8 Billion PLUS 1 (2025)

22/04/2025

21 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

514

FOR BETTER, OR FOR WORSE

“FOR BETTER, OR FOR WORSE”
You’ve heard the term before,
It has to do with making commitments;
You can repeat the rest

Of the promises, one is asked to make.
I shan’t repeat them here, they add little
to my theme, my subject. Do I hear
Fingers tapping, “Get on with it!”

For better, for worse!
The theme is commitments.
Those we seek; those that choose us;
One could discuss “free will” and choice;

These have their limits.
It’s a matter of DOING and BEING.
Do you want to write? To paint? To sculpt?
It begins simply enough, not too demanding;

Then you want more, to improve, to better yourself;
The process becomes more demanding,
Requiring a greater degree of commitment;
Demanding more of yourself, do you say “stop”?

“No more!?” It would be your choice to say I quit”.
The other option is to embrace your passion;
To say “I am yours; lead me where you will”.
The principle’s the same for sports, commerce.

And dare I say, “Life”, and everything it covers?
Everything it covers: the lot, the small, and the large;
From the gently caressing to the overwhelming;
From gasping in delight to cowering in fear;

From optimism to despair.
Things happen in LIFE. We are born, grow, and develop.
Sometimes things go astray, and we have to adapt;
We continue to grow, upskill and learn more.

It’s the relationships that we find ourselves defined in
and by that interests me. Parenthood is a primary one.
Is there a choice in being a parent? Yes? No? Maybe?
Is it a commitment? For certain! For how long?

A lifetime. Is it something you “grow into”?
Kind of. Do you ever stop learning?
An academic question? No. No. No. No.
Is the process of raising children scientific?

(read methodical, logical?). No x 5
There’s an element of planning;
The process is chaotic, emotional, and exhausting.
Learn from your disasters. Is the problem long-lasting?

There is no closure date unless mutually agreed.
There is no “it’s too hard”; try, try, try.
A father is committed to his sons;
They might be committed to him;

His commitment is to share his love
With them, regardless of circumstance.
A commitment that has only one end.
For better, for worse; until death do us part.

Until death do us part.
The final “goodbye”.

Leslie D Bush
© 1 March 2022

21/04/2025

20 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

513

DARK, you say; do you say, my poem is DARK?

THE FINAL CHOICE

The 20th Century taught us a lot; much we would rather not have known,
About ourselves, our society, and our dependence on our past.
The rate of change has been accelerated; humans fear they are being left behind
They are worried, apprehensive, and fearful of change.

Change must be restricted

They say that as they huddle together in tightly defined communities,
Rejecting that which is different. An ideal time to ask the question of questions,
The one we fear to confront, the one we must, what is the nature of evil?
Teetering on the edge of a global environmental challenge, it is surely time to ask

"What is evil? How can it be identified? Define it as you will, as you desire.
It's laissez-faire, a free-for-all. Is it not?
Religions can define it. It's the opposite of what they teach, simple!
Totalitarian regimes define it. You guessed "the opposite of what they teach,

Control brutally without pity. Long live the state, other such nonsense.
(Oops, did I say that?) The problem is, we sense it: evil, as an intent,
act, or result of an action. Do we? Don't we? Not being a mind reader,
I will say, as an observation, that we do.

It is in the definition that we stumble and fall.
Is it the same for me as it is for us all?
Death. The murder of an individual,
a mass murder; senseless one says;

So sad, disgusting, tragic, and a zillion synonyms,
All inadequate to express our feelings.
Oh so simple if it were just you and me.
Sharing conversation. Defining terms,

building a basis of understanding. Then, there were three?
The greater the number, the increased the importance of recording the rules.
Rules are open to interpretation, interpretations can harden into beliefs
And belief systems: the beginnings of Politics and Religion.

Aye, there's the rub. The difficulty, obstruction of objection.
From left and right, yes, both terms are used, without understanding.
Opposing camps, constantly grandstanding. Oblivious to each other.
It is axiomatic to each of them that their beliefs are right, correct, and proper,

Matching the intensity of their belief, and the other must, by definition, be wrong.
Is it within this conflict that the seeds of evil lie? A fire awaiting a flame?
Is this our future, one we cannot escape? We are all the same!
The banality of evil. Can one who is not evil commit an evil act?

Is "Evil" an answer seeking a question, or a question seeking an answer?
It defies A definition. Want a definition? Be my guest. Yours will be as valid as mine.
A disappointing situation for so serious a consideration. Would you not agree?
Let's see if we can shed light on the subject: you and me.

