Thursday, February 17, 2011

Keep Our Guns Send Our Butter

The news each day show a growing wave of chaos in the Middle East..from Tunisia, Libya, Egypt, Yemen, Bahrain, and even Iran. We can only hold our breath to see how the chips will fall and whether the theocrats of fanaticism or whether the winds of freedom will take root. Will these be a move to a growing jihad or the first steps of democratic rule in societies almost fuedal and with respect to their treatment of women totally so. Lost in the smoke and stones is another lurking dragon seed waiting to sprout with all its havoc--rising price of food across the world but most prounounced in the third world to the tune of at least 1,000,000,000. Most nations in the era of UN cease fires and nuclear protectors face danger from within not from without, yet we continue to send the advanced toys of military conflict--tanks, F-16s, helicopters, to foreign military like Egypt in the hope of buying their allegiance. Read on for perhaps a better solution

Food Should Be The Weapon Of Choice

Napoleon knew that armies did not march with their feet.
Otherwise, even before Russia he would have seen defeat.
An army marches on its stomach and must be fed
Or the jaws of defeat will lie directly ahead.
Ideas of freedom from a tryant's draconian rule
May without warning cause people to pick up stones and lay down tools,
But those protests and strikes may be like a candle in the wind
Use of armed force, massive and deadly, the urges may quickly rescind
But a hunger which gnaws to the bone each and every day,
Weakens the mind and causes the body to totter and sway,
While the developed countries are obese and one's own rulers well fed--
That's an eternal flame of anger and protest we here should dread
God help us if prices take away the loaves of bread
Like Marie, all rulers may soon lose their heads
And into a vacuum, the rivers of revolt and unrest will flow
Years of feeding corn to cars will in the flames light up our woes
Silos now empty of grain we used to buy and store
Our farmers have cash but we should hear the coming roars
"Feed me! Feed me! Food now I cannot afford!"
What the hell I'll pick up the stone and sword!"
While people starve, we send to generals with false ribbons coating their chests
Not the hand-me-downs of arms but the upgraded and the very best
Enough tanks to rumble the ground and jets to cover the air,
While stomachs are grumbling and pantries stand empty and bare
We have spent billions on sent arms to keep the status quo
Doomed to failure, states now toppling like dominoes in a row.
If we replaced the feast of arms with platters of all manner of food to eat,
Maybe, just maybe, with full stomach, revolt at the world table will find no seat.
(c) February 17, 2011 Michael P Ridley a/k/a the Alaskan Poet

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Valentine's Day 2011

Valentine's Day is almost here and soon the skies will be dark with Cupid's arrows to blot out the sun with spent feathers fluttering to the ground like a late snow storm. The pressure is on to find the perfect gift, a polaris free from fad or drift. Never fear if the Alaskan Poet can still hear the baying of the wolves and the rustle in the bushes of hungry bear, without fear of failure the perfect gift is suggested. Hope you and your Valentines enjoy along with daily 4 line iambic tweets on

The Perfect Gift

Love is like a Noble gas that without warning fills the room
Or the flower that never wilts, always in perfect bloom
The laws of physics, love often refutes
No matter the objects, it seems never to dilute
No eyes, yet it always seems to see
No arms, yet it always lies alee
Surely no ears, yet it always seems to hear
Not just the sounds but also a lover’s inner fears.
And when it comes to the tactile sense
So very lasting, so very intense
With nary a twitch, nor slightest sniff
All manner of aromas it will easily sift
The future it may not always be quick to foretell
But a honed sixth sense within surely dwells
Like a nova it may burst into white hot flame
From gifts for passion to unleash and worries to tame
The roses, candles, chocolates, jewelry and cards
Soften up the heart for the moment of the bard
For roses wilt, candles burn, flicker and no longer light the room
Cards find the trash and chocolate no matter how fine is finally consumed
Not the roses are red and violets are blue
No, another melody of a different, warming hue,
No. the muse who in the soft quiet of the night
When of all the senses only love has any sight
And can hear the heart in rhythmic beat
And can feel the warm glow beneath the sheets
Leaves then the poem that will be the perfect gift
Up the highs, sooth the lows and mend a not too often rift
A poem of many stanzas tailored to one’s lover unique
And why with all the blessings no need to another ever seek
But a poem with a central rhythmic core
“You cause my heart to beat faster, my soul to soar
No matter the time, nor date of year
Each day with you has a Valentine to caress so dear.”
Michael P. Ridley
a/k/a the Alaskan Poet
February 8, 2011