from ungratefulness and a unwillingness and
inappreciation inherent in ignorance.
Sometimes the one who beats about the bush may
find it easier to strike and harm
than to understand for a sort
of let say correlation?.
Like war is something that may grow
blossoming like hope like wish like
passions?.
One thing sometimes still baffling me
is the audacity of ignorance.
R. L. SHERRIFF AUSTRALIAN POET AUTHOR SINGER-ACTOR
R. L SHERRIFF Australian Trump 2024
One could argue that immense personal dissatisfaction is necessary to inflict profound unhappiness on others. Instances of individuals causing distress often evoke thoughts of figures like Trump, and upon delving into the tormented lives of history's most infamous tyrants, the correlation appears almost inevitable.
R L Sherriff
Written: May 14, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, how life has evolved drastically over years,
Similar to constant river flow and gears.
A world has spun, and time has obeyed its tune,
Leaving a scattered path of memories strewn.
People who are remembered and revered,
Their souls are always linked, never severed.
They carried on with grace, as a cool breeze,
Leaving an undying legacy that will never cease.
Poetry Soup is a global portal for poetic words,
It values several voices from different records.
A brilliantly woven world of cultures and styles,
Fostering inclusion of any person without trials.
Metaphors and similes flow in tandem,
Build broad issues, revel in poetic fandom.
A gilded world where reality is ubiquitous,
A lovely site where word growth is felicitous.
Poetry soup is a fusion of body and soul,
When something fails to bond, seek console.
Within this colloquium of writing and rhymes,
We sense kinship, a correlation at all times.
Why don’t you stay home and play? The dog asked.
I explained the correlation between working and money.
You cannot eat money! Said the cat.
No, but money buys your kibble, I said.
The cat stuck out her tongue.
I don’t need food! Said the dog.
I need you to stay home and pet me.
I need to be part of the family.
We do not need you working.
I want her to work said the cat.
The dog was surprised.
I saw it in his eyes.
Why? Asked the dog.
She just stuck out her tongue at me said the cat.
So the cat is an interrupter and a liar.
Who knew?
Life together is a sip of joy,
familiar with each other's noise,
secrets shared together from the soul,
euphoric laughter spent like change;
hands laced in rings of wedding,
physical touch screams their name,
smiling eyes caught on film,
holidays spent holding you for a thrill;
hugging hips and dancing slowly,
heart beats in sync,
inhaling your scent and relishing its power
compliments lead flattery;
hands intertwined deep in prayer,
lives built on nothing but care.e
Some say aliens inhabited the earth
Before humans originally appeared
Pretty sure some are still living amongt us
Been running the country for years
Some of these yahoos are out of this world
With no correlation to reality
“We the people” was a great new idea
Though it surely dates back to antiquity
The patsies we are, we go with the flow
Don't rock the boat that's for sure
If only someone would stand up and yell
“We ain't gonna take it no more!”
At eighty-eight not too many to go
Won't waste my remaining breath
Conserve it for much more important stuff
Like cheering the Yankees till death
Some say aliens inhabited the earth
Before humans originally appeared
Wish I could journey back to those times
But that ain't gonna happen I fear
Wistful yearning for an air of trustfulness
Zeus' libido was famed for its lustfulness.
Who saved thugs till all wits were withdrawn?
No farmer ever wiped dew off the lawn.
Nor is tyranny feared or known as grim.
It was a depressing one overall, and dim.
To his love-stricken spirit and melancholy.
He repents of the acts and admits his folly.
Spread the aroma of a worm-eaten shroud.
Unrolled, it breaks or oils shreds in a cloud.
Depression is feared across the nation.
I crave your love; this is my correlation.
Tell me I love you if my mood is gloomy.
I'll be distraught, yet carry that light to me.
With vile lying, you preyed on our feelings.
I'm not retaining them back—it's stealing.
Written: May 22, 2023
( Not For Any Contest)
Pity the fool who lives by numbers
He counts his sheep while the sagacious slumbers
Imagines triangles equal or obtuse
Then numbers his thoughts by hypotenuse.
He dreams of trig and long division
Then stimulates his mind with a rhombus prism
Wet duvets caused by a linear quantify
He counts his orgasms by using pi.
Correlation coefficients make him smile
Exercises measured by the metric mile
A career built on a quadratic path
An idiotic devotion to anus numbing math.
For every relationship
we can rediscover
a season
of increase
and tipping point
toward decrease.
For every correlation,
positively resonant
and negatively dissonant,
a regenerative
becoming degenerative season
for building up and out
and tearing down and in
compassion
compulsion
recreation
tipping toward
dispassion
revulsion
decay
Like passionate summer powers
Falling toward
diminished winter light
dipolar co-arising
hope for continuous
contiguous fresh spring
cooperating green,
morning blue
yet warmer
cumulating skies
repredicting summer's
fertile
climax
passions
Re-enlisted
in four fractal
reasoned seasons
for redeveloping Earth justice
and restoring Tribal peace
Turning traumatic weaponed
retributive discommunications
into therapeutic wellness tooled
restorative re-communionations.
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