Is an action evil in the nature of the action, in the intent,
or as a result of the action? History, Horror and mythology
have defined the 20th Century's consciousness and awareness:
Between Auschwitz and Hiroshima, the boundaries of our future are marked.

We fumble to grasp the immensity of synchronised systematic murder
against the horror of a force we barely understand.
Mass murder or mass destruction? A choice? No choice!
There's something out there. Huge, dark, pensive, lurking, with murderous intent

And a complete lack of empathy. The nations' armies? Yes. Nuclear weapons? Yes. Pacts between nations? Yes. Something? We're occupants of a world teetering on self-destruction. Our greatest fear, our greatest enemy, we come to know
It is within ourselves; is it darkness in our DNA.

Welcome to the wonderful, amazing, gifted world of humanity, waiting to die.
What should we fear? Fear. Uninformed, ii informed, mass manipulated fear
Aka Politics & religion, the mass marketing of ideas. The guardians of the faith
Use it all the time. Truth/falsehood? It's all the packaging, the presentation.

Who's right? Who's wrong? Who's insecure? At-risk? Who's strong?
To misquote Paul Simon: “There must be 50 ways to leave a planet”!
Broken? Beyond repair? Depleted. Destroyed? Rejected? Used up?
Slight problem: there's no Plan B.

IS THAT THE FINAL CHOICE?
Can you hear a plaintive voice, saying
We were afraid. Life is so hard!
Living is terrible, wondrous and tumultuous

I never found it frightening to the extreme
Have you?

Leslie Bush
© 23 March 2021
(revised 02082023)

20/04/2025

19 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

512

ENERGY AND MATTER

From a personal “If I had the energy, it might matter”.
To the cosmic, the square root of (energy over matter)
equals a universal constant, the speed of light
Travelling in a vacuum of space as we know it

Confused? Are you eager to retreat to the first line?
“If I had the energy, it might matter!”? Ponder and wonder
If your idea of energy were on a scale of 1 to 10, representing
The infinitesimally small to the infinitesimally large

Your plea might only just register. If it did, it would be on
The same line shows motor cars, rockets and stars
Fiercely burning and spreading light. Further, the equation shows
We do matter, that energy and matter are eternally linked

That we can be said to be made up of material from the Big Bang
Billions of years ago. There’s no “if”. Matter and energy
are variations of the same thing in the state of being
Each can convert into the other.

In our next life
We could be a star
A Luminous, Fiery Star
A Star To Wish Upon

Leslie D. Bush
© 25 September 2024

19/04/2025

17 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

511

FRACTURED UNIVERSES

It’s A Simple Conceit.
We are our own universe,
It contains how we view others,
Respond to others, exclude

Or include others.
As such, using the universe
As a model, are we expanding?
Constantly renewing, replacing

Elements of ourselves?
Cope with extremes of heat
and energy? Yeah, kinda.
We have extremes of emotion:

Similar? As universes,
Would we be incomplete?
Fractured, broken?
How would we compensate

Compensate for our defects?

Leslie D Bush
© 10 January 2022

17/04/2025

16 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

510

EULOGIES

It's that time of life. The final countdown.
No, I'm not sad, depressed or despondent,
Simply aware. Aware that time is passing.
Simply stated, anything I write now

And in the future, is a form of eulogy,
Saying goodbye, thanks for the dance,
The games we played. For the laughter,
The tears, the frantic grabbing for as much

As we could. Boom goes the kettle drum,
Full force the orchestra and massed choir.
I ain't dead yet. Just observing the patterns of life.
Autumn, winter, summer, spring (repeat).

Devoid of colour, my musings shall be?
Monotonous monotone pictures, faded into obscurity?
No sir, not me. I will be the god of fire (take your pick),
Choose a country, a continent, or a culture.

Feel my anger and rage; laugh at it, you might.
For that moment I will become alive, hog the spotlight,
Feel alive, one more memory, to be counted
One more obstacle to take on, be mounted,

One more adventure in the absurd; revel in its intricacy,
Its richness of texture; its lessons for humanity.
The god of fire? Yes, suitably dramatic?
Suitably absurd?

[Music cue: the dancing Pandas?]

Leslie Bush
© 7 May 2021

16/04/2025

15 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

509

ETHICAL CHOICES AND DECISIONS

There’s a question, “Is ethics deserving
Of an upper-case E, or not?” Actually
That’s a separate issue. Try again
“Are choices and decisions, an ethical matter”

Are ethics a result of the application
Of something being done to something
Are there categories? The ethics of war?
The ethics of resolving conflict?

