Long Miscalculation Poems
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I keep hearing them say it
in the media these days,
we need representation,
it’s the only thing they say!
Now if they say it that much
they must be quite serious,
so I looked on into it,
and ended up quite non-plussed.
’Cause based on demographics
it seems to me rather plain
that if we’re to make progress
then we’ll have to make a change.
You see I’ve noticed on screen
a third of people look black,
and for the longest time I
thought nothing was wrong with that.
But then I say the census
and I was rather amazed
that blacks were thirteen percent
of this country’s modern day,
which means there are too many
getting jobs in Hollywood,
overrepresentation
I assume is not that good.
what people have lost their shot
of being portrayed in film
because of miscalculation,
how many folks never will?
So if we are to be fair,
represent folks properly,
start firing black actors,
or you hate diversity!
But even more worrisome,
and even more out of whack,
are the percentages of gay
characters that people act.
The way our TV shows it
one-fifth of the people are gay,
but according to surveys
only three percent feel that way!
Which means what’s on the TV
does not represent real life,
and if we cannot see ourselves
how can we develop right?
To balance out the numbers
means drastic measures, I fear,
to correct representation
means less stories about ‘*****.’
But that’s not the start of it,
look at the folks some call ‘trans,’
cause celebre in Hollywood,
are they woman, are they man?
See so many in movies,
but if we’re to represent
then I will have to point out
they’re.02 percent.
Once again they’re too many,
and something has to be done,
since being represented
is vital to everyone!
To cast so many trans folk
can really do lots of harm,
you’re underrepresenting
all of the people who aren’t!
Unless, of course, these crusades
are only a load of bull,
nothing more than a charade,
a chance to virtue signal,
so shallow people feel special
without having to do work,
a chance to puff themselves up,
look down on others as jerks.
There’s nothing people like more
then feeling they’re somehow great,
and if the truth impedes that
then reality becomes ‘hate.’
I suppose we could go back
to hiring on merit,
but they’re not gonna do that…
someone might call them ’bigot.’
Robert Sherriff - Australian - Poet -Author - Singer - Actor - American Historian
The End of Earth as We Know It
A Grave Warning to Humanity
The clock is ticking, and the end of Earth as we know it is not a distant possibility but a looming reality. In this age of technological marvels and scientific breakthroughs, we stand on the precipice of destruction. Our planet faces existential threats that could wipe out billions of people. Whether it’s the impact of a comet, an alien invasion, or the devastation of war, these cataclysmic events could spell the end for humanity.
The Imminent Threats
Comet Impact:
NASA highlighted the potential for comets to cause mass extinctions, which is a terrifying reality. Like the one that doomed the dinosaurs, a comet impact could trigger a chain reaction of destruction, wiping out life as we know it. Comets, with their unpredictable and unstoppable nature, pose a threat beyond our control. Despite our best efforts, predicting and stopping a comet is nearly impossible. Their sheer speed and size make them formidable threats, leaving us in a state of vulnerability.
Alien Invasion:
Unknown Motivations: The possibility of extraterrestrial life has been a topic of speculation for decades. If aliens were to invade, their motives could range from resource acquisition to outright destruction.
Advanced Technology: An alien civilization capable of interstellar travel would likely possess technology far superior to ours, making resistance futile.
Global War:
Nuclear Armageddon: The proliferation of nuclear weapons has created a constant threat of global war. A single miscalculation or act of aggression could trigger a nuclear winter, decimating life on Earth.
Environmental Devastation: Beyond the immediate destruction, a global war would have a catastrophic ecological impact, leading to widespread famine and disease.
A Final Word
It is easy to feel powerless in the face of such overwhelming odds. But remember, every great movement starts with a single step. Together, we can make a difference.
Rampant reckless retrospect rushes
The present blurs in blues
The mistakes of the past make me miserable and low
And so, I give up and the feeling grows
And in wait for time to make things better
I push living further into the later.
