https://apcsweb.wordpress.com/2016/06/27/disgust-and-contempt-in-the-white-house-susan-b-miller-ph-d/

“It hasn’t escaped notice that Donald Trump is easily disgusted, Not as much has been made of Trump’s inclination to contempt, a related but distinct emotion.  Donald Trump liberally uses both the sneer of contempt and the psychic heave of disgust to define his place in the world.

When Mr. Trump calls an opponent “loser,” “basket case,” “moron,” “clown,” “third-rate,” “dope,” “pathetic,” or “desperate” (NYT, March 4, 2016) while at the same time portraying himself as a hugely loved and successful winner, he is talking contempt, not disgust.  When he refers to another as “grubby” (NYT March 4, 2016) or he talks of the awfulness of imagining his female adversaries’ body functions, he is expressing disgust, which he communicates with his face as well as his words.  Can  psychological insights about the nature of these emotions allow us to elaborate on why a person might be so quick to feel and express them and how they might serve the person’s psychological balance and influence his leadership behavior?”

https://www.publishersweekly.com/pw/by-topic/authors/pw-select/article/78384-from-self-published-to-mainstream-an-indie-success-story.html

No longer human,nor  two gendered flesh
Just numbers in equations’ tight knit net
But when did numbers eat, make love or dress?

In friendship or in love we tightly mesh
But  this cracks open for the dealers’ bet
No longer human,nor  two gendered flesh

Now we can fulfill    erotic wish
Without the need , the  other in our pit
But when did plastic eat ,befriend or dress?

Turn the current off and what a mess
For nothing now remains of holy writ
Nor human beings ,nor  two gendered flesh

See  vibrators  cancel   love’s access
Then two hearts can scarcely ever knit
But when did dildos eat, make love or bless?

As in mindfulness we senseless sit
The soul is ravaged in  the wild bear pit
No longer human,nor  two gendered flesh
But when did numbered  labour pray, confess?

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69592/poems-for-peace

Extract:

And how to overcome—in ourselves, in the poetry world, and in all the wider communities in which we situate ourselves—our own resistances to an engaged poetry that stakes specific claims about the world, a poetry that could be partisan and provocative and even utopian? After all, many of us feel as John Keats did, despite his friendship with the partisan poet Leigh Hunt: “We hate poetry that has a palpable design upon us—and if we do not agree, seems to put its hand in its breeches pocket. Poetry should be great & unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one’s soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself but with its subject.”

And if the poetry that presses “palpable design upon us” were not challenge enough, then what to do about poetry that proposes something about peace, the very word of which veers into a kind of New Age ganja haze and evades the pungency of real life; or, to let Keats muse on the subject, “for axioms in philosophy are not axioms until they are proved upon our pulses.”

The nearer  peace,more savage are the acts
Abhorrent to the atheist in us all.
History, undigested ,splits and cracks

As we whites  did evil to the black
With little difference, hate  for glory calls.
The nearer  peace, the more savage the acts

All of us can  disremember facts
Israeli hands  have gripped and then appalled.
History, undigested ,splits and cracks

As ,with Bomber Harris, Dresden packed
Burned  like grass the refugees to ghouls
The nearer  peace, the more savage the acts

We deny the  healing  we have lacked
For Jesus' Jews we let be killed ,de-souled
History, undigested ,splits and sticks

Palestine’s own Arabs are  ill ruled
And in return,  explode  like stubborn mules
The nearer love, the more  the  hatred whacks
History., inconceivable,   directs