Indeed, what are ethics, what is an ethic
Is it moral, similar, synonymous; or anonymous?
It’s one of those words in the English language
That buzz around like flies or angry wasps

Are ethics situational? Are they relative?
Are mine the same as yours; if not, why not?
Let’s start with something generally agreed on
Ethics and morals are related. A good beginning

Is it ethical to create wars, punish people
Obstruct the quality of individual lives
Because of some random issue
NO! So what is the use of having ethics?

FX, I can understand. They create special effects
In movies; they have their professionals
They speak their language, and they understand
And have intelligent, intelligible conversations

An ethicist proclaims, “War is bad!”
The response? Silence, then a babble of voices
“How about, if/when “they” sneeze
Or are generally uncouth

Should, ought and such imperatives
Demand, demands, commands
There should be ethical standards
Applied relating with each other

Communicating with each other
Resolving differences between persons
Enabling an individual to express themselves
Assertively, passionately is it be the case

In such a case, there should be ethicists
Individuals retained in the disciplines of ethics
That involves education and training
But something more! Love. Love? Love?

I could have begun this poem with a quote
From Tina Turner’s “What’s Love got to do with It?”
I didn’t. So it goes. Round and round the raspberry bush
Oblah dah. Oblah dee. Life continues

Love, however, is an essential element
Whether as an umbrella term under which
Is listed morals, ethics, and guidelines for humans
To follow in the behaviour and relationships

It also suggests that within a hierarchy, Love
Has a predominant position, and identifying ethics
Morals or prescriptive guidelines
Is not up for debate or discussion

Maybe, should ethical or moral standards
be left to individuals; there will be chaos
What’s that you are saying? Chaos?
There already is chaos!

Re-cue Tina Turner
“What’s love got to do with It??”

Leslie D. Bush
© 8 February 2024

14/04/2025

·
14 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

508

EDITH, A story

1.

An Introduction

This is a story
That is and isn’t
About Edith
Edith????

Edith is not a person
She could be a song
Not too short
Not too long

A piece of music
Played on a harp
A relaxing melody
Well played

She could be an entire orchestra
While nominally female
Edith is neither representative of
Or a commentary on female-ness

Edith is also neither a critique
Or an indictment of being male.
Edith is. Edith is a name.
That’s all. Picked randomly

from a vast library of names
Edith might or might not be
Representative of society
Which society, you ask

Edith is not associated
Or based on anybody
Bearing that name
Living or deceased

Edith is, for my purposes
An imaginary human
Into whom the history
Of humanity has filled her being

2.

Voices

The pain, the anger, the longing
Is Edith angry? She would have a right
to be. Part of that history is the influence
Of Philosophy. That might moderate her response

Or not. Those voices in her head
Contradict and argue. What does she think
What is she allowed to think? Who is she
What is her name? Edna? That's not the same

Start the poem again? No, Adrienne
The terms are still the same
Regardless of the name
Now, Ariadne, I was saying

Voices! I was speaking of voices
In her head, could they not keep quiet
Let her rest instead. They demand
her attention, overriding each other

It reminds her of her mother
She had problems remembering her name
It was quite a game; it was how she knew
If she was doing what was in the frame

Parents are like that, she assumes
Make your hell; whilst of their love undying
they tell. Wait, did she think that
Or one of her voices, saying, “You have choices.”

“What do you think, Marianne?”
“This is becoming confusing,” she cried
“I seek myself and I am denied!”
“What is my name, anyway? Has it changed?

Am I sane or mentally deranged?”
The voices, not all, try to comfort her
No Hazel. You are mentally sound

For a woman with voices in her head
That goes round and round

3.

What is my name?
“Hazel. Who is Hazel?
Why do you address me thus?”
Hazel, my dear, is not a person

While nominally female
Edith is neither representative of
Or a commentary on female-ness
Hazel is also neither a critique

Or an indictment of being male.
Hazel is. Hazel is a name.
That’s all. Picked randomly
from a vast library of names

Hazel might or might not be
Representative of society
Which society, you ask
Hazel, like Edith, changes meaning

If it is misspelled. Minus an ‘h’ Edith
Becomes Edit - that would deflect
From my flight of fancy
Hazel, minus an ‘l’ is “haze”

Fog, mist, murk, in which
Things lurk. “You’re describing
The state of my head,” she said
“A headache, I have,” said she

May I retire from this state of infamy?
Stay out of my head. Begone.
I’m going to bed - alone!
“Foul beast, begone!

You wanted to get inside
my head. Happy now?
The feeling’s not mutual
Begone foul beast, begone!”

Leslie D. Bush
© 20 May 2024

13/04/2025

12 April 2025

A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

507

DON'T BE ABSURD
(I want what they've got)

Oh, the plaintive cry of distress
The tears, the need to express
We’re different. He/she has
something I want. Give it to me, now

We’re all, in our individuality, physically
And emotionally unique. It’s in and from
Our DNA. Bloody DNA! Why can’t I have blue eyes
Blonde hair and a dazzling set of teeth?

‘Taint fair. It’s not. It’s not

Accept it. It’s true. We all are different
Yet similar to the degree of having two legs
Two arms, two feet, two hands, and a highly
Evolved brain. The “ON” switch isn’t always connecting

Yes. We can change our appearance.
Takes only a lot of money
And cosmetic surgery.
The person inside will remain unchanged

If it's not looks, it’s material objects
Material wealth. He/she has more than I do!
A nice house, in a nice suburb; he/she
can go out and spend whenever they want to

Yes, they do, they can. Are they better people
For having access to that wealth? I think not
We’re all good: skilled at doing something
The lack of financial wealth provides a challenge

To find other things of value

We do what we can; to help others
To achieve collective results. What a buzz!!
Want what they’ve got? Fine. Don’t covet
“what they’ have got”. One might find it disappointing

Leslie D. Bush
© 6 January 2025

12/04/2025

2 POEMS (I missed a day)
11 April 2025
A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES
POPSICLE’S POEMSES
From
MY BOOK OF POEMSES
505
THE COMPANY OF WOMEN
The company of women is a mysterious thing;
It often just happens, not planned, not deliberate.
Be it one or many, you will know it when it happens.
A social outing, a trip somewhere; you hop in,
Take your chance. Women are curious creatures,
Defy assumptions and prescriptions of behaviour.
You may have guessed that I am a male, born of a female,
Spending my life seeking that special woman;
The romance and Love, until death do us part thing.
I am growing older, hence a touch of cynicism creeping in.
I do seek the company of women, as a collective, as individuals
It is their company, their companionship, and their conversation I seek.
My reward is a glimpse into their lives, personalities, and aspirations.
Romance, love? Another dimension altogether.
The rules are the same: respect, truth, integrity, intelligence;
Whatever the dimension, they are constants, given and non-negotiable.
This “Love” thing is a higher standard of those qualities, no surprises
(flowers maybe), “How’s your day, my dearest, yes, I’ll help around the house
(The least I can do)”. What does the company of women command, and demand?
Nothing specifically, good behaviour, and awareness of what you are doing,
And saying and its effect on its audience.
Their nonsense detectors are always switched “on”.
Whatever their age, whatever their history and experience,
they have learnt the power of silence, implicit, unspoken warnings,
All from an angelic face. Girls just wanna have fun
(Oops, was that acceptable?).
Can I say it? Is that a slight smile?
Can I, dare I?
Girls just wanna have fun.
Leslie Bush
© 9 May 2021
From Indo-New Zealand Poetic Encomium, by Dr Jernail Singh Anand and Leslie D. Bush
12 Aprl 2025
A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES
POPSICLE’S POEMSES
From
MY BOOK OF POEMSES
507
DON'T BE ABSURD
(I want what they've got)
Oh, the plaintive cry of distress
The tears, the need to express
We’re different. He/she has
something I want. Give it to me, now
We’re all, in our individuality, physically
And emotionally unique. It’s in and from
Our DNA. Bloody DNA! Why can’t I have blue eyes
Blonde hair and a dazzling set of teeth?
‘Taint fair. It’s not. It’s not
Accept it. It’s true. We are all different
Yet similar to the degree of having two legs
Two arms, two feet, two hands, and a highly
Evolved brain. The “ON” switch isn’t always connected
Yes. We can change our appearance.
Takes a lot of money
And cosmetic surgery.
The person inside will remain unchanged
If it's not looks, it’s material objects
Material wealth. He/she has more than I do!
A nice house, in a nice suburb; he/she
can go out and spend whenever they want to
Yes, they do, they can. Are they better people
For having access to that wealth? I think not
We’re all good: skilled at doing something
The lack of financial wealth provides a challenge
To find other things of value
We do what we can to help others
To achieve collective results. What a buzz!!
Want what they’ve got? Fine. Don’t covet
“what they' have got”.
One might find it disappointing
Leslie D. Bush
© 6 January 2025