I don't know if it's butterflies and sunshine, later
I just hope to pick up pieces, as the time rushes
But do I hope in vain? What is better?
I feel worried so I look into the blues
Of the waves, and the moss that grows
I just give up and lie low
Down as the weed, in the roots I stay, much low
In hopes to remain rooted, even if they mow the green later
And then in good time, a leaf of me grows
And with that the past rushes
Far away into the grey oblivion in the sky of blues
Is that it? Will that be better?
Is living in later or present better?
How do I duck every time and stay low?
Is future colourful or just shades of blues?
And then again, I wait for later,
And with that all my time rushes,
My youth and life is spent, and the autumn grows.
Or do I try, and fight the past clumsily and my present grows
Maybe things will shape for worse or just get better
A calculated risk, but miscalculation in my head rushes
Or as decided, should I stay low?
Or maybe fighting today becomes synonymous to later
The tipping scale of probability plunges me in dark and blues
Is it all clues I look for in my moods of blues
A clue for bliss and happiness, a feeling of numbness grows
Today makes sense, not unpredictable later
If I want to live the best I gotta try to make it better
I have stayed for a long while, down and low
Now with my present I walk, unprepared, wherever it rushes.
And in all the blues, and the running second that rushes
The more low I feel, with actions the strength grows
In hopes of better, if I work now, maybe all I wish comes to me later
Russia's losses have been greater with their Ukrainian invasion
Compared to nine years in Afghanistan, another miscalculation
Many towns and cities in Ukraine are now being taken back
As Ukrainian defenders launch, a devastating counter attack.
At a river in the Donbas region the Russians tried to cross
But were met with fierce resistance and suffered a great loss
An entire Russian battalion with tanks and vehicles too
Have met with a horrific end, as Ukrainian missiles flew.
How many more losses can the cowardly Russians take?
But they'll never admit, that they have made a grave mistake
Their substandard ageing weapons are being put to the test
And are no match for NATO weapons, which are simply the best.
The first war criminal is in the dock, and his trial is underway
For an act of cold blooded murder and with his freedom he'll pay
He'll no doubt serve time in a prison cell ,for a very long time
But surely that is too lenient and he should be hung for his crime.
Russia will never conquer Ukraine and it's a war they won't win
The civilised world is sending a clear message to Vladimar Putin
Russia's botched invasion has now caused NATO to expand
Two more countries will now join the alliance, Sweden and Finland.
Russia is threatening the West and NATO, saying it may go nuclear
It's just sabre rattling on their part and they're trying to instil fear
Even if they launched their missiles, it would invoke article five
The Russian state would cease to exist and they wouldn't survive.
Russia should now do the honourable thing and admit defeat
And for Putin to give the order to his forces, in Ukraine to retreat
Acts of aggression won't be tolerated and the west will not give way
And if you invade a peaceful country, then a high price you will pay.
Written 15th May 2022
Battery Check
I had better say this before it is too late
& I'm doing a battery check
down at the School of the Americas
badda boom mafia rim shot
the old wisdoms are newly or neo-inadequate
all of them every one
even the Arctic and Antarctic ones
he was a master of pedestrian insights
banal bourgeoisie profundities
packaged for the pop psychology lecture circuit
which hasn't got the people smarter faster
because buzzard shadows make the dogs bark
fangs missing the juggler completely
such a klutz whose eyes see nothing
the smell of carrion fur
has him growling at my lunarscape
drips blood across my dying lips
after the blackness of the old battle
and
amen
good observation kid
state of pure vulnerability
how much delusion can we rid ourselves of
while remaining ambulatory and sane
begging for rescue or a signal from the North
like a black widow at the movies
web over the projection hole
making time into the enemy
when it should be the enema
or obsolete as clown paint
and the pet tarantula craze
every kid had one beaten into him
in a wilderness of anachronisms
where it's the adrenals vs. the endorphins
both of them a film noir fun house mirror
one with a severe penalty for miscalculation
the other giving us the freedom
to destroy our soul
you need only see the obvious
criminally reckless manhood
hypochondriac womanhood
foretelling the future ain't a big deal
a child with a gun can do it
gun because nobody wants to hear it
apparently we haven't invented
pain free illumination yet
batteries not included
because they are not needed
because we are modifiable
in a good way
by our own hand
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.site11.com/
we …
sat here once …
so long ago it’s a dream -
a mirage of another life,
like a desert’s distant, fiery fog …
we were brine,
I, salt to your water -
churning surf that broke upon another -
that reef … HER,
(your bestie - my paramour) …
we three, dangling lazily in
the summer doldrums,
filling empty space awaiting the
pending promises of
autumn.
