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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: poetry

Good Morning!

14 Saturday Nov 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

ecology, GreenNewDeal, index, poem, poetry, story

{Today, I rediscovered this poem which I originally wrote for our holiday letter on December 31, 1999. It seems apropos two decades later.} 

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Good Morning! 

The sunlight sparkles on the snow;

Sparkles on the sea; 

On the fields of wheat; 

On the forests.

Photo by Mike Krejci on Pexels.com

A New Day:

A New Millennium.

Lids flutter open

In waves across the world — 

Minds at last awake 

From their deeply troubled dreams.

Blind ambition opens sleepy lids;

Wipes the sand away from slumber.

Humanity awakes!

At long last, 

The veil is lifted from minds and hearts.

Hands touch hands

The world round.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Everyone laughs as if on cue.

To think that we were ever so blind.

To think that we were ever so silly.

We chuckle and shake our heads.

Our teen-age years of rebellion are over. 

Guns fall silent. 

People see beneath the skin.;

People hear beneath the accent. 

We are glad to have so many brothers,

So many sisters, so many long-lost cousins. 

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

With joy, the people begin the long,

Long journey back to Eden. 

We remake our traveling spaceship jewel.

We replant the surface of the earth. 

Seen from space,

Our whirling little marble greens again.

Our whirling edge of blue clears again.

Seen from our backyards, 

The moon grows clear and huge.

And stars once more appear in night skies. 

Birds fly over Mexico City.

Dictators become gardeners.

Soldiers become poets. 

Plastic turns to wood.

Creation is re-created.

Paradise, always there —

Suddenly appears.

Our multi-millennial blindness is cured.

Our multi-millennial sleep is over.

Good Morning! 

—————————-

Other Poems —- 

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Pandemic

Life is a Dance

T-Rump Swan Song

Comes the Dawn

https://petersironwood.com/2020/08/23/listen-you-can-hear-the-echoes-of-your-actions/

Try the Truth!

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Ailing King of Agitate 

Who are the Speakers for the Dead? 

The Watershed Virus 

Ah! Wilderness!

Essays on America: Poker Chip

Screaming Out a Warning

You Gave me no Fangs

Blood Red Blood

Snowflake

Mother’s Day

Comes the Reign

Choosing the Script

The Jewels of November

Imagine all the People…

The Most Serious Work

The Joy of Juggling

Wristwatch

Maybe it Needs a New Starter

https://petersironwood.com/2020/09/06/my-captains-no-captain/

A Cat’s a Cat and That’s That

Fate and Late on the Interstate

Camelot is in your Heart

Peace

Ambition

The Impossible 

The Bubble People 

Race, Space, Place, Face

Piano

A Suddenly Springing Something

Hauntings across the Time Zones

Comes the Dawn

09 Wednesday Sep 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

America, optimism, poem, poetry, politics, Resistance

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

The vast and varied tree of life 

Is old beyond imagining; 

Has felt the pulse of peace and strife;

Has seen both hawk and dove take wing. 

Comes the dawn. 

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

The storm drapes dark depressing gloom;

The lightening fells a thousand trees.

Yet morning’s sun and roses bloom.

The fallen trunk is home for bees.

Photo by sungmu heo on Pexels.com

Comes the dawn. 

That life is always tearing down 

And building up again is true.

The random stupid scowling clown

Tears down and down; will drown in blue.

Comes the dawn.

Photo by Dana Tentis on Pexels.com

Awaking from our lumbering sleep;

We’ll put aside deluded dreams

That march us all along like sheep.

We’ll look for facts instead of memes.

Comes the dawn.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The truth will reign o’er stupid games

Like “Who’s got Most” or “Bigger Than!”

Or, “Let’s not Solve but Point False Blames.”

“Believe my Lies, Devoted Fan!”

Comes the dawn.

After torrent, after fire

After storm of fear and hate;

After the end of crooked desire;

After evil’s deathly date —

Photo by Kristin Vogt on Pexels.com

Comes the dawn.

Trumpism is a New Religion

Essays on America: Wednesday

You Bet Your Life

Rejecting Adulthood

The Stopping Rule

The Update Problem

Unmasked

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Watershed Virus

Author Page on Amazon

My Captain’s No Captain

06 Sunday Sep 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

America, captain, leadership, pandemic, poetry, Resistance, USA

Photo by Aneta Foubu00edkovu00e1 on Pexels.com

He steers the listing ship of state

With blinded, bulging eyes

And gaping, rancid lips.

