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~ Finding, formulating and solving life's frustrations.

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Tag Archives: truth

Paradise Lost

18 Wednesday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, nature, poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

life, nature, poem, poetry, truth

Paradise Lost

(First appeared as part of The Poetry Exchange’s Featured Poet, Spring, 1997 under the title: “Deforested”)

Gray day wasted while the whippoorwill
Wishes that the slushy city sewers
Had not replaced the only lonely home he knew.
The groggy foggy unfocussed hurly-burly rushing
Of splashing autos on the gray macadam roadways
That gnarl through the neighborhoods
Is vaguely deja vu.
Silhouetted smokestacks shadowly seen,
Limned in gray on gray-green,
Remind the mind how poor people pass the day after day.
Where no home fire hearth lighted cabin
In the winter woods beckons, beacons, hearkens
Heartily a red sunset glow on white snow
For a day’s work done.

One hardly knows.

Here, where machine clouds of steam unsentiently sip, sap the soul,
You wonder as the rain water wanders,
Then rushes through the gurgling gutters,
What foul trick man played upon his own brave soul,
To have forsaken all the fiery emotion that makes life great
To sit at desks, to stand in lines, to wait.
Where are the country color and
The rich thick loves hidden
Beneath the inventions, interventions, and pretensions of society?

We wander in our own gray-glass cages
In a lurching kind of mock-precision,
Like the nightmare dream of a psychotic technician.
And the only color the commuter encounters
In his travels to and from,
Is the scarlet and the gold of a raccoon
Too stupid to stay off the highways of modern civilization.

————

Pet Sematary (A relevant book by Stephen King which was a partial inspiration for the poem)

Isn’t the extinction of species a “normal” thing? Yes…and no. https://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/blog/2019/05/nature-decline-unprecedented-report/

How many animals are killed by vehicles? https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/roadkill-literally-drives-some-species-to-extinction/

How much “labor” is actually “saved” by our “labor-saving devices”? https://www.reddit.com/r/antiwork/comments/qbgihm/for_95_percent_of_human_history_people_worked_15/

You must remember this.

The Forest

Ah Wilderness

Dance of Billions

Your Cage is Unlocked

Your Cage is Unlocked

12 Thursday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in poetry, psychology

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

courage, life, poem, poetry, truth

Some say: 

“You mustn’t love the shining sun

For rainy days will come again.

That clear blue sky will turn to gray.

Rainbows grow

In arcs to show

That clouds will shadow everyone.”

Some say:

“You mustn’t try to love your cat

Nine lives or not, they cannot last.

Each cat goes, soon or late. 

It’s certain fate

Is obdurate.

Death will win. And that is that.”

They say: 

“You mustn’t love the morning rose.

Glowing in the sunrise rays.

Roses wither, petals fall.

Summer blooms

But winter glooms.

Seasons turn as every blossom shows.”

Some say:

“You mustn’t sprint with all your speed

Feel your heart a-hammering hard;

That shock of feet; that spring of leg.

Joints will fail

Old folks ail

Sprinters all will lose their lead.”

Some say:

“You mustn’t dance to lose your soul.

Instead a more sedately pace should do.

Without a trace of passion shown.

Let no-one see

Your mindless ecstasy. 

Quiet decorum must be your goal.”

They say:

“And when your granite stone is cut

Let that one unbroken line

Connect the dates of come and go. 

None can blame 

Your unlit flame.

Every unfelt passion, in its fashion has a ‘But…’”

But…I say:

“Living life as though you’re dead

As though the fear of death is wise

As though to dance is too much chance

Is silly and absurd!

Relish each and every word. 

Reach as far as you can reach instead.”



I say:

“Breathe the sunshine; taste the dew. 

Stretch your body and your mind. 

Feel and see and smell that rose. 

Love the bubbles till they burst. 

Make each moment its own first. 

Dance you fool, the dance of you!”

I say:

“Dance yourself a riotous reel

Meld with music of Life’s Tree

Lavish love on all you may

Love is at life’s core.

Love is what it’s for!

Hold nothing back. Make life real.”

I say: 

“Make life real by extending your care

To creatures large & small & in between.

To whales & eagles; roots unseen.

Love is what life’s for.

Life is love, at its core. 

Dance for love if only you dare!”

I say:

“Life’s for love so show you care!

Don’t heed words of wishless woe. 

You’re starring in your picture show!

Enjoy & dance on center stage 

Whatever your imagined age.

Being you is exceedingly rare!”

Dance of Billions

Life is a Dance

Take a Glance; Join the Dance

John the Worrier

The Impossible

Piano

Math Class: Who are you?ove

The Fungus Fools the Foolish Forest Tree

07 Saturday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry, politics

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Democracy, poem, poetry, politics, psychology, seduction, truth, USA

The Fungus Fools the Foolish Forest Tree 

Photo by Martin Schneider on Pexels.com

“It is a kind of loyal test.

I need a place to briefly rest. 

Upon your lovely shiny bark 

Just until the sky turns dark.”

The fungus begged the trusting tree.

“And I will keep you oh so free!”

“Thanks so much, you will be glad.

Now, if I fell it would be bad

So I will hold against the breeze.

Don’t you fret. I think I’ll please.”

The fungus promised to the tree:

“And I will keep you oh so free!”

The night was done; the sun was hot.

“Oh, tree, my roots are deeply caught.

It wouldn’t do to rend apart

Our friendship from propitious start.”

The fungus held the hapless tree.

“My bonds will keep you oh so free!” 

Each day, the orange fungus spread.

Upon its sap the fungus fed. 

“Now indeed, our friendship’s fast. 

I feel it’s going to last and last.”


The fungus fingers filled the tree.

“All this sap’s too much for thee!”

The tree felt tired when springtime came. 

Its leaves were few; its flowers lame.

“No matter,” tree, “it’s not so bad. 

“For fungus is the newest fad!”

“Don’t you worry, dearest tree!

I guarantee that you’ll stay free!”

At last the tree lost all its leaves.

The promise though it still believes,

Although it toppled to the ground. 

With such a rotten, hollow sound. 

“I’ve felled another silly tree!

So silly to believe in me!”


Dick-taters

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Donnie’s Last Gift

Absolute is not just a vodka

The Ailing King of Agitate

Where does your loyalty lie?

My Cousin Bobby

After All

Essays on America: The Game

Guernica

They Lost the Word for War

The Crows and Me

Siren Song

Dance of Billions

The Ballad of the Ballot

04 Wednesday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, poetry

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Democracy, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

Photo by Regina Pivetta on Pexels.com

When Crazy and Lazy control your Party

It may be time to govern a bit instead.

It may be time to hire a smarty.

It might be time to get people fed, instead.

It might be time to fix a street or two.

You might address pollution, guns, or schools. 

It might be time to think a solution or two.  

But voters are seen as fools and tools.

And told it’s fine to break the rules. 

And hate everyone odd or oddly bent.

And send all your money which should have paid rent

Instead to the folks who will work for the rich 

You won’t find out till you’re made their kitsch. 

Nothing matters but clicks and likes and being

Dicks and lying lies.

No matter the cost. 

No matter what of value’s  lost. 

When Looney and Tooney are playing for power

Your courage could lead to your finest hour, 

But chances are

Chances are…

Chances

Nothing more. 

It’s always been known that hate could be stoked. 

That its keen incision into the national mind. 

Would soon incur a wound of division.

Our nation seen with deserved derision,

A nation enraged and cruel instead of kind.

Putrid loves it. But the rest of us are truly forked.

 

Time at last is more than past when Rule of Law

Is understood by all to be a gift and not a flaw. 

———————-

RIP, GOP

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Con-Con’s Man Special Friend

Dick-Taters

D4

Essay on America: The Game

Absolute is not just a vodka

Stoned Soup

Three Blind Mice

Donnie’s Last Gift

Where does your loyalty lie?

My Cousin Bobby

Kevin Unclogs the Toilet

03 Tuesday Jan 2023

Posted by petersironwood in America, politics

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

fiction, House, parody, politics, satire, story, truth, USA

A Story of Pure Fiction

The manager of the hotel (or, “Stable Mighty Emperor Genius Maganificent Adiposity*” as he prefers to be called) called Kevin on his private, “Master Only Line.”

“Kevin? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I … “

“Get down here. Now! I have a pipe I need you to unclog!”

“Are you serious? I’m in the fight of my political life here! And, anyway, I don’t know plumbing.” 

“Get down here. Or, you’ll never get my endorsement again. Come clean my pipes and I’ll make sure you get the position you deserve.” 

“I don’t know how to clean pipes!” 

“Get down here. I’ll show you everything you need to know.” 

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

————-

A few hours later, at taxpayer’s expense, Kevin arrived and was ushered into SMEGMA’s anteroom to wait. After a few hours without any communication, a scantily clad model ushered Kevin into SMEGMA’s office which stank of rotting, overcooked Brussel sprouts, slug slime, and limburger cheese gone bad. 

Kevin began extending his hand, but the odor nearly knocked him down. He jerked his hand back reflexively. He reeled from the Putrid smell and steadied himself by putting his hand on a nearby table. Unfortunately, it rested ever so briefly on a plate of cold catsup-covered French fries. The hand that was supposed to steady him instead slid violently off the table causing him to twist as he fell through the air and smacked hard into the rug. The thought flashed through his mind: “Thank God he’s got really large piles.” (Unlike his iPhone, Kevin’s brain had no autocorrect.)

One of the hard metal legs of an ergonomic chair nearly hit his skull. Kevin cried out in fear, pain, and outrage. The fall and twist and pain combined to disorient Kevin. The laugh disoriented him even more. “Whose (Unlike his iPhone, Kevin’s brain had no autocorrect.)

 laughing? Why? I nearly broke my arm — and my head. And what is that smell?” 

“That was great, Kevy. Do it again!”

“Do what again? Are you serious? I damn near killed myself!”

“So what? It gave me pleasure. Well, never mind. The moment is at lapsed.” (This brain was missing more than a spell-check app!). 

Photo by BROTE studio on Pexels.com

“Look, Master, I have a fight to get back to. Can you just tell me where the pipes are you need cleaned. And, what is that smell?!”

“Just like everyone else who’se everyone held office held, I may have had people flush classified documents down the toilet. It’s the most beautiful golden toilet in the world, by the way, the universe, the galaxy, even the whole solar system!” 

“Fine. Where are your tools?” 

“Tools? Don’t you know? All you fools are my tools! You’re cleaning my pipes with your body. Some send me their rent money. Oh, it does make me laugh. Now, get in there and clean. And, I’ll just might make sure your Talker of the House.”

“It’s actually called…never mind. You want me to dive into the toilet in order to clean it? I mean, couldn’t I drown?” 

“It doesn’t matter dear, so long as I am satisfied.” 

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

——————

Needless to say, (or is it needless?) Kevin never got what he was promised, no matter how clean he got the toilets.  

Essays on America: The Game

Essays on America: Dick-Taters

Absolute is not just a vodka

Poker Chips

Siren Song 

Their Dead Shark Eyes

After all

Plans for US; some, GRUsome

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Con-Con Man’s Special Friend

D4: Dictator’s Degenerative Delusional Disease

07 Wednesday Dec 2022

Posted by petersironwood in America

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Democracy, essay, politics, truth, USA

“Stop, Hey, what’s that sound?”

— Buffalo Springfield 

Imagine someone being so rich and powerful and well-connected that they can summon world experts for advice on just about anything. 


Imagine this someone is also motivated enough and smart enough that they beat out all sorts of rivals to get to the position they’re in — not purely by inheritance — but partly or even mainly by merit and luck. 


And, then, given those overwhelming advantages, they make stupid decisions anyway.

For a recent example, go no further than Putin’s war on Ukraine. Or T-Rump’s recent call to subvert the US Constitution.

 What’s going on? Chances are, both are suffering from D4 (Dictator’s Degenerative Delusional Disease). 

What is it?

D4 is a very common affliction among dictators who are heads of state. But it’s not limited to those few. It can occur in the bully of the family, a narcissistic team leader, or a business executive. Anyone who has a degree of unchecked power is subject to contracting the disease.

Where does the name come from?

“Dictator’s” because it mainly strikes those with a degree of unchecked power. 

“Degenerative” because, left to its own course, the disease will get worse and worse over time.  

“Delusional” because, one of the most destructive systems of the disease is the dictator’s beliefs (and eventually even perceptions) are not moored to reality. 

“Disease” because it is bad for the physical, mental, and spiritual health of the dictator, those around him, and the society as a whole. 

 



Why is it bad? 

For those around the dictator, the disease is bad because people close to the dictator are typically demeaned, demoted, fired, or, in the case of Putin, killed. 

For the society as a whole, D4 is bad because intelligent actions rely on finding and communicating the truth. When the dictator instead subverts the truth and insists on people pretending lies are true so that the dictator “looks good”, innovation suffers; the economy suffers; and since energy goes to fighting imaginary enemies, real dangers receive fewer resources. Hitler’s dictatorial insanity caused 6 million Jews to be intentionally killed, but he also caused the death of 4.2 million non-Jewish Germans including soldiers and civilians. Stalin was responsible for the deaths of over 10 million Russians though how many more is in some dispute. Somewhere between 40 and 80 million Chinese died under Mao.  

Dictatorship and the attendant D4 is even bad for the dictator. They might enjoy their ill-gotten gold or possibly enjoy the cruelty they are able to wreak. Ultimately, however, they miss out on the best parts of life. As they ignore the voices of reason around them, they become more and more disconnected from reality. Ultimately, even if their brains don’t fall prey to hardware destruction, they do fall prey to data degradation. They insist on an ever-more illusory view and ignore or destroy those who try to bring them back to reality. 

How can we prevent Dictator’s Degenerative Disease? 

Although, there are no panaceas, there are several known ways to help prevent D4.

Anonymous FB can be provided to the dictator or dictatorial boss. This can help them stay tethered to reality. However, the natural tendency of the dictator, when they get news they don’t like is to insist on finding the identity of the person who gave the honest, but unwanted feedback. Ex-President Trump, for instance, not only fired the whistleblower Alexander Vindman, but also Alexander’s brother. 

The ruled need options. One of the major goals of any would-be dictator is to get rid of free and fair elections. Once they get in power and begin using the government to line their own pockets, people in a democracy would simply vote them out. So, instead, they either hold no elections or hold “show” elections. Free and fair elections are one of the best mechanisms for keeping rulers accountable.  

The culture of a society can also help. If someone in a major political party in America showed obvious signs of wanting to become a dictator disconnected from reality and began lying about results of their programs, soon the other powers in the political party would gently push that person aside. Until recently. 

Day in Court. Another check on D4 is to have an independent judiciary that does not feel “beholden” to the dictator. Once judges decide to give “special treatment” to a would-be dictator, D4 becomes much more rampant. 

Checks and Balances The founders of America (and other democracies) realized that some people are quite susceptible to D4 and therefore arranged a system of Checks and Balances. This method only works if the the other parts of the government perform their duty. Everyone in the judiciary and the legislature swears to uphold and defend the Constitution. But if people take this oath and then thumb their noses at that oath by not, say, convicting an obvious breach of faith on the part of the would-be dictator, then the function of Checks and Balances stops working. 

The Rule of Law requires that no-one is above the Rule of Law. If even one person, such as a dictator or would-be dictator is treated as being above the Rule of Law, then, in effect, the Rule of Law means nothing. The dictator can essentially “overrule” any court by means legal or illegal. 

Turnabout is Fair Play. Conceivably, a lottery system could be used to choose some of the people in government. Or, people could find themselves in any position in the society.  

Independent Judiciary. Judges could not be “sponsored” by the same wealthy people who have an outsized influenced on electing officials in the legislative and executive branches. 

Conclusion:

To support a dictator means nothing more or less than putting yourself in chains and then handing the keys to the dictator along with a lash in return for a promise that they’ll be good to you.

——————

Absolute is not just a vodka

Poker Chips

Dick-Taters

The Ailing King of Agitate

A Lot is not a Little

Guernica

Essays on America: The Game

My Cousin Bobby

Where does your Loyalty Lie?

Happy Talk Lies

The Stopping Rule

Such a teeny tiny loser man

Teliot State

Donnie’s Last Gift

The Update Problem

Essays on America: Wednesday

Essays on America: Labelism

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

Fencing

What Line?

Clarence but not Darrow

The Extreme Court

Alito’s Egg

Dance of Billions

Fencing

03 Saturday Dec 2022

Posted by petersironwood in poetry, politics

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Democracy, life, poem, poetry, politics, truth, USA

Photo by Regina Pivetta on Pexels.com

The briars dripped with blood & gore

But briars did not hurt enough

The human skin had grown too tough

So wire fences barbed will score.

Photo by Daniel Abbatt on Pexels.com

We just ignore the other side.

If still they claim a crust of bread

We’ll break or bomb or bullet dead

And throw them off our pretty ride. 

Photo by Cleyton Ewerton on Pexels.com

Our pretty ride of glass and steal

Should not be fouled by poorer folk

The words can’t count when poor folk spoke

So we’ll just love our current deal.

Photo by Jimmy Chan on Pexels.com

There’s no appeal for fairer day

No one will blame for stopping here

Our reptile brain must think it queer

To let them in to work and play.

Photo by Henning Roettger on Pexels.com

There’s nought to say but: “It’s complex.”

Lean back & watch some more TV

To practice rich hypocrisy  

To face cruel facts would only vex. 

Photo by Julius Silver on Pexels.com

A lexicon devised to cleave: 

“Illegals” or a “lesser race”

Or seek a different path to grace

Not us?  No need to care or grieve.

The weave we weave is just for us

Perhaps that “US” should be just me

And those who think & look like me

The rest can’t ride on my fine bus.

And when at last the broken bus

There’s no-one left to fix or care

The greed we taught is empty air

That love denied was meant for us.


How the Nightingale Learned to Sing

Siren Song

Dance of Billions

The Ailing King of Agitate

The Echoes of your Actions

The Crows and Me

Hot Dog

The Word for War

Guernica

Three Blind Mice

Stoned Soup

The Orange Man

Absolute is not just a Vodka

Such a teeny tiny man

What Line?

02 Friday Dec 2022

Posted by petersironwood in family, poetry

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

life, poem, poetry, story, truth

Where do you draw the line?

Between the group you’re in 

And the group who’s sin?

I really want to know. 

I am curious in that way. 

But some are far less curious than I. 

And that is a good thing I say.

Why?

Because if everyone were equally curious 

We might all die of the same untested plant

Or seek to glide from cliffs like a hawk

It could be awk

Ward 

Don’t you see? Perhaps I rant. 

But I really want to know: 



Where do you draw the line?

Who is in your clan?

And not okay for travel ban?

And who’s so far outside

You think it good they died?

Here’s a thought you might suppose

The larger your circle you care about 

The larger the family you have.

So I am more than a little curious to know:



Where do you draw the line?

Imagine if every living thing on earth 

Drew a circle as large as earth

Herself and we would all be 

Family. 

So I really want to know: 

Where do you draw the line? 

What does it do to the way they look at you

When you draw a line? 

What does it do to you 

When they draw a line?


What if time were not a straight unbending line?

What if, instead, we create the world that is yet to be?

What if, instead, we filled a future world with love

And beauty. 

So again, I am curious:

Why do you draw a line? 

——— 

Dance of Billions

Listen you can hear the echoes

Somehow

The Forest

You must remember this

The jewels of November

Castles Made of Sand

Such a Teeny, Tiny, Loser Man

20 Sunday Nov 2022

Posted by petersironwood in poetry, politics

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Democracy, poetry, politics, truth, USA

Photo by Min Thein on Pexels.com

He’s such a teeny, tiny, loser man.

A baby in a man-sized orange suit.

When faced with how to place a travel ban

He always took the childish racist route. 

Photo by Todd Trapani on Pexels.com

A fortune bragged, inherited, then lost.

But not to worry, he’ll feign charity.

And when he loses, he lies at any cost.

The party dies but he just swallows pity.

His sportsmanship is mere insistent screams.

He cares for naught save lies he spews each day.

He is the champ of winning in his dreams. 

Knows naught of friendship, love, or learn or play.

Photo by Ben Phillips on Pexels.com

One day, the naked king will lie alone.

And live alone in tweet-space on his phone. 

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

(I’m King! I’m King! Of Everything!)

Stoned Soup

Absolute is not just a vodka

Dick-Taters

RIP, GOP

Where does your loyalty lie?

What about the butter dish?

The stopping rule

The update problem

Siren Song

Essays on America: Wednesday

My Cousin Bobby

The Ailing King of Agitate

Donnie & Veterans Day Parade

Siren Song

Donnie’s Last Gift

Imagine all the People

Dance of Billions

The echoes of your actions

Ah wilderness

You must remember this

The forest

Thirsty Thursday

13 Thursday Oct 2022

Posted by petersironwood in nature

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

beauty, life, nature, rain, truth

Water is life.

At least, most forms of life need water. Indeed, most forms of life are mostly made of water.

Water is some amazing stuff. It’s one of the few things that ordinary people in ordinary circumstances see in solid, liquid, and gaseous phases. One thing that’s unusual about water is that when it freezes, it expands. It also has a high “heat capacity.” This means that water takes a lot of heat energy, relative to most materials, to increase its temperature. It also means that, once heated, it takes a long time for the water to cool to the ambient temperature. It’s why land areas that are near the oceans tend to be more moderate in temperature than similar places inland.

A hundred miles inland from where I live is a place called “Palm Desert.” The average night temp in the coldest month is 41 degrees Fahrenheit while the average daytime temperature in the warmest month is 107 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s a difference of 66 degrees! I live near San Diego, a few miles from the ocean. For San Diego, the average coldest temperature is 51 degrees and the average for the high is 77. That’s a difference of 26 degrees. Quite a difference. That difference is due to the high heat capacity of water.

Water is beautiful in many forms: rivers, springs, waterfalls, clouds, rainbows, dew, rainstorms, ocean waves are just a few of the many ways that water strikes us as beautiful.

A well-fed adult human can last weeks without food but only a few days without water. I wonder whether we also need the beauty of water. It shows that the region we’re in may be survivable. It also indicates there is other life as well nearby. Perhaps as a corollary to these, water may remind us as well that what is “out there” and beautiful to look at is also “in here” — inside us.

Water also plays with and transforms light. When water shows itself as droplets, as shown in the pictures here, it demonstrates two aspects of its nature: it adheres to other surfaces and it coheres to itself. A drop of water on a flower or leaf demonstrates its dual nature. This is also our own dual nature. We must play our part for a time as a separate droplet, but such a droplet does not keep that form forever. Each one of these water droplets has been part of a cloud, part of a river, part of an ocean. We too change. We too need to be coherent. But we also need to interact with and adhere, at least for a time, to aspects of our environment.

A drop of water does not obscure the form of the leaf or petal it finds itself on. Rather, the droplet enhances the form of the leaf or petal upon which it rests.

What about you?

The Walkabout Diaries: The life of the party

The Walkabout Diaries Mind Walk

The Walkabout Diaries Sunsets

The Walkabout Diaries Bee Wise

The Walkabout Diaries Friends

The Walkabout Diaries Life Will Find a Way

The Walkabout Diaries: Walk in the Park

The Walkabout Diaries A New Rose is a New Rose

The Walkabout Diaries: Racism is Absurd

The Walkabout Diaries Lest we Forget

Ice

Dance of Billions

Roar, Ocean, Roar

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