Long Stalemate Poems
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There is no trace of them on face book,
No matter how hard you look,
It is no better,
To go on Twitter,
And you would not want to be talked in,
To having a debate on LinkedIn.
Letters to the Editor are now,
Just for show,
At most meetings you are kicked out at nine,
Which leaves too short a time,
For the subject to define.
Table talk is all but gone,
And you would get more out of debating with a stone,
Doing it alone,
Is hard to condone.
And doing it on the phone,
Leaves one headache prone.
Soap boxes are no longer safe to stand on,
And politicians only debate when they have no legs to stand on,
As having principals is now frowned upon.
Schools still have them,
And my children did well in them,
Though the topics did not make sense to them,
Yet like me they found Toastmasters a good fit to them,
Until they outgrew them.
Occasionally we get to debate,
Which ends in a stalemate,
As one or the other disappears out the gate,
As emotions spoil the debate,
So we prefer to play Chess than end up in a state.
A weekly debate with a friend,
Gives me a small dividend,
And cheers me up no end,
Even though we are often on common ground,
The table we never pound,
And a winner is never found.
Yet I still lament,
The lack of fresh comment,
That could cement,
An outcome half decent,
In a world full of the incoherent,
That is in danger of a fast descent.
I gazed toward the sky
In early morning, spreading
Out the window, light gathering
Seeing a tempest unfurl
Amazed by whirlwinds
The arrival of the snow
A snow fall so lovely
Dancing through galaxies
Freezing water, drifting, falling
In dizzying bliss
Whitewashing over time, on town housetops
Yards and parking lots sparkling
Cars, milky, with new drippings
With solidified tears from the sky
Whilst drowsy skies yawn away
With ring around the moon
In a stalemate, of frigid disconnect
The whiteness is obscuring
The greater part of the snow
Condensing like a vapor
As night sparkle rises
Walk puddlings develop
Swings turf to mush
Icicles trickling
Oozing, without end, every moment
Melting into plashet
Splashing, sploshing, wading
No more snowy, for any to see
lay
aside
their arms .. for ~
just one silent
night
-----
Light up the Lanterne
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
19/05/25
-----
The Christmas Armistice of 1914:
World War I on the Western Front had settled into stalemate. On Christmas Eve, soldiers from both sides spontaneously began singing carols - mainly "Silent Night" and "O Come, All Ye Faithful", in German, English, and Latin - which led to calls for a temporary truce. In many areas, the fighting stopped, and soldiers ventured out of their trenches.
This area between became a place of exchange of food, cigarettes, buttons, and even family photographs. Some accounts do mention soldiers kicking a ball around in "no man's land".
In the words of the 12th Doctor: "It never happened again, any war, anywhere. But for one day, one Christmas, a very long time ago, everyone just put down their weapons and started to sing".
---Sucker Moon---------------------------Phlox subulata------------------------------------moss phlox----
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------@---------------------------------------------------------Brokering a deal to end a war involves a complex, multi-stage process of diplomacy, often facilitated by a neutral third party (mediator) to resolve conflict. Success typically requires a "mutually hurting stalemate" where both sides realize they cannot win through fighting alone-------
A "mutaully hurting Stalemate"
using a thrid party to end conflicts or resolve conflicts
to realized that fighting could not solve the conflict alone.
a process of diplomacy would have to be used to obtain
a realistic goal. Teaching and learning in a manner of
resolving issue. Removing some of the edges to smooth out
the rough spots. To which purpose might be neither at least
the understanding of why the issue exists and why it it is debated.
brokering a deal to at least calm hostilities can be a groundbreaking
process toward peace.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------hugga dug and a frug will thank you!---------------------------------------------------------------
Australian and New Zealand Army Corps
Our ANZAC soldiers from the First World War.
Landed at Gallipoli on April Twenty-Five,
1915 was the year, at dawn when they arrived.
Their task to storm the beach, was thwarted by the Turks
Who laid in wait with loaded guns, and then they went berserk.
Before the ANZACS reached the shore, many had been killed
Others made it onto land, but to the bone were chilled.
Anzac Cove became their base, in dug out trenches lived
In mud and squalor, rats, and filth, but never would give in.
For months on end, fought tooth and nail, their goal to just survive
And for each other every day, prayed they would stay alive.
Eight months their campaign met a stalemate, neither side won out
Both sides of war lost many men; a truce then came about.
Evacuations sent them home, though weary, filled with pride
Because they knew each soldier there, stood proudly side by side.
And as the ANZAC legends grow, we will remember them
We bow our heads, in silent prayer, for all those brave dear men.
