LOVE OF THE COMMON MAN (HONEST!)

by Buff Whitman-Bradley

Netanyahu and Trump, the peacemakers of our time... Cartoon by Tjeerd Royaards

All we have done

Is take off our fedoras

And baseball caps,

But under our space-age flight helmets.

We’re the same good-hearted

Ordinary Joes

We’ve always been.

 

We were remarkably restrained,

Weren’t we?

We said we’d wait and see

And we did,

For hours and hours.

We gave them the opportunity

To cease and desist

Their opposition

To the war being waged against them

By our little brother

(With, admittedly, a little big-brother supporrt).

They did not stop.

 

We know they have nuclear weapons

With which to destroy us. 

Even though “experts” in the CIA

And other suspect organizations

Tell us this enemy

Has no nuclear WMDs.

We know the “experts”

Are wrong. 

We know 

They are going to use those bombs

Against us.

Honest.

If we do not attack them 

They will attack us.

Honest.

So we have taken

A pre-emptive step.

(Pre-emptive is such 

A multifaceted and useful adjective.)

 

We are sorry most people

And most nations

Misunderstand us,

Accuse us of over-weaning ambiton,

Of wanting to rule the entire planet.

We are merely seeking

To take our rightful place

In the hierarchy 

Atop the world order

Where we will reign with

Wisdom and generrosity

And love of the common man

As long as the common man

Doesn’t get too big for his britches

And think he can fight back.

Buff Whitman-Bradley’s latest book is A Friendly Little Tavern Somewhere Near the Pleiades. He podcasts at thirdactpoems.podbean.com .

THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE

by Steven Kent

So listen, sheep: The earth is flat
(There's video to prove just that).
Each contrail you can see today
Was put there by the CIA,
While climate change is just a ruse,
A trick the Bilderbergers use
To dupe us now and gain control.

What's more, they mean to steal your soul
Through wicked work like plant-based meat,
Electric ovens for your heat,
Those 15-minute city plans,
And semi-auto rifle bans.
In fact, the Feds will take all guns,
Emasculate our manly sons,
Then bind us up with UN clamps
And ship us off to FEMA camps.

Bill Gates, we know, has killed a lot
Of people with his Covid shot,
Elections rigged--so neatly planned—
With checks George Soros wrote by hand.
We're red-pilled now, nobody's fools:
We watch and watch 2000 Mules,
Convinced that Biden cheated when
He won before, and will again!

A Swiftly conjured magic spell
May now control the NFL
Since Taylor is a psy-op drone
The Deep State here controls alone,
Her latest romance clearly meant
To reelect the president.
I'd still be in the dark, I'll bet
Had I not found the internet.
With Qanon right by my side,
My eyes at last are open wide:
Each truth another truth begat
Since I put on this tinfoil hat.

Steven Kent is the poetic alter ego of writer, musician, and Oxford comma enthusiast Kent Burnside. His work appears in 251, Asses of Parnassus, Journal of Formal Poetry, Light, Lighten Up Online, New Verse News, Philosophy Now, Pulsebeat Poetry Journal, and Snakeskin. His collection I Tried (And Other Poems, Too) was published in 2023 by Kelsay Books.

ASSANGED

by Lisa Seidenberg

UK Home Secretary Priti Patel has signed an order to extradite WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange (above) to the United States, where he faces espionage charges, in a decision his organization said marked a "dark day for press freedom." —CNN, June 17, 2022

For publishing classified documents

Of military strikes on innocents

Hits on civilians and wartime blunders

In Iraq and Afghanistan, in shocking numbers

It was not a surprise they took him down

Debating if he is journalist

Assange was a one man wanted list

Sheltered for years in the Embassy of Equador

Until they booted him out the door

His mental state, on view, alarming

But, even so, could still be quite charming

Befriended Pamela Lee, a Hollywood alum

Then fathered two babies and married their mum

While passing the hours awaiting a decision

By London magistrates on his extradition

Why does one choose a life so perilous

When most of us risk so much less?

Or did Julian not know what fate would hold

For one who opted to be so bold

To defy the FBI 

And the CIA

To imagine they would look the other way?

In a more principled world - but not today.

Present day martyrs like Assange and Navalny

Join those in history who took a stand

And paid a high price with stern reprimand

For the crime of speaking truth to power 

And not run away—or cower

I would not do so but let us pause to admire

Those who step out of line and into the fire.

Lisa Seidenberg is a writer and filmmaker residing in Connecticut. Twitter: @Leeside33

SEPTEMBER 11

by Peleg Held

On September 11, 1973—Chile's socialist president, Salvador Allende, was overthrown in a coup. He committed suicide under mysterious circumstances as troops surrounded his palace, ushering in more than 15 years of military dictatorship under Augusto Pinochet. Since that time, the CIA has acknowledged knowledge of—but not involvement in—the plot. The agency "was aware of coup-plotting by the military, had ongoing intelligence collection relationships with some plotters, and—because CIA did not discourage the takeover and had sought to instigate a coup in 1970—probably appeared to condone it," the CIA writes in a history of its operations in the South American country. (Declassified documents reveal how the Nixon administration instructed the agency to undermine Allende's government and "make the economy scream.") —Uri Friedman, The Atlantic, September 11, 2014

The infamous rarely die
in caves. Instead they nobly precede
grey-scaled acknowledgements
by a few years, passing quietly
in rich linen and laurel.

In an office filled with smoke,
escorted by explosion and a crackling
fire spreading like arsenic
in an old poet's blood,

his final words were sent ahead
onto the airwaves:


Superarán otros hombres este momento
gris y amargo en el que la traición 

pretende imponerse.

In Chile, they speak of the foreign
pilots, of the murder of thousands,
of September 11, 1973, in Spanish.


Peleg Held lives in Portland, Maine with his partner and his dog Emitt. There is also the semi-feral cat, Smudge. And a kid or two. He writes poetry, does woodworking and lately, dreams of the summer. pelegheld(at)gmail.com.

THE UNITED STATES SENATE TORTURE REPORT

by Christina Pacosz




The griddle of truth is heating up now
The whine of a high speed drill
Blindfolded eyes
Opening
Shackled arms folded in a coffin      Alive or dead

Black  Latina  Arab  Yemeni  Somali Afghani Palestinian Iraqi Pakistani
Lives matter   Lives matter
Poland my motherland just one of dozens of countries Guilty
of hosting and performing torture
An Awful Ballet
written by two US psychologists who were paid $81 million
for their Ballet of Pain      Boasting about making $1000 a day
On the world stage    Now

We demand the Rule of Law
for All
US War criminals
Americans  high on medieval torture
CI A  diplomats   military elite  cabinet appointees   POTUS
Death to the Euphemism
enhanced interrogation techniques   rectal  feeding   black sites
Strawberry Fields
The names    We have the names
George Bush  Dick Cheney  John Ashcroft    Alberto Gonzales

Christina Pacosz’  poetry/writing has appeared in literary magazines and online journals for almost  half a century. A poet-in-the-schools and a North Carolina Visiting Artist, she has published several books of poetry, including Greatest Hits, 1975-2001, Pudding House, 2002, a by-invitation-only series.  Her chapbook, Notes from the Red Zone, originally published by Seal Press in 1983, was selected as the inaugural winner of the ReBound Series by Seven Kitchens Press in 2009.

A BAG OF WORDS

by Craig Brandis

Anti-Bush protester Anna White, from Washington lays a red rose and a banner outside the White House in Washington, October 17, 2006. Reuters/Jason Reed via International Business Times

“We tortured some folks” –Barak Obama, August 1, 2014

Like flying birds
We snapped as twigs

Covering our own heads
With a bag of words


Craig Brandis is a singer-songwriter and is the author of the poetry chapbook Altitude. His poems have been published in the Friends of William Stafford Newsletter and The Camel Saloon.