11/04/2025

10 April 2025
A NEW COLLECTION
OF POEMSES
POPSICLE’S POEMSES
From
MY BOOK OF POEMSES
505
THE COMPANY OF WOMEN
The company of women is a mysterious thing;
It often just happens, not planned, not deliberate.
Be it one or many, you will know it when it happens.
A social outing, a trip somewhere; you hop in,
Take your chance. Women are curious creatures,
Defy assumptions and prescriptions of behaviour.
You may have guessed that I am a male, born of a female,
Spending my life seeking that special woman;
The romance and Love, until death do us part thing.
I am growing older, hence a touch of cynicism creeping in.
I do seek the company of women, as a collective, as individuals
It is their company, their companionship, and their conversation I seek.
My reward is a glimpse into their lives, personalities, and aspirations.
Romance, love? Another dimension altogether.
The rules are the same: respect, truth, integrity, intelligence;
Whatever the dimension, they are constants, given and non-negotiable.
This “Love” thing is a higher standard of those qualities, no surprises
(flowers maybe), “How’s your day, my dearest, yes, I’ll help around the house
(The least I can do)”. What does the company of women command, and demand?
Nothing specifically, good behaviour, and awareness of what you are doing,
And saying and its effect on its audience.
Their nonsense detectors are always switched “on”.
Whatever their age, whatever their history and experience,
they have learnt the power of silence, implicit, unspoken warnings,
All from an angelic face. Girls just wanna have fun
(Oops, was that acceptable?).
Can I say it? Is that a slight smile?
Can I, dare I?
Girls just wanna have fun.
Leslie Bush
© 9 May 2021
From Indo-New Zealand Poetic Encomium, by Dr Jernail Singh Anand and Leslie D. Bush

10/04/2025

8 April 2025

A New Collection
Of Poemses

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

504

CIVIL, CIVILISED, CIVILISATION

Positive words, aren’t they?
Words to use with pride. Yes?
Words enriched with achievement
Yes? No? Words can be abused!

The message is to use these words with care
And respect; and humility; with the modesty
Of one learning. Take the stories of empires gone
With a critical lens. Test assertions against the evidence

A civilised people, are we
One could say, representing
The collective could say
Citing anecdotal evidence

A question. Can “civilisation” be
Attached to any group claiming it
Did they earn it? Did they deserve it

How is the label, “civilised”, “Civilised”
“Civilisation” and “civilisation” earned?

Is “Civilisation” a thing to be achieved
Through diligence and hard work;
Are its lessons equally hard and ruthless?
Can a person or people get a passing grade?

Succeed or fail?

Leslie D. Bush
© 14 October 2024

09/04/2025

. #48 Email = 19-4-2024
9 April 2025

A New Collection
Of Poemses

POPSICLE’S POEMSES

From

MY BOOK OF POEMSES

503

THE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT

Words and phrases might have the illusion of spontaneity;
formed in a cauldron of questions and doubt: measured and mixed;
delayed, diluted, discarded. The ones that work return to the surface,
and impose themselves on a scattered, shattered consciousness: Chaos,

Chaos rules here, no doubt. Those carefully crafted lines
that come out in the end began as fragments: of dreams, half-answered questions,
a whisper of the legacy of those departed. Damn the "Why's";
waste of time. You have your reasons; I have mine.

Ne'er the twain shall meet, maybe. Makes no difference.
You will believe what you will believe; feel what you feel;
a matter of priorities, what makes your life "real".
Answers do not beget answers; they generate more questions.

To what degree you choose the form is debatable;
isn't in your genes, it's those voices from the experience of life,
half-remembered conversations that drive one forward.
Stasis is death; perfection is su***de.

Technique is admirable; elegant art. It's not the beginning, not where it starts.
Begins as scribbles and scrawls on the most immediately available scrap of paper.
"When the Battle is Over" was born on a serviette at the Wine Bar.
Call it creativity? It never stops; it acknowledges neither time nor space.

Carry a notebook. Carry a pen (usually helps); spill them out as you go.
Sit there, with a dazed look on your face; people might stare. Who cares?
The children of the night clamour and compete for their day in the sun.
You are the conduit through whom their tale is told; their story spun.

Leslie Bush
© 15 October 2013

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