| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. VIII, No. LII |
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| News - Newsletters | |
| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Saturday, 22 December 2007 | |
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The
Starpoet
Newsletter
Vol. VIII, No. LII
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ If ever I should fail
To tell you I love you Kiss me
And you will know I am yours
As long as my breath
Lets me speak
Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2007 C.E.
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^^\/\/\/\/^^  Bethlehem
In darkest winter love conquers all
with a song of joy -- Lisa and Sharon
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ on the eve of the winter holidays, the fifty second issue this year and one to go
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ In the spirit of the season, more or less
A Christmas Tale
The tinselled garland,
Green and yellow gold,
Frames the window where the sun sets;
The five foot tree,
Draped in crystal cranberry rope, Sits in the corner,
Bright reds and evergreen; Shiny white lights
And velvet hung santas
Compete with soft muppet ornaments
And carousel horses
While the branches defy gravity
And refuse to bend.
Beneath the last strand
Of glass and crystal, The wrapped and ribbonned presents Lay scattered around the floor, Waiting for the sound of reindeer
Clattering on the roof
And Santa's Christmas laughter
Echoing through the heating duct:
Good tidings to all
And to all a good night, May peace fill your mornings And love keep you always. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays
As Allah wills.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ winter stuff
The Night Manager
Lurking here
Between Solstice and Christmas,
There is a strange lack of urgency
Overrunning my languid body.
The holiday waits,
Filled with presents,
Memories and depression.
With family a joyous affair,
Stuffed full with tradition,
Fine food, and family arguments.
Alone, the blackest day of all,
Surpassing sitting home on New Years Eve
And even not having A date to take you to the prom. Alone, a bottle of whiskey
And a frozen pizza
Can be a single girl's best friend, Distracting her from the pills
That sit waiting on her bedstand
Should the darkness descend again.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ Christmas was not among the earliest festivals of the Church. Irenaeus and Tertullian omit it from their lists of feasts; Origen, glancing perhaps at the discreditable imperial Natalitia, asserts (in Lev. Hom. viii in Migne, P.G., XII, 495) that in the Scriptures sinners alone, not saints, celebrate their birthday; Arnobius (VII, 32 in P.L., V, 1264) can still ridicule the "birthdays" of the gods.
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ Oldest U.S. WWI vet dies at 109
J. Russell Coffey, the oldest known surviving U.S. veteran of World War I, has died.
The retired teacher, one of only three U.S. veterans from the "war to end all wars," was 109.
Over There, Over There
Send the word, send the word, Over There That the Yanks are coming, The Yanks are coming, The drums rum tumming everywhere So prepare, Say a Prayer Send the word, Send the word to beware We'll be over, we're coming over. And we won't be back till it's over over there! -- George M. Cohen
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ more on the which of the what I do
A Poet's Story
I take upon my soul
The pain of the earth,
The dying children,
The aging ones without memory,
The men who are less than men,
The women who will never be.
They lurk between my words,
Peek out from within my lines,
Shed tears when a child dies,
Smile joyously at a newborn.
It is not enough to be a poet
But it is my gift
To give back to the world.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^  __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ in the days of yore
ADULT CONTENT
It Came Upon A Solstice Clear
By Lisa Jain Thompson © December 1998, Revised 2007 And it came to pass that during the solstice festival, before the Saturnalia had reached its height of gaudy depravity, that a Warrior Princess and her companion, an Amazon Bard of not some literary skill, came into the city on the shores of the Aegean called Mytilini, on Nisos Lesvos. What passed for a mountain, Ayios Ilias, was barely tall enough to be peaked with snow, but Gabrielle shivered at the very distinct possibility that Xena might have it in her head to climb to the top. The city, even in the early stages of the annual festival, was filled with tourists, making it unlikely that the two women would be able to find a room and hot bath for the night. Still they approached the Wild Boar Inn, entered, and chose a table -- at least they had a place to sit down and have a warm dinner, more importantly a dinner made by someone else and, Gabrielle thought, I won't have to do the dishes while Xena pretends to be sharpening her sword again.
A middle age woman approached them, smiled, and then spoke:
"Hi, my name is Messalina, I'm going to serve you tonight."
Xena glared at the woman and then whispered to the bard, "Why is she so furking friendly? What's her problem, anyway? You don't think she is another poet girl groupie, do you? I don't have to fight her off, do I? I'm really getting tired of your fans, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle, smiled, "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Xena. She's paid to be friendly. I think it will become quite popular in the future. Don't you like it?"
"No," Xena scowled, I'd rather skewer her than listen to her." Gabrielle turned back to Messalina. "May we have a menu?"
"No need, Ma'am, I've got it memorized. Let me start at the top. We have appetizers, main courses, salads, and deserts, along with an assortment of ..."
Xena cut her off impatiently. "I don't think we have time for the whole list. What would you recommend, Messalina?"
Messalina smiled wider and continued enthusiastically, "The special of the day is fresh Portabella Mushrooms, sauteed in virgin olive oil from our own groves with garlic sprouts and sprinkled with fresh goat cheese from our herds on Ayios Ilias."
Shaking her head, the Warrior Princess muttered "No mushrooms, Messalina, I've heard rumors that they are unsafe," then flicked her raven hair back out of her face.
"I've chosen these mushrooms myself, Ma'am, hand picked them. I assure you they are safe. But if you would prefer something else, may I recommend the petite calamari, breaded and deep fried, and served on a bed of whole grained wheat which has been molded into gossamer strands, then bathed in hot springs until tender and coated with a secret sauce imported especially for our use."