Photo by Trace Hudson on Pexels.com



The more he fails, the more he flails, 

No big surprise he screams and wails; 

With jiggling, wriggling hips. 

Photo by Marc Coenen on Pexels.com

A fool, a lout, who loves to pout.

With every breath he lies;

With every order tries

To kill another thousand souls.

For those are Pappa Putin’s goals.

He’s one of Moscow’s favorite moles.



He kills for rubles? Lack of scruples?

I don’t care. Do you? Or you?

And once the toll quadruples?

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com



We finally call a fraud a fraud

And oust the ruthless prig?

And throw him in the brig?



It’ll make poor Vlad both sad & blue.

But I won’t care? Will you? Or, you?

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

—————————————

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Watershed Virus

Unmasked 

Life is a Dance

Try the Truth

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

The Ailing King of Agitate

Author Page on Amazon

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS on Pexels.com

Try the Truth!

20 Thursday Aug 2020

Posted by petersironwood in Uncategorized

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

America, deception, Democracy, Dictatorship, fascism, lies, pandemic, poem, poetry, truth, USA

“Try the truth! Try the truth!

Forsooth, forsooth

I clearly say and loudly state:

All those lies? Let them abate.

Try the truth and you may find

The truth is good for heart and mind!”

“Go away you pesky fools!

Your real news hurts my orange head!

You count each death as really dead!

I like to fudge a bit instead.

Lies and cruelty are my tools!

I mix folks up with bogus rules.”

Photo by Lisa Fotios on Pexels.com

“Would you try the truth today?

Would you taste the truth this day?

Tell the truth — just this once.

Try it Trump and you may see

Lies are for the cowardly.

Lies are for the little runts.

Heroes take the truthful way.”

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

“I do not like the truth at all!

I would not tell it at a ball!

I would not tell it on a call!

I would not tell it to a doll!

I do not like the truth at all!

It makes my teeny hands get itchy.

It makes my suck-lips go all twitchy.

I do not like the truth at all!”

“But try it once and you’ll discover

The truth means there’s no Cover-

Up and Down and Left and Right;

Let all reveal in shining Light!

You’ll be part of something great!

None need more exaggerate.”

“I do so hate the truth at dawn.

I do so hate the truth at dusk.

I hoard the corn and tout the husk.

I flash my flab as though it’s brawn.

I tell them all I’m smart as a whip.

And fly on a magic crystal sailing ship.”

“Yet, if you’d try the truth you might well see

That truth, my friend, would set you free!

Sharing truth allows humanity

To cure disease and mount the moon!

Without the truth, no-one learns.

Without the truth, everything burns.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“I hate the truth since I was born!

Give others husk; I’ll gorge on corn!

Give others poo while I watch porn!

Steal their wealth and kids with lies!

Rape the kids! A sweet surprise!

I believe Putin; not our own spies!”

“Try the truth! For just one hour.

You’ll find it’ll cure your cowardly cower.

You’ll find that you can learn from errors;

Improve; get better; leave more for your heirs.”

“More? You’re nuts! That wouldn’t be wise!

My wealth is based entirely on lies!

I’ve never worked! Not a day in my life.

Just ask my wife or my wife or my wife.”



“Well Mr. Trump, it you won’t try the true,

You’ll be out of a job; even Pu-

Tin can’t rig the entire election.

Lies will spoil your climb to power.

Lies will ruin that garish Trump Tower

And even the teeniest shroom of erection.”

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

Trumpism is a new religion.

The Truth Train.

The Pandemic Anti-Academic.

The Watershed Virus

Life is a Dance

Roar, Ocean, Roar!

17 Monday Aug 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 119 Comments

Tags

America, autocracy, COVID19, Democracy, ecology, fascism, pandemic, poem, poetry, Resistance, TheGreenNewDeal, truth, verse

 

snow covered mountain under blue sky

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

 

You think you are a stone. 

I say, we are a mountain. 

You think you are a thread. 

I say, we are a tapestry. 

You think you are a drop. 

I say, we are an ocean. 

 

big waves under cloudy sky

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS on Pexels.com

 

We are a mighty mountain 

A million men and women wise

Surprise! Surmise

What we can do —

You and you and me and you!

