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Momma Took the Paper

Momma took the paper.
She read it every day,
And as she finished sections,
She passed them on my way.
For two bits and a little time,
The world became more clear,
(On Sunday it cost a dollar,
Because so much was there).
The paper came with sections,
So that all could clearly track,
The news, the sports, and classifieds,
Separating opinion from fact.
Section A was local features,
And section B straight world news,
Section O was all opinions,
Where people sang their blues.
The funnies and the classifieds,
Everyone knew were jokes,
That car was not at all “like new”,
The fancy personals- just regular folks.

Now the papers are slowly dying,
No one reads them like before.
And the people don’t know
Anything about anywhere anymore.
What used to be a quarter,
Now costs four or five,
Or else it’s moved behind a paywall,
To keep the press alive.
And instead of clearly marked sections,
Where people can evaluate and choose,
It’s now all fiery loaded language,
Infotainment dismissed as “Fake News”.
In the void of multi-media,
Talking heads just fight and fuss,
But the absence of real reporting,
Means the joke is on us.

There is no good solution,
Unless we the people act,
Dismiss celebrity talking heads,
And demand instead pure fact.
Though editorial and opinion,
Do indeed have a place,
It should not be amongst pure news,
As facts get lost in space.
The nation and its people,
Would be better in every way,
If we all took time and place and paper,
And read it every day,
And as we finished sections,
Passed them our children’s way.

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Philosophy More than Poetry

Gate to Seoul
This is not a poem to glorify war
Though it may seem that way
To those who do not know
What we know
(Oh, what we know!)

This is not a poem to praise America
Though it celebrates an idea
That once was
And can be again
(Liberty Enlightening the World!)

This is not a poem to castigate anyone
Though it may burn
And stick in the craw
Of many who read it
(Ruminant fiber for our system!)

This is a poem about the lethargy of excess
And the revolution it spawns
In the belly of the hungry
Because inequality breeds contempt
(Desperate people doing desperate things!)

This is a poem asking people to wake up
And understand what is happening
As binary politics and policies
Rip us apart as a people
(Divided electorates are divided and conquered)

This is a notice that we are in a psychological war
For the soul of what it means
To be a People, United
Americans
(The City on a Hill!)

We the people have been sold
As an offering
Fattened Cattle
On the altar of prosperity
(Lambs to the slaughter!)

In our national capital and statehouses
They gerrymander away
Our Freedom, our Voice, our Future
For profit and power
(Litigious society in chains!)

On the newsroom floor they package infotainment
Having nothing to do with keeping the people informed
Better to keep them enflamed
So that money keeps pouring in
(Ignorance makes the chains feel lighter!)

On their “smart phones”, the people play games
Content in complete ignorance
Watching gladiators in the arena
As Rome burns around them
(The Republic becomes an Empire)

Barbarians at the gate, look on in approval
As the empire consumes itself
Rome’s “Crisis of the Third Century”
Alive and well today
(Where is Marcus Aurelius, our philosopher? Vegetius our reformer?)

Army marching victoriously to battle to battle
Winning with great violence
Unchallenged at sea or in air
Yet losing war after war
(Strategy that can’t survive an election cycle is no strategy at all!)

Trapped by Thucidydes against all comers
Active foreign policy everywhere
Stretched beyond our means
Undermined by friend and foe
(The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must!)

And so it comes full circle back to We the People,
Who revel in our ignorance
And allow our politicians to poison us with bad policy
Putrid meat flavored to tastes like honey
(Buying up our favor with scraps of cake)

Unless we awaken from our slumber
And take back our birthright
First will come the Revolution
Then the Thermidor
(Our vanity a bonfire, Liberty Enlightening the World)

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The Meaning of Words

The SDF who fought ISIL,
Are now called terrorists.
State news said “neutralized”
When 300 Kurds massacred.

A bloody military invasion
Is “establishing a safe zone.”
14 Kurdish cities- “liberated”-
Are now under foreign rule.

Turkey’s nemesis in Pakistan
Offers Erdogan his “full support.”
NATO urges Turkish “restraint”
The Arab League urges the UN.

The EU cries refugee “blackmail,”
But 6B euros to keep them out.
DoS hasn’t seen “significant”
Examples of ethnic cleansing.

Doctors without borders, fled.
100,000 civilians “displaced”
To join the already 700,000
Requiring food aid in N. Syria.

Operation Peace Spring
Is a bottomless well of war.
Because there is no meaning
Left in the words of men.

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Realpolitik

Gate to Seoul

Hungary in ‘56,
Czechoslovakia in ’68!
Soon another region
Will re-live this fate.
Through the people protest for freedom,
Against the power of despotism,
And show the world the horror,
Of totalitarianism,
When violence comes- they are on their own,
No help forthcoming beyond a few words of care.
The cost of intervention deemed,
Too costly for us to bear.
Tomorrow when the tanks roll in,
The peoples’ vulnerability made clear,
The State will crush the people,
Suppressing ideas they hold dear.
In doing so the State itself,
Will seal its long-term doom,
For liberty rises from the ashes,
Like the phases of the moon.
People who yearn for freedom,
Cannot perpetually be denied.
History is filled with the grave-markers,
Of every petty tyrant who has tried.
But in the valley of the shadow,
Before each person turns to dust,
The strong do what they will,
The weak will suffer what they must.

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Virtue in War

Gate to Seoul

Innocence is the first casualty of war,
Truth itself flees long before.
The virtues largely all the same,
Withering away in the pyre’s flame.

Far-seeing Prudence sunders and frays,
Under the chaos of humanity’s violent phase.
Temperance becomes gluttony all the more,
Thinking victory comes through blood and gore.
Fortitude last longest but will eventually break,
As each person hits the limit of what they can take.
At start Justice is pursued and sometimes in the end found,
The in-between will justify starting the next round.
Blood and rage drive Purity away,
While Charity waits for a better day.
For a while Diligence is dutifully true,
But as the pressure builds, it erodes too.
Patience wears thin, then shatters apart,
As rage drives Kindness out of human hearts.
Humility cloaked in reverent modesty,
Withers as survival empowers “the me”.

Mankind may clash for honor or greed,
Fear itself, or religious creed.
In the rush to action much is lost,
Few politicians project the cost.
People are seldom surprised when wars begin,
Yet always shocked at what is gone in the end.