"kissinger" poems
If I could figure out the snit that I’m in now,
and understand the state, and how I got there
then perhaps I’ll get a sense of where I’m heading,
or at least from where I started this long journey.
My mind is shackled like a prisoner on the lam
and crashing out for freedom’s choice or bust.
I must admit I’m crazy from the fever,
and searching for the answers never found.
There was Martin, and John and Gandhi too
teaching love ins, peace and happiness.
We wrote and sang and made love in bushes
While celebrating Woodstock Nation.
But, we had Tricky **** and Kissinger
insisting on a war that no one wanted.
The killing fields stretched cross the ocean
to my backyard and yours, remember?
So choose my brethren, choose between
a war of blood, dismay and torture
or of peace and love and happiness,
and a place called Woodstock Nation.
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 12:27 PM UTC
Oh Henry
What a star you are!
You always loved to be at the center of attention
Your accomplishments in diplomacy are well known
You brokered the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt
You effected detente with the Soviet Union
You opened up the way for Nixon in China
You negated the Communist threat in Chile
You said it yourself
"Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”
You have admitted that mistakes were
"Quite possibly made"
By administrations in which you served.
You have questioned whether, 30 years after the event,
"Courts are the Appropriate means by which determination is made".
And Cambodia Henry?
You were complicit
In the illegal carpet bombing of neutral Cambodia
Which sowed the seeds for the murderous Pol *** regime
Pinochet was indicted for human rights violations
Diplomacy is a ***** business
You did what you thought needed to be done
You remain cold and secretive
Do you have any remorse or regret?
The old Russian proverb is wrong Henry
Time does not heal all wounds
There is blood on your hands
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
it is great
to be well away
from those jousting women
all they ever do
is throw verbal bombs
at each other
that seems to be
their field of play
several nasty shots
were fired tonight
which wasn't
a very pretty scene
the ladies got into the boxing ring
which did disturb
some of the folk
a resolution to their feud
is looking
rather remote
a mediator
may need to be called in
someone
with Kissinger
negotiation skills
peace may then
be bought about
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 8:40 AM UTC
Kissinger's in the House today,
trailing choking ****** fumes
kicking aside limbless tiny bodies
too, too innocent by far,
all dripping entrails & shattering
dry bones gladly underfoot
as he lopes horrendously
all death rictus grin & such
as he once again justifies
to St Peter at the gates
the millions crushed, obliterated
blown into tiny misty red fragments
as he played his all-mighty diplomatic
history lessons on a helpless, distant
once green & fertile land.
Forgiveness? Ha!
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 12:57 PM UTC
Henry Kissinger
is a man
of great diplomatic skills
he could quite easily
obtain a job
working in them there
rancorous hills
with Henry doing
the negotiations
there would be
an outbreak of peace
within those hilly
elevations
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
Financiers feel superior to farmers
and pundits have it over poets.
All to the good because if you think America's
doing just fine, don't skip to the poetry reviews.
Our enemies are barbarous, our allies duplicitous
but our smart bombs are smart - that's how they found you.
Dad said all wars are resource wars. Follow
the money. The world needs more order, nothing
less than Nazis, never may the anarchic man's thoughts
be my thoughts, each shove sends a ping,
shields urge on shields, helmets helmets, we can be
the reigning kings between the last empire and the next
or implement a vision of collective deliberation
and binding agreements. Can China's navy
be harnessed to ensure free passage through
the South China Sea? We'll see how
things work out in the next generation.
In the meantime should I read Henry Kissinger's meditations?
He who thinks poetry's effete
probably considers Darwin a geek and Einstein
a postal clerk. Containment means leaving space
for the passionate and zealous to face themselves
and giving them missiles that don't work.
Slowing everyone down until one thing's done well -
governance or sustenance or brotherhood.
When violence comes to the neighborhood
the hierarchy will hold or fold, it is then the peace work proves
relevant.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching outer space
for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
By that what is meant. Sitting still and thinking deeply
on the relation of anger to coercion,
systems for correcting the decisions of earlier presidents.
We're required to report incidents of depression
to a doctor because you're a valued member of of our community,
or so insignificant no one notices or cares.
How necessary the interface of war and poetry!
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
So he's back ...
George 'Second Iraq
Massacre' Bush,
& I was wondering if or when
it would actually happen
this rising from the foggy
miasma of retirement,
& you do question whether
there's a publicist or it
was discussed around
the family table,
"Well .. its been 8 years now,"
"Is it time yet?"
& apart from a truly puzzling
dancing & swaying appearance
at a black-suit memorial where
he grabbed Michelle's hand &
looked more like a 5 year old
at a birthday party,
well, he's been very quiet,
but of course we've also
been granted the opportunity
to view his oh so charming
paintings,
to see him at work in his studio,
producing dog portraits & simple
naive sincerely primitive famous
people faces akin to art-day at the
old-folks home or a pre-school
honors wall,
& it seems no one wanted his opinion
on anything at all these last years,
but now, oh now he's with us again,
all bashful & "aw shucks" when he's
asked by some obsequious host
about his fondness for Michelle,
& becoming near front-page news
after a mild rebuke of Trump,
& no doubt soon he'll be on Late Night
& such, where Jimmy Kimmel can rustle
his hair & be all smitten & oh so grateful
for the privilege of his company,
& perhaps when Kimmel does chuckle
so sweetly at their dazzling repartee
that night someone could shout out
from the audience ... "Remember the
War Dead",
for its seems America soon forgives
& forgets & its war criminals &
Oliver North & George W. Bush
are allowed to grin & pontificate
& nothing is remembered & isn't
he just aging so well & don't we
just hang on every word & oh
how he matters still.
Next week maybe Kissinger will
come on to entertain us awhile,
sandwiched between cute pet
tricks & some giggling 20 year old
Hollywood starlet hawking her
new blockbuster.
America forgets very, very quickly
doesn't it,
so so quickly.
Mar 8, 2017
Mar 8, 2017 at 6:41 PM UTC
Though you lose, thus becoming an intimate as a lover or friend, brother or sister, parent,
you will always lose through attrition or accident.
We know that 9/11’s are attrition and
love is always an accident, because
we reap what we sow, and never choose whom we love.
Attrition is the rain, forming
from pressure within the skies,
high and low temperatures at Armageddon:
yin and yang becoming earth’s tears.
Accident is the rain, vilifying
the evil of being from these two lessers of the skies,
love is sought but never found or found at odd places:
yin and yang becomes earth’s joy.
Thus, rain is a lie, liar, lying, saying
joy and love at the same time.
But love is not from this world. It is
not recognized, but named… “No” to the world’s belligerence.
We know love is expressed by this action, yes…
Thus, it’s not a lie. Love cannot be otherwise
or we would’ve never crucified the Savior
or our true loves for the world…
Love cannot exist naked.
It is always ready to be whipped, strangled, maimed
as Jesus or a twice victimed Iraqui,
the third world or as Salvadore Allende.*
But I love the rain despite my self.
It is within the reach of definitions
but not confirmations. So, love
like rain cannot be held hostage
by human view nor divine postage.
I love as it rains, I rain as I love.
From here, in my prayer, let my love of rain be love.
*Found in Voices of a People’s History of the United States, by Howard Zinn and Anthony Arnove, and the now canonical historical work of the United States by the same Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States: “Watergate had made both the FBI and the CIA look bad---breaking the laws they were sworn to uphold, cooperating with Nixon in his burglary jobs and illegal wiretapping. In 1975, congressional committees in the House [of Representatives] and Senate began investigations of both the FBI and CIA…It was also learned from the investigation that the CIA---with the collusion of a secret Committee of Forty headed by Henry Kissinger—had worked to ”destabilize” the Chilean government headed by Salvadore Allende , a Marxist who had been elected president in one of the rare free elections in Latin America.” (pp.554). For a more balanced view on the complicity of Kissinger and his role in U.S foreign policy, moreover his role in the death of Allende, see or read the acclaimed movie or book: The Trials Henry Kissinger.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall, HSG
[email protected]
Henry Kissinger Has Left His Multi-Million-Dollar Apartment
The bodyguards, the security details
The long black cars, the cooing movie stars
The expensive dinner jackets tailored just so
The best cigars, the rarest of champagnes
The jeweled watches and those golden cufflinks
The many underlings awaiting his call
The fawning bishops at the Al Smith dinners
The publishers eager to print his latest screeds
The voice that commanded armies and fleets
And left presidents quivering in fear
The millions of corpses rotting in the sun
I live in the Managerial Age, in a world of "Admin." The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid "dens of crime" that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice. Hence, naturally enough, my symbol for Hell is something like the bureaucracy of a police state or the offices of a thoroughly nasty business concern.
-C. S. Lewis, Preface to The Screwtape Letters
Dec 1, 2023
Dec 1, 2023 at 3:05 PM UTC
Today is July 4, 2020. There is not much to celebrate. **** Trump leaves us in a Polynicean gloom. Fireworks remind me of wars. I would rather, and therefore will, listen to Rachmaninov's PIANO CONCERTO NO. 2 tonight.
I will celebrate beauty rather than killing. And I will give thought to Antigone as well, for she willingly gave her life for doing what was right. I shall listen to Yuja **** arpeggiate notes. I will again become fixated both by her light-
ning dexterity and the glorious sounds to which she gives birth. Humankind has this dual potential: it can either **** or care. So why, I ask myself, does it always choose the former? On this national holiday especially, why do we now not celebrate Thomas Paine and Walt Whitman and Harriet Tubman and Eugene Debs and Martin Luther King Jr.? We do we not collectively ask forgiveness for all the covert, sinister, malevolent interventions into the affairs of other nations, resulting in unjust overthrows and war crimes aplenty? Fireworks? July 4th? We did defeat the evil of ****** and his unspeakable genocide. Let us be sure to give unending thanks to all those who lost their lives in this moral victory. But Viet Nam? The lives of 58,000 American soldiers lost for the lies of our leaders? And Kissinger and McNamara and the Bushes and Cheney and so many others in our government never held accountable for their war crimes? And yet tonight we have fireworks instead of Nuremberg-like trials. Antigone knew she would die if she buried her brother, Polynices, and yet she went ahead and buried him and died for doing it. And the 4,000,000 blacks who were slaves in 1861 and the 500 indigenous nations that covered for centuries from sea to shining sea what we now call America--did they have anything to celebrate on this day, on this date? Fireworks, that's all.
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 10:10 PM UTC
Joplin was to Southern Comfort,
what Hendrix was to smack
Morrison was to masquerade,
what Dylan never lacks
Woodstock was to 69,’
what music was to time
Saigon was to those who stayed,
what Auschwitz now reminds
Kennedy was to hopes and dreams,
what nightmares were to some
Castro was to leftist thugs,
what cymbals are to drums
Kissinger was to Nixon
what Canada was to home
Dr. King to civil rights,
what kings are to their thrones
Walter Cronkite was to news,
what intention was to fact
Altar boys were to Priests,
what pretzels are to snacks
58,000 were to die,
what a wall was to proclaim
58,000 were to all,
what conscience is to shame
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:35 AM UTC
America ... your soul is green. your fingers mint currency, your feet forge false ingots, your eyes see empty horizons, your legs march towards false dawns ...
America ... you've got your cheap tv, you've captured joy & containment, you've cornered the market, you've found all lost prophets, you've made sure of the final episodes ...
America ... you surely contain me, you ever so definitely horrify me, you each & every day lessen me, you overwhelm me, you reduce me ...
America ... the world becomes you, the people love you, the children envy you, the papas imitate you, the mamas just hope you ...
America ... your dollar excludes me, your banks deny me, your corporations just overlook me, your industries may soon destroy me ...
America ... your future awaits you, your poor folk haunt you, your rich folk dazzle you, your news just smokes & mirrors you, your understanding ... is beyond me.
America ...your closets are never too full, your wallets call you, your purses cry out to you, your credit cards whisper to you, & in secret your dollar bills make love to you ...
America ... your karma dooms you, your Kissinger is not funny, your Reagan dines with Satan, your preachers preach with poison, your Christians destroy you ...
America ... can you hear me? you don't answer my calls, do I have the wrong number? are you just plain avoiding me?
America ... you think I'm kidding? you think you can out-wait me? you think I'm all mouth & no trousers? you think your days aren't numbered? ...
America ... I'm tired of waiting, I'm now on a mission, I'll recruit my soldiers, I'll destroy your temples, I'll overturn your tables, I'll tell the end of your stories, I'll just plain overcome you ...
America ... you think I'm joking?
(With a nod to young Allen of course)
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:45 PM UTC
Sincerely David,
lovely apparition for the man in me,
lovely decadence of the eagerly,
lovely poem lovely,
Kissinger and the dearly,
how often does one remember
how often of the off
off the membrane of the soft
off the remembrance of thy spine
love your poems and the manly woman
women are they eager of Shakespeare?
Oct 4, 2022
Oct 4, 2022 at 6:56 AM UTC
My parents gave up on abundance,
A depression cured them all,
We gave up on love,
Kissinger's madness began our fall,
Gen X gave up on friendship,
Dialogue as digits never could enthrall,
Millennials surrendered nostalgia,
When the past became a troll,
Gen Z smirks boldly at the truth,
Everyone a know-it-all.
Alpha's know a virtual world,
Could virtue re-install.
Be kind. Tis the moment to be jolly.
Season's greetings to you all.
Dec 3, 2023
Dec 3, 2023 at 11:57 AM UTC
There was the backfield tandem of Doc Blanchard and Glenn Davies on several West Point football teams of the UOS.
There is that power hitting duo of the modern day Yankees - Gary Sanchez and Aaron Judge.
There were those great power hitters of the 70s, I believe, that seemed to come in clusters like Mike Schmidt, Breen Downing, and yes, I believe, John Milner.
There was, of course, Ruth and Gehrig that stood out on the 1927 Yankees.
There's Hawke Leonard and James Harden, an unsung pair of the San Antonia Spurs and the Houston Rockets, respectively, in pro basketball that stand out.
There's Stephan Curry and Kevin Durant, a Mutt and Jeff combination in the Golden State Warriors.
There was a couple of gifted first to play on a University of Illinois basketball team African Americans that were tantalizing good at that time - Mannie Jackson and Governor Vaughn.
There was those 4 great old time Boston Celtics guards; Bob Cousy, Bill Sharman, K.C. Jones, and Sam Jones.
There was Bill Bradley and Dave Debusschere manning the wings of the New York Knickerbockers pro basketball teams of the late sixties, I believe.
There was Ron Kissinger and Glenn Becker, the keystone duo on the Chicago Cubs of the sixties, I believe.
There was Mainstay, reliable pitcher for the Casey Stengal dynasty teams - Vic Raschi and Allie Reynolds and there were great teamsmen of Vince Lombardi's pro football Green Bay Packers Super Bowl team like Dave Hammer, Forrest Gregg, and Boyd Dowler.
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC