NOBEL PEACE PRIZE DAY
NOT TRUMP, BUT CARNEY THEY SAY
TRUMP IS BLOWN AWAY
The Ace Trumps a King
You have no cards left to play
No peace prize for you
Poet's Note
Dr. Abdus Salam (1926-1996) was born in Jhang, Pakistan. He became the *first Pakistani and first Muslim to win the Nobel Prize in Science* in 1979. With hope and resilience, he showed the world that greatness can rise from humble beginnings.
Bite Size Contest no 151
Theme*: Hope & Resilience
Chalkboard Dream
Abdus Salam dreamed on a chalkboard
Dust and cracked shoes reached the sky
Storms of doubt, no hand to guide
Still he earned Nobel pride
For Pakistan, for Muslim light
Hope and resilience never die
-
I guess she grew the largest cucumber we’ve ever seen in this state.
Hurry up and dress, we do not want to be one second late
My granddaughter has a growing thumb that goes beyond green
the super-duper cucumber she grew was a monster machine!
The mayor came out, and the prissy governor was there
I did not get near her, it simply was not quite fair
I am her grandma I yelled to the news station
Thinking I might be interviewed for the occasion
No one cared about me, an old woman, invisible now
They were all over my granddaughter who took a bow
The cucumber was grinning wide, somewhat becoming
I guess he did not know that being pickled would soon be forthcoming
Another poem without a prize
The lines don’t rhyme, don’t satisfy
Poems with horizons and blazing clouds
Winners write with floating shrouds
These rhyming predicts take me back
To kinder days on railroad tracks
You see, you see, I can rhyme, too
My words can swirl an awful brew
But me, I’d rather not construe
Rhymes for poems to ballyhoo
At last, all ye, I do respect
Your words in glory, your idiolect
I am a pacifist
not a prize fighter
I am a healer
not a hit man
I am a mother
not a mobster
I am a grandmother
not a gangster
I am a kite-flyer
not a killer
But I watch these others on TV
The trap of
self-surveillance
Our phones
and I-pads hide
They watch our
every movement
And hear
what we most prize
They pander
with their programs
Seducing
with their apps
Recording
undermining
Our futures
— to remap
(Dreamsleep: March, 2026)
The ice faerie was diligently carving an intricate reindeer sculpture
Snowballs, sleighbells and faerie balls stood at attention
It was the familiar blue of the loveliest ices
No one could dispute this might be the grand prize winner
If this antler-laden-masterpiece would freeze in place, without distortion
We would be ready for the judging, glad to receive a purple ribbon
Grand prize, I imagine, I whispered to an icicle who nodded in agreement.
WITH EYES STILL ON THE MARCHING PRIZE
(APROPOS OF AN MLK DAY REFLECTION)
With eyes on the prize,
Let us climb freedom’s mountain:
Topping liberty:-
Be a Drum Major,
Leading liberty’s parade
Up the mountaintop:
Guiding marchers onward to
Freedom, justice, and equality:-
Don’t let anything
Try to deter the journey:
You’re not Sisyphus;
Just keep on climbing:-
God navigating,
Let’s march to reality;
Our dream coming true:-
And nobody can turn us back:
Our faith, drum majoring us:-
Given the Dream’s route,
Let’s move up the mountainside:
Topping injustice:-
Railroading onward,
Has been tracked by ancestors:
God navigating:-
Today’s oppression,
We shall also overcome:
Flushing bigotry:-
Let justice’s waters unclog
Today’s red-pooped injustice:-
Let’s flush it all down!
Including red-stained echoes
From loose bowel-mouths:-
One might think
you're the apple of my eye
make it icing on the cake
or better yet cherry on the pie
but all that stuff is not enough
for there's more at play
which I'll describe in detail now
and believe you me when I say
you're the prize in my cracker
for all you are and all you do
not only that you're the paper hat
give life a snap and you're the riddle too
DONALD GET PEACE PRIZE
YES HE DID FROM FIFA GUYS
DISCUST WE DISGUISE
My two eyes view the prize,
As atoms materialize,
Wise to my emotions,
They perform the chosen perspective.
Respective of my beliefs,
They achieve their directive,
Working with the collective,
Erecting a reality.
Gravity the force,
Keeping us on course,
We share it all with the source.
Intercourse with energy,
Is building the entity,
Created to be felt physically,
Viscerally experiencing what you see.
Learning about eternity,
And infinite possibilities,
Feeling everything intensely,
We start creating memories,
Imprinting them in galaxies,
And parallel realities.
The legacy of a timeline,
Intertwines with the Divine,
Yours mixes with mine.
All eyes shining on the prize,
We're seeing a new life rise,
The surprise on the horizon,
A rising son,
Shining light on another one,
Open your eyes and have some fun,
Because the journey is never done,
This prize is for everyone.
Scarred the fire remembers her face,
seeing the beauty she once was.
In a forgotten time and place,
she was followed by such applause.
A light scratch using painted claws
ripped up her gentle perfection.
Those lines create such superb flaws
that grace this prize of destruction.
Some receivers, see some in claim
To know Peace Nobel’s dubious fame.
Grateful seems Gandhi’s soul
To miss this dodgy dole,
To fate, to spare his pristine name.
_______________________
Happenings | 12.10. 2025 | fame, peace, prize, political
Note: To say, Peace Nobel has lost its reputation is to say the obvious. But off late it has become a laughingstock. Look at the machinations around it-- Trump getting the cake. He has done to it more damage than Kissinger, Obama, and others before him. But if he (the stopper of seven wars!!) gets the prize, it would I think be the last straw on Nobel’s camel. I think the guy should get the Ig Nobel Prize.
Political satire turned obsolete
When Kissinger’s name on Nobel was lit. -- Tom Lehrer
Can someone guess
What if Trump’s name too adds to it?
The maggot is weary of children it eats,
Of women laid down in Rafah's cold streets.
It's tired of salivating on innocent dead,
With no parting words and no tears to be shed.
It dined with the war-lords who broke Palestine's door,
On limbs, and on bullets, and on Hind's final core.
It gorged on a nation, sovereign and free,
And now seeks a prize for its "nobility."
So give the maggot his Nobel Prize,
Who seeks a false peace for his villainous eyes.
A peace made of cluster bombs, blood, and our pain,
On dishonesty's altar, for conquest and gain.
The maggot is sated, his tools are all shown,
In Tel Aviv's fortresses, of steel and of stone.
On aid-seekers' bodies, in Khan Younis's sands,
His peace is enacted by madmen's commands.
Then give him his prize, let the world acquiesce,
And grant his nobility to wickedness.
Let his name be inscribed in the blood of the slain,
For a Nobel bought with terror, and perpetual pain.
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