but now,
we are ripples, expanding -
outward … away -
yesterday’s onerous ache …
the echo of three young fools in a whirlwind,
spun from the high fells to the
heathered meadows,
from the meadows to the ocean’s
toothy hem,
from that jagged break to an
abyss, unforgiving …
where those moments,
those dear, precious, idiotic instances -
callow, quick and careless -
are now and forever …
drowned.
yet …
I remember your wit,
(a woman’s wit, tho’ just a girl) -
its bloom AND its blade -
oft’ to coax a smile,
but also,
ever prowling for a miscalculation,
ready to pounce …
I close my eyes and recall the
honey of her lips,
and what hid beneath the short-sleeve
tickle of cashmere,
how my eager hands, like Braille,
could not read her enough -
never enough …
how the candy of her mouth was
like melting sugar,
and how the odd trio we comprised -
the twined, chaotic tensions -
always hung there, obvious but oblique,
like mistletoe left …
until May.
now …
eyes opened,
I say a word-or-two,
toss the mental wreath, (roses withered),
dust the illusory ashes,
pull a long breath deeply IN,
and blow it out hard -
hard enough to make ripples on the
water’s moonlit surface -
or, perhaps …
they came from below,
bubbles of a gasp …
the last gulp of our trio’s torrid, tender memory,
giving up the ghost …
to the deep.
we …
sat here once …
so long ago it’s a dream -
a mirage of another life,
like a desert’s distant, fiery fog …
we were brine,
I, salt to your water -
churning surf that broke upon another -
that reef … HER,
(your bestie - my paramour) …
we three, dangling lazily in
the summer doldrums,
filling empty space awaiting the
pending promises of
autumn.
but now,
we are ripples, expanding -
outward … away -
yesterday’s onerous ache …
the echo of three young fools in a whirlwind,
spun from the high fells to the
heathered meadows,
from the meadows to the ocean’s
toothy hem,
from that jagged break to an
abyss, unforgiving …
where those moments,
those dear, precious, idiotic instances -
callow, quick and careless -
are now and forever …
drowned.
yet …
I remember your wit,
(a woman’s wit, tho’ just a girl) -
its bloom AND its blade -
oft’ to coax a smile,
but also,
ever prowling for a miscalculation,
ready to pounce …
I close my eyes and recall the
honey of her lips,
and what hid beneath the short-sleeve
tickle of cashmere,
how my eager hands, like Braille,
could not read her enough -
never enough …
how the candy of her mouth was
like melting sugar,
and how the odd trio we comprised -
the twined, chaotic tensions -
always hung there, obvious but oblique,
like mistletoe left …
until May.
now …
eyes opened,
I say a word-or-two,
toss the mental wreath, (roses withered),
dust the illusory ashes,
pull a long breath deeply IN,
and blow it out hard -
hard enough to make ripples on the
water’s moonlit surface -
or, perhaps …
they came from below,
bubbles of a gasp …
the last gulp of our trio’s torrid, tender memory,
giving up the ghost …
to the deep.
General data protection regulation hits the internet running
Disrupting models of personal data manipulation, dissemination and protection
In scenarios where click and trick firms gunning
Through stealth and miscalculation
Harvest personal data
Share it, carve it, analyze it and synthesize it
Commoditizing data on a silver platter
Turning owners of data into a misfit
Whose role becomes peripheral to the resources
Inherent in the data hitherto unprotected
In environments where unknown algorithms catch data from personal sources
Converting it into commodities whose preselected
Models yield colossal sums in profit and loss accounts
That swell coffers
Bursting to the brim with huge zillion counts
Which personal information confers
On business moguls now battling for their lives
Confronting upfront a new reality
In which GDPR offers
Checks and balances to terminate the surreality
Where multinational corporations
Can no longer harvest personal information
In clandestine operations
Through intrigue and misinformation
Cornering data owners whom they render irrelevant
Milking them to the bone
Burying their rights to consent on data use as a subservient servant
Whom they harry in a dismissive tone
Until GDPR turns the tables
Demanding clarity in genuine consent
Disassociated from stables
When the subterfuge of terms and conditions suffers a descent
Into irrelevance
Which opacity
For too long hid in the lance and dance
With scorn in usury city
Adding salt to injury
Blackmailing data owners
Through perjury
Hidden and driven in motives of illicit profit spawners and partners.
SMOKING WILL KILL YOU
He said “Smoking will kill you!”
catching the faint smell, scanning
for ash trays as he entered her apartment,
ready to accept months of miscalculation
of red lips and laughter, dark hair and desire,
intellect and intrigue and a hint of tobacco smell
that was surely the fine residue of her
colleagues, family or friends
“I do not smoke!” she said, mildly insulted
“Yes, I have cigarettes and a lighter but I don’t take
them to work! I don’t take them to the gym or on my
early morning run, not to chorale practice or to visit with
my friends, never to the market or to the plaza nearby,
nor the home of my parents or to local restaurants!
But every evening after dinner I have a single cigarette
with a glass of good red wine!”
“And what do you do after that?”
he asked with simmering sarcasm, the rhythm of her
high heels gliding across the kitchen to a samba he
couldn’t hear
“I read fascinating books and listen to my music!”
she said, pouring two glasses of Chilean carmenere,
fingering her lighter, reaching into her purse for
that flat golden case
“But I’ve decided that I want you, and for all the right
reasons! So tonight, if you behave, I’ll put the
reading aside”!
“I am not one of your privileges” he softly suggested,
his bushy black beard almost masking the smile on
his mahogany face
“And I am not a problem to be solved” she responded,
handing him his wine, her playful green eyes
shining in the flame of a small golden lighter
and the soft glowing promise
of a long life together!
A gardener, I became by chance
a purposeful man with detailed plans
With a thought for each exigency
and a strategy for each contingency
I organized and theorized
I categorized, I normalized
I estimated and resized
and finally, I stabilized
I did this from a calm perspective
all done with the express objective
to prepare a comprehensive list
for mitigating potential risks
I worked, I worried,
I watched in horror
as my garden finally failed to bloom
Where did I fall? Which step was missed?
What miscalculation wrought this doom?
I sat in thought
(and deep in shame)
that what I'd wrought
had somehow failed
What was the task I had not caught?
(Or, was there something else to blame?)
Gantt chart, always at the ready
I began again, to make a plan
Pen in hand, as ever steady
a logical, beast; a thinking man
No change; no matter what I tried
the garden was again in ruins
at wit's end then, I simply sighed
and whistled doleful, mournful tunes
But then, a sunbeam warmly shone
upon my face, right through the pane
as I looked, I saw the rain had gone
that was the point, that I grew sane
I ministered lovingly to my plot
with patience and humility
gratefully accepting what I got
and forgetting old futility
No more planning, no more flailing
I saw the sun and rain as friends
Loving both despite their failings
and thankful for what each one lends
I watched in peace my garden grow
my focus reduced to just a glance,
indebted for what I'd come to know
that all things truly come by chance
Form: