New poem: "America's Constitutional Ideal"

 

America’s Constitutional Ideal

 

That horny, little, wall-eyed Frenchman

who said, “man is condemned to be free,”

got it ass-backwards; not because his dialectic

brought him to this conclusion, but because

there was no room for God in a philosophy

that made man the center of everything

and the breeding ground for the vilest mental

virus to plague the world since Adam’s sin;

that’s why Donald J. Trump, the 45^th President

of the United States who won the election

to become the 47^th President, was called by life

to address the problem of this mental virus

by inspiriting his nation with new hope, desire,

and belief in the omniscient guiding principle

of life that spared him from an assassin’s bullet

in Butler, Pennsylvania and on his golf course

in Florida so that he could correct Sartre’s tragic

misperception that man is a “useless passion”

who is condemned to be free, when truth be told

we are free to be condemned by the choices

we make, the fundamental premise of America’s

constitutional ideal that summoned Donald J. Trump

to become the 47^th President of the United States

and destroy this pernicious mental virus and make

America the home of the brave, the strong,

and God-fearing people again.

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Saturday, December 21, 2024

 

 

 

 

New poem: "Trump's Humor"

Trump’s Humor

 

Humor is a kind of language

too. It does not mean what

it says, but it says what it means;

like the President of the United

States calling Canada his 51^st

State, and the Premier of Canada

his Governor. President Trump

was trolling Premier Trudeau,

not because he is serious about

making Canada his 51^st State,

but because he uses humor as

a corrective to get what he wants

to go his way; and as annoying

as Trump’s humor may be to

whoever may be in his crosshairs,

it serves its purpose of waking

them up from their stuporous

complacency.

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Thursday, December 19, 2024

New Poem: "The Gift of Suffering"

 

The Gift of Suffering

 

He came from the distant future

to plant the seed that changed the course

of human history, the gift of suffering

that makes the false self real, the gift

that spares the soul from coming back

to live life over again to grow in love

and understanding, a path that goes

nowhere but back to itself again. “There

is no other time or place to find yourself.

Now is your only context,” said the redeemer,

rendering reincarnation moot; and to reap

the gift of suffering that sets us free from

the endless cycle of life and death,

he died on the cross to sanctify

his gift to the world.

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

New poem: "A Wily, Crafty Survivor"

 

A Wily, Crafty Survivor

 

Was he a liar, a truth teller,

or a wily, crafty survivor?

Did he lie to make his point,

and tell the truth to affirm it;

or did he tell the truth, then lie

to defeat his tainted opponent?

Whatever he did to cast his spell,

Donald J. Trump won the race

and took back the Oval Office;

and it doesn’t matter in the

meanest game of life if he was

a liar, a truth teller, or a wily,

crafty survivor.

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Monday, December 9, 2024

New Poem: "The Way Points of Life"

 

 

The Way Points of Life

 

“This life is the way, the long sought-after

way to the unfathomable, which we call divine.

There is no other way, all other ways are false

paths,” said the true founding father of depth

psychology, C. G. Jung, which came to my mind

as I watched two deep thinkers, Dr. Jordan B.

Peterson, author of “We Who Wrestle with God,”

and Vivek Ramaswamy, author of “Truths: The

Future of America First,” discourse in good faith

as they talked about their own way to truth, God,

and their true self, and I was astonished (though I

should not have been) at the parallels of the way

points of life in their individual quest for life’s

purpose and meaning; and I smiled to myself at

Jung’s magnificent revelation that life itself, with

all of its ups and downs, is the way to our destined

purpose of spiritual growth and self-fulfilment, which

was why the great psychologist said in his “Memoirs,

Dreams, Reflections” — “My life is a story of the

self-realization of the unconscious.” As indeed,

 is yours and mine!

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Friday, September 20, 2024

New poem: "My Incredible Naivete"

 

My Incredible Naiveté

 

While listening to a YouTube podcast  

(The Victor Davis Hanson Show), it came

to me be way of divine revelation—it had

to have been divine, because I could never

have imagined it—how incredibly naïve

I am about so many things, the blood sport

of politics specifically; and the more I delve

into this most ancient of human activities,

the more idiotic I feel; and I don’t know

whether to wail at my blind presumption,

or thank the heavens for having the chutzpa

to explore human nature from another

perspective besides literature, which seeks

to make sense of the human condition from

every possible experience. I’m really enjoying

this new adventure, despite my incredible

naiveté; and I have Donald J. Trump, whose

life story could make the [os1] Great American,

Novel, to thank for my new interest.

 

Composed in Tiny Beaches,

Georgian Bay, Southcentral, Ontario

Saturday, November 30, 2024

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 [os1]