The Last Post then reminds us all, of what was sacrificed
So, we can live in peace because, they paid the highest price.
Christine 25/4/2026
Lest We Forget
There’s no victor and no vanquish,
The so-called rising sun of Biafra has been set forever,
It would be a disservice for anyone to refer to any eastern state of Nigeria as Biafra,
The tragic chapter of violence has just ended,
We’re at the dawn of national reconciliation,
Once again we have an opportunity to build a new nation.
My dear compatriots,
We must pay homage to the fallen,
To the heroes who have made the mammoth sacrifice,
That we may able to build a nation great in justice, fair trade and industry.
I imposed a blockade as a deliberate policy,
This was necessary during the ensuing stalemate,
Though it led to the mass starvation of Biafran civilians,
It aimed to compel the secessionist group to surrender,
And stop bullets from rewriting our history.
My government may seek the friendly assistance of foreign governments and bodies
especially in the provision of equipment to supplement our national efforts,
They’re however several foreign governments and organizations
whose so-called assistance will not be welcomed,
These are the governments and organizations which sustained the rebellion,
They’re thus guilty of the blood of thousands
who perished because of the proliferation of the rebellious resistance,
They did not act out of love for humanity,
Their purpose was to disintegrate Nigeria and Africa and impose their will.
Time/event: The Nigerian Civil War, 6 July 1967 - 15 January 1970 / in the voice of General Yakubu Gowon.
February 10, 2025.
Two kings
are all
that's left
of kingdoms
now bereft
Stubborn men
who pretend
life is but a game
Black vs white
pawns on a board
it's not right
will never be
the way to
set men free
Stubborn men
who pretend
life is but a game
Oh what shame
racist thoughts
and battles fought
with eyes closed
you won't ken
the color
of my skin
Stubborn men
who pretend
life is but a game
Kings
without subjects
foolish monarchs
causing pain
what did
they gain
Nothing
Stubborn men
who pretend
life is but a game
No titles
should men wear
of racism to declare
no pawns, rooks,
queens or kings
who only
bring despair
Stubborn men
who pretend
life is but a game
colors fill the world
not black and white
no stalemate drawn
nor checkmate cries
no loser or winner
no reason to despise
Stubborn men
who pretend
Life is NOT a game.
They waited, longing for calls of stalemate
Upon chequered realms, embracing fate
The deep sweat of their shades, merged to convey
And became another non-hue - pale grey
The non-hues were placed before a jury
A visible length of pulsing fury
Reflections of colours, the fonts of light
With no grey areas to defend by sight
Within the waved spectrum, no judge exists
A black and white gown is not in the midst
For the non-hues, palettes absorbed their glare
That evoked sharpened hues within their snare
As all grey matter differs to persist,
non-hues will not get their brush in a twist
Written: November 08, 2023, For John Lawless Contest
Failure is a detour, not a dead-end street. Quote by Zig Ziglar
________________________________________
Along an endless route leading to a dead-end
Indigent, desolate, and deep in introspection
Tires burning, cars swerving, and bouncing starkly
Blindly suffering through a path of misery.
Reporters recount recurrent repulsiveness.
of men who murder, manslaughter, and menace
rage, rape, robbery, and racketeering. Ridiculous!
society sweats amid a status quo scandalous strain.
I'm in circles of despair.
Constant murderers must be naked.
as a result of hitting a stalemate in life
cease of sustenance, I'm alone.
Life on a dead-end street was apathetic.
when darkness casts fearful uncertainties
a dead-end roadway with limited promise
names lacking patterns are brought.
If vamoosed on a dead-end street?
All despairing, detachedly deserted
Follow your feelings and fulfill your soul.
Bow gently if you don't realize the gang status.
You stroll the shattered street.
You'll confront failure with bravery.
In the city center, shadows play
No matter what, the damaged street awaits.
Life's fireballs and street flames ignite constantly.
Obedient slaves to maliciousness feed malice.
After the wheel runs, he gets rocks at the corner.
Burning up, soaring, and yearning for the past;
repeated rashness rasped reasons,
perpetually
My era loses. My era is losing track.
The sign for Destruction Avenue is in sight
the route is one I decline to choose.
The knight in the night fighting off the darkness
A battle to the ultimate submission
Swords aim to cut the opposition deeply
No words spoken, very little transmission
A fierce competition between unafraid warriors
Quitting is not an option for the brave at heart
One on one, the fight seeks no promotion
Darkness proclaimed victory from the very start
Constant banging of weaponry with no signs of stalemate
Dread is on the side of darkness, light resides in the knight
The faith of the world in the balance of two entities
This is what it has come down to, a scurmish, a street fight