Poetry

[Parodite]

5. Pesach 2026

The barter looked at what had grown,
At settled lands, at seeds now sown.
At voices shaped, at deals well made—
And all the price that still was paid.

He missed the sand beneath his feet,
The burning sun, the hunger’s beat.
No walls, no claim, no final say—
Just dust… and dreams along the way.

A promised land that stayed ahead,
A mirage where the spirit fed.
Not owned, not fixed, not fully won—
Becoming more than being done.

For once you land and call it true,
The deal is closed… the voice is through.
But in between—where old things die—
New worlds are born beneath the sky.

So let me wander, not arrive,
Where doubt and hope are both alive.
For in that space, both lost and found—
The truest deals… are never bound.

[Nonc Hilaire]

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[NapLajoieOnSteroids]

The World State by G. K. Chesterton

Oh, how I love Humanity,
With love so pure and pringlish,
And how I hate the horrid French,
Who never will be English!

The International Idea,
The largest and the clearest,
Is welding all the nations now,
Except the one that’s nearest.

This compromise has long been known,
This scheme of partial pardons,
In ethical societies
And small suburban gardens—

The villas and the chapels where
I learned with little labour
The way to love my fellow-man
And hate my next-door neighbour.