 

snow capped mountain

Photo by Life of Wu on Pexels.com

 

We are a tapestry: 

Rainbow rayed with light arrayed;

A pattern that will still unfold

Reveal our true color: bold

Share inventions not yet played. 

 

2D3064B5-D03E-4030-A3C0-607CAD849A52

 

We are an ocean 

A wave, a tide, a tidal wave

A thousand miles wide,

If we can summon brave 

Feel our brotherhood; eschew false pride.  

 

IMG_3794

 

Believe not those whose only play is hate and fear;

Empty promises that hide behind a hidden tier; 

Russian dolls and chopping halls, 

Down and drown in putrid falls,

Flimsy flash and dazzle — naught inside. 

 

D2560F07-0D3D-4CAC-A440-AD4D8E9BE79B_1_105_c

 

Voices of the damned divide and hide

The nature of the power of the people all in unity.

Czars seek division; cheat with false impunity. 

Have no love; offer no warm hand;

An iron glove; a loud brass band. 

 

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

You think you are a stone. 

I say, we are a mountain. 

You think you are a thread. 

I say, we are a tapestry. 

You think you are a drop. 

I say, we are an ocean. 

 

IMG_3071

 

—————————————————-

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Watershed Virus

Life is a Dance

The Declaration of Interdependence

Author Page on Amazon

Index of “best practices” in teamwork and collaboration

Comes the Reign

Trump Truth Treason

The Ailing King of Agitate

 

The Ailing King of Agitate

05 Wednesday Aug 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 80 Comments

Tags

ANTIFA, COVID19, Democracy, fascism, life, pandemic, poem, poetry, politics, Putin, traitor, treachery, treason, truth

IMG_1442

 

A lonely lackey claims a throne:

A peasant traitor to the bone;

A peasant who’s impressed with gold;

A coward who pretends he’s bold. 

E056DBCD-67B8-415B-9ECF-A7DE15F7164F_1_105_c

 

The teeniest hands in all the lands;

The teeniest glands among the bands. 

The frailest ego ever found.

The smallest heart to ever pound.

 

male bugs illness disease

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

A shroom: Ka-boom! An ort of sorts.

The base proclaim his magic warts.

Eschews a fight that’s not a fix. 

The courts are clogged with crappy tricks.

 

woman with face paint with pumpkin

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

 

Now watch him crumble; watch him fold;

He’s frail and his tricks are old.

He’s flat and rancid as a toad

He’s stupidly squashed upon the road.

 

sign slippery wet caution

Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

 

He cannot think from A to B; 

Betrays his country easily.

Now Weenie’s caught; he can’t be taught.

He does not do coherent thought. 

 

4F969AEC-A579-4A8B-9B35-F773A44B3E8B

 

He’s too inept to fairly race.

Instead he hides behind his face,

A mango face with wobbly head

He whimpers; cries of “foul!” Instead.

 

baby child close up crying

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

It’s he himself who’s truly rank

A Fraud as big as Deutsche Bank.

He sucks the wealth of everyone.

But now at last his time is done.

 

2ED5B35A-54F8-43CB-8534-46D31A07049D_1_105_c

 

He’s needless slain a host of lives

To compensate, he feints and dives.

He rants and raves; corrupts; depraves.

He likes to rape the younger slaves.

 

woman in black tank top blindfolded

Photo by Thuanny Gantuss on Pexels.com

 

His daddy never showed him love;

Kowtows to every Putin shove.

He felt a quiver and a thrill.

When Putin ordered him to kill. 

 

flight sky sunset men

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

But soon the people will arise

Vote out the Vichy Putinate!

The People all with open eyes

Will oust the King of Agitate.

 

usa flag waving on white metal pole

Photo by Element5 Digital on Pexels.com

 


 

The Truth Train

The Pandemic Anti-Academic

The Watershed Virus

Trumpism is a New Religion

Essays on America: Wednesday

Winning by Cheating is Losing

Unmasked

Index of Patterns — Best Practices in Collaboration

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

(A myth about what happens when insatiable greed is combined with lying).

Myths of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

(A series of tales that features ethical, empathic, & effective leadership in times of crisis and uncertainty. Our tale begins as the leader of the Veritas seeks an eventual successor so she devises a series of seven trials that mainly test empathy.)

