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)

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.

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.

Sixth of June- They Came on!

The Sixth of June- D-Day, Overlord.
Words spoken in reverent whispers between old soldiers,
The forces of Liberty
Set forth on the old continent,
To make the world safe for democracy
For the second time in a quarter century.

As the parachutes billowed in the early hours,
And the overloaded gliders slammed into the ground,
As the bombers laid out rolling thunder,
And the fighters strafed the shore,
As the thunder from destroyers, cruisers, and battleships,
Fell as barrages against the shore,
The landing craft came in,
Wave upon wave, upon wave.

From the pillboxes and prepared positions
Lead and death flowed down in fiery rivulets.
Through the dying and the dead,
The men came on.
In sputtered starts and stops with grim, determination.
They came on.
Despite the carnage and the chaos,
They came on.
First to the water’s edge then the bloody, battered beach;
Next the seawall, the cliffs, and then breakout.
They came on.
Through village, hedgerow, and town,
They came on.
Though the fight was not finished,
There was still much to come
Through Cherbourg, St. Lo, Caen, Falaise, Argentan, Paris,
They Came on.
Until the Reich was broken
By the hammer and the sickle and the bulldog and the eagle.
Still they came on.

Of Forges and Fates

National Cathedral

War is the crucible of humanity

Where heat and pressure burn away the dross

Transforming society.

 

The experience might forge a new society

As a rare and valuable alloy

Useful in its blending of elements;

Or,

It might just as easily,

Leave a brittle weakened state,

With poor metal in its spine,

Ready to shatter under the pressure,

Fragmenting in to shards of itself.

 

The nation that welds its various components,

Into one blade upon the forge,

Under the hammer beats of history,

Through in the fire of tribulation,

Tempered with a quench

Of Humanity and Humility,

Shall always win the day.