 

 

Trump Truth Treason

27 Monday Jul 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

coronavirus, COVID19, lies, pandemic, poem, poetry, Putin, treason, truth, verse

E808CBB1-00E5-4E7A-B871-4DD07E410F51“Try the truth! Try the truth!
Forsooth, forsooth
I clearly say and loudly state:
All those lies — just let them abate.
Try the truth and you might find,
The truth is good for heart and mind!”

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

“Go away you pesky fools,
Your real news hurts my orange head!
You count each death as really dead!
I like to fudge a bit instead!
Lies and cruelty are my tools!
I mix them up with bogus rules.” 

0542E9DA-3F34-462E-BA0D-5EA4FAD2AEF0

“Would you try the truth today?
Would you taste the truth this day?
Tell the truth — just this once.
Try it Trump and you may see
Lies are for the cowardly.
Lies are for the little runts.
Heroes take the truthful way.”

male bugs illness disease

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

“I do not like the truth at all!
I would not tell it at a ball!
I would not tell it on a call!
I would not tell it to a doll!
I do not like the truth at all!
It makes my teeny hands go itchy.
It makes my suck-lips go all twitchy.
I do not like the truth at all!”

4770779D-0898-482C-B861-83F8498070A4_1_105_c

“But try it once and you’ll discover
The truth means there’s no Cover-
Up and Down and Left and Right,
Let it all come out in shining Light!
You’ll be part of something great!
No need more to exaggerate.”

680174EA-5910-4F9B-8C75-C15B3136FB06_1_105_c

“I do so hate the truth at dawn.
I do so hate the truth at dusk.
I hoard the corn and tout the husk.
I flash my flab as though it’s brawn.
I tell them all I’m as smart as a whip.
And fly on a magic crystal sailing ship.”

snow capped mountain

Photo by Life of Wu on Pexels.com



“Yet, if you’d try the truth you might well see
That truth, my friend, would set you free!
Sharing truth allows humanity
To cure disease and mount the moon!
Without the truth, no-one learns.
Without the truth, everything burns.”

toddler with red adidas sweat shirt

Photo by mohamed Abdelgaffar on Pexels.com



“I hate the truth since I was born!
Give others husk; I’ll gorge on corn!
Give others poo while I watch porn!
Steal their wealth and kids with lies!
Rape the kids! A sweet surprise!
I believe Putin; not our own spies.”

6ED86DEA-F6EC-4482-827F-8275A931F7F0

“Try the truth! For just for one hour.
You’ll find it’ll cure your cowardly cower.
You’ll find that you can learn from errors;
Improve; get better; leave more for your heirs.”

462C8C26-5000-4E05-8687-CF39C8A0D3CA_1_201_a

“More? You’re nuts! That wouldn’t be wise!
My wealth is based entirely on lies!
I’ve never worked! No a day in my life.
Just ask my wife or my wife or my wife.”

IMG_3071

“Well Mr. Trump, if you won’t try the true,
You’ll be out of a job; even Pu-
Tin can’t rig the entire election.
Lies will spoil your climb to power!
Lies will ruin not only the garish Trump Tower,
But even the teeniest shroom of erection.”

2E9EBFDF-8366-41E3-B9D1-47136A7D029B

 ———————————

The Truth Train

Trumpism is a New Religion

The Pandemic Anti-Academic 

Happy Talk Lies

A Lot is Not a Little

It’s Just Tommy Being Tommy

Myths of the Veritas: The Orange Man

A Profound and Utter Failure

Essays on America: The Game

How did I get Here? 


 

The Watershed Virus

20 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, COVID-19, family, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 40 Comments

Tags

America, cooperation, diversity, life, love, poem, poetry, teamwork, truth, USA

view of city street

Photo by IKRAM shaari on Pexels.com

The virus splits us

How many tears are left?

One from another. Every day bereft.

Divides us. Stable genius.

One from another. Teeny tiny 

They may call it: Pity party for the party

“Social Distancing” Of the absurd & no true word

But we already — We’ve been flipped; chipped

Distanced ourselves from others.

In the evil oil dipped — baptized anew.

gray industrial machine during golden hour

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

We divided the world into countries,

How do we distribute goods?

Countries into regions,

Who deserves another raise? 

Regions into cities,

Those who own the town? 

Cities into neighborhoods.

Whom to blame & whom, to praise? 

We speak different languages.

We all meet & greet; hate defeat.

We wear different clothes.

We all have garb for different moods.

We eat different foods.

We eat & dance & move our feet.

We hear different stories.

So we believe differently.

tombstone on cemetery during daytime

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

But when we die,

How does that turn out?

As it turns out,

The same for everyone?

We are all dead when we die.

When did we start to doubt?

Not breathing kills us all.

As sure as a gun (but not as much fun).

In every land, I see tears.

For the ungrateful dead.

In every land, I feel fears;

For the future tense, unsaid.

Heroes fight to save each other;

Thank you, sister; Thank you, brother. 

Heroes work to keep it together.

Sibling by another mother.

health workers wearing face mask

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

Worldwide we face a hidden killer

It hides beneath falsehood & lies

And nearly all of us are trying

Greedy people make us fear.

To find a way to keep us all from dying.

Greedy people in a gentle guise —

Our days grow quieter and stiller.

Tell us only to like those just like us dear. 

Bravery is everywhere; in every land

Even if not-leader leads the band.

We zoom a virtual meeting,

Even if he cowers from his role. 

We play a virtual band

Even as his cruelty is his only lonely goal.  

We wave a heartfelt greeting.

He snivels, swivels in this land. 

And in this time of utmost need,

The time of hating passes and we

A very few show outsized greed

Can see once more our unity.

sky earth galaxy universe

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

They lie and cheat and steal each dime;

We know again we will one. 

Use the crisis to spread their slime.

All we’ve been since we’ve begun.

Yet there is nothing worth that snort of power

They get from what could have been their finest hour; 

Instead, letting every opportunity turn sick and sour;

They sneak & hide and lie and glower and cower. 

 

DCA8FC9A-F229-4538-9EA2-D9E13D4796EB_1_105_c

Heel spurs would never ever brave a bullet. 

Not even a grown chicken; he’s just a pullet.

Afraid to fire people face to face. 

Afraid to run a fair, untainted race.

At last, the vast majority will see their worth

We all will know the very roundness of this earth.

We all at last will laugh at tyranny’s yoke,

And shrug it off like a tired orange joke. 

D27C46AA-C37E-4AB7-8FE8-8DA937E31A91

We’ll work together you and me and all of all 

We’ll mend life’s spinning precious ball.

We’ll only let true leaders head our bands.

We’ll only let the truthful lead our lands. 

Seven billion souls will not be slaves, 

However loud the loveless liar raves.

Life is for the living and we will find

Ways to grow our vast collective mind.

Heart to heart, we’ll dance new ways

To show our love and show our care. 

Heart to heart, we’ll green our days;

We’ll build a world for all to share.

A world where fair is fair is fair.

Liars lie in muck and mire;

If you care, put out the fire.

Raise your voice in loving song.

Love, you see, is strongest strong,

Will conquer all this sickly wrong;

You and I can get along

Just fine without a tyrant king.

It’s love — just love — of which we sing.

7551D277-6606-4C1B-9E06-5E4E44C81A64

 


Trumpism is a New Religion

Essays on America: Labelism

Use Diversity as Resource

Myth of the Veritas: The First Ring of Empathy

Cancer Always Loses in the End

Math Class: Who are you?

Parametric Recipes and American Democracy.

Index of Pattern Language for Cooperation

Author Page on Amazon

  

   

 

Answers to Your Many Questions

15 Monday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, family, poetry, politics, Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Democracy, equality, poem, poetry, truth

Answers to Your Many Questions

The light was green?
The light was red?
The road was dry?
The road was wet?

C4AE5680-36D4-44A1-84F8-5ACCDC6B3CEF

Isa black?
Isa white?
Isa yellow?
Isa red?

Hasa lotta money?
Hasa lotta nothing?
Hasa lotta plastic?

pile of gold round coins

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Isa patient.
Isa headtrauma?
Isa kidney?
Isa quad?

Hasa lotta care?
Hasa lotta not?
Hasa lotta hair?

Hasa correct diagnosis?
Hasa good prognosis?
Hasa signed release?
Will the screaming ever cease?

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Wasa person?
Wasa wreck?
Severed spine?
Broken neck?

The room was white?
The room was green?
The uniforms were white?
The uniforms were green?
The forms were black and white.
And read all over?

health workers wearing face mask

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

The glass was sharp.
The road was hard.
The graph was flat.
The spark was gone.

What else mattered?

A life was shattered.

 

 

burial cemetery countryside cross

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com———


Blood Red Blood 

Mirror, Mirror

Author page on Amazon

Ah Wilderness!

13 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by petersironwood in America, apocalypse, health, poetry, politics, psychology, Uncategorized

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

ecology, environment, Feedback, GreenNewDeal, life, poem, poetry, truth, wilderness

(I first published an earlier draft of Ah Wilderness in Peng Poets e-zine, summer 1997. I’m nearly finished with the highly recommended book, The Overstory, and so I decided to take another look at the poem and then extended it with the dissolution of form of the poem meant to mirror the dissolution of our society moving at last into prose but then, hopeful with the seed of form returning. I realize poetry is not everyone’s cup of tea. One reason I like it is that its dancing always on that same razor edge where life itself does its dance: chaos and regularity; change and stability).

scenic view of lake in forest

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Ah, Wilderness!

The words may well connote a false un-blurring
A fear, a chill — not from frozen stone alone
Or lake wind’s sweep; but from the urgent stirring
Of some soul still hiding restless in our bone.

Curse not the thorns of tasty blackish berry;
They keep fruit safe from claws less clever.
Curse not how swift the prey, how very wary;
They shaped our brain; & helped us know forever.

Curse not the winter’s churlish wind unkind
Or burning hot dry summer’s cinnamon sun.
They invented beautiful raiment through our mind
And taught us numbers soaring far beyond one.

4770779D-0898-482C-B861-83F8498070A4_1_105_c

Curse not the change of season; or the suddenly sliding slope –
Unpredictable now and in the future as ever always
They make us search for patterns far beyond our scope of grope.
Ah Wilderness!

You are me as seen in Darwin’s mirror of minutes and hours,

And days of ways taken and untaken & lead us here at last.

We strive to take it all and make it all, all ours, all ours!

Churning every fragrant flower and pine to dust,

We must! We lust! We must! We lust!
We don’t have time for this and that.

We want everything now and that’s that!

air air pollution climate change dawn

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

And if in time all wilderness is bleak and dead,

Our bodies too shall wither and die and by and by

Our souls shall be but number: grey, unloved, unfed.

Asphalt, plastic, concrete & glass. None will die

Because in our endless war on nature, we are all “Undead.”

The Zombieland: machines gone mad; machines gone bad.

Swaths of humanity wishing to meld to macabre, merciless machinery!

abstract barbed wire black white black and white

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Life is what works! Life is constant change and innovation. But it’s been working for over four billion years! Look around you! It not only works! It’s marvelous! Machines don’t smell like that. Machines don’t look so beautiful as that. Machines don’t sound as melodious. Machines may be used to magnify malicious malignities if we let them.

Life is cooperative and interconnected and everywhere at once dancing on a razor’s edge between chaos and regularity. Machines are built to be efficient and effective and just tolerably presentable enough to be purchased — purchased by people who typically do not have to deal with the machine day in and day out. What do they care whether the machine is loud or smells bad or ruins your hands or explodes every so often or pollutes whole towns or scares away all the birds or kills every fish in the stream and every frog and that more trees will have to be cut down to feed it and more land raped to oil it?

Life is the invention of Love yet Love requires Life. (Maybe that’s why Love created Life; so it would have a way to express itself). Machines can be built to help save lives. Other machines are designed to kill lives. A machine that’s designed to kill lives never decides, “You know what? I never signed up to shoot peaceful protestors. That sucks and it’s anti-American. I quit.” At best, machines are amoral.

What to think of people who want to destroy life and replace it with a strict unmoving hierarchy with a life-hating king at the top? Don’t they see that they would not truly be alive in such an arrangement? They would not “decide” or “dream” or “change” or “love” or anything else without the permission of someone or some rule who knows nothing about how they really feel. And doesn’t care. Do you?

woman raising her hands

Photo by Marlon Schmeiski on Pexels.com

To destroy all wilderness means humanity would be signing its own death warrant.

The attempt to replace life, which we know works, with machine will eventually fail and fall and take damn near all of humanity with it over that cliff of ever-lasting greed.

Ah, Wilderness.

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Ah, Wilderness.

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Introduction to a Pattern Language of best practices in Teamwork & Collaboration

Index to Pattern Language for Teamwork & Collaboration.

The Myths of the Veritas: The Forgotten Field

The Impossible

 

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