Gabrielle turned to the Warrior Princess "What's a calamari, Xena?"
"Some kind of fish I think. Not sure." Xena turned back to Messalina. "What else do you have?"
Frowning, Messalina mumbled. "Falafel" "What?" It was Gabrielle's turn to stare.
"Falafel," louder, "We have falafel. Fried, baked, ground, and molded. We have falafel."
Disgusted, Xena snarled. "Bring us some bread, Messalina, and some cheese. A pitcher of ale for the two of us. And a key to a room."
"We don't have a r..."
"A room," firmly, "and a hot tub for a bath. You have problems with that?" Xena placed her chakram on the table. "No Ma'am. No problem at all Bread, Cheese, Ale, a room and a bath. Coming right up."
"And quit calling me Ma'am. Do I look like a Ma'am to you?"
"No Mistress."
As Gabrielle dissolved into helpless giggles, Xena shouted "I'm not anyone's Mistress!"
Gasping for air, Gabrielle whispered "You don't think all the leather you wear has anything to do with it do you, Xena? I mean ..."
Xena's eyes narrowed and Gabrielle, having all she could do to keep from laughing even louder, stared intently at the table until the food came.
*****
Gabrielle followed Xena into the dingy room. The bed, if it could be called a bed, filled most of the floor and the air was filled with a smell that could only be described as old manger. Bits of hay could still be seen in the ill-swept corners.
"The next time you demand a room, Xena, perhaps you should be a little more specific on our expectations."
"The bath was hot. They got that right at least."
"The bath water was brown, Xena, or did you think all that dirt came off me?"
"No worse than any of the lakes we have bathed in and you never seemed to mind the fish swimming between your legs."
"You and I both know that wasn't a fish, Xena."
"And that wasn't a bar of soap tonight, either was it?."
"I was hunting for the soap."
"Using only one or two fingers?"
Gabrielle flushed, stammered, and, changing the subject, pointed at the dilapidated bed. "Are we really going to sleep in that?"
The corner of Xena's mouth turned up in smile. "Would you prefer having the floor at your back, Gabrielle?"
"I, ah..."
"I didn't think so." The Warrior Princess broke briefly into a full smile before catching herself and growing more serious. "Did you get what I told you to get from the market this morning?"
"I think so, but I got an awfully lot of strange looks. They kept trying to sell me small cooking brushes and I kept having to repeat myself. 'No, a turkey baster! It's sort of long with a small opening at one end and ball at the other.' I don't want to tell you what they ALL wanted to show me then --- I never realized how many different shapes they came in!"
"Did you get the turkey baster, Gabrielle?"
"Yes. Finally." Gabrielle reached into her bag, withdrew the turkey baster, and handed it to Xena. "What do you want it for anyway, Xena?"
Using the examination of the baster as an excuse, Xena took her time before answering. "You know that I have had visions of our crucifixion."
"You know I do, Xena, and you know that I have laid awake listening to your nightmares."
"And you know that I have wanted to atone for my past, Gabrielle. At first I thought I might take the suffering of the world on my shoulders -- all the pain and all the heartbreak -- and, in doing that, I thought I might be able to free myself from the darkness inside me." "I know that."
"But now I think I may have gotten it wrong. I may not be the one who ultimately frees the world from darkness. I may only be the one who gives birth to him."
"But ... You aren't .... Xena! I mean you haven't been with a man for years, at least not that you've told me." A worried look crossed Gabrielle's face.
"No, I'm not with child. Not yet. And I don't intend to be with a man."
"Then how ....?"
"That's where the turkey baster comes in, Gabrielle."
Gabrielle looked puzzled, suddenly silent and not a little confused.
"I've talked to Ares ..."
"He's not going to be the father, is he? I won't stand for that." "Calm down, babe. He's not going to be the father. I told him what my plan was and he agreed to help, however, to make sure that the darkness does not swallow the world and take Olympus with it."
"And ...?"
"As far as the world will know, the child will be ours, Gabrielle. Aries has delivered me a portion of Marcus's life force. I have it here in my gear." Xena turned to her bags and withdrew a small vial. "I should be fertile for the next few days and what I want you to do is to draw Marcus's life force into the turkey baster when I tell you."
A look of disbelief passed over Gabrielle's face. "You mean you want me to ... You're going to take .... " Gabrielle shook her head. "Won't that hurt?"
"Not if you give me the proper attention before hand. As long as we take our time --- and I know you like to take my time --- and you do what needs to be done ..."
"You mean you want me to make you wet. Thought I did that anyway."
"You do, darlin', but I need to be really wet before I can take Marcus's life force within me."
"If you had told me, Xena, I could have found a smaller baster."
Xena smiled. "This one will be fine. I'm not exactly a virgin, you know, I'm just out of practice."
"Don't remind me. Your name is still scratched on trees all around the Mediterranean."
"My reputation is more exciting than my actual life, Gabrielle. You know that. Anyway, after you have made me properly wet -- perhaps after an orgasm or two on both of our parts -- I will want you to take Marcus's life force into the baster and then I want you to slip the baster into me as far as I can take it."
"And then ...?"
"I want you to squeeze the ball and fill me with the life force."
"I don't know if I want to do this, Xena."
"Look at the bright side," Xena laughed, "You're always complaining that you want to be the top for the change ..."
"And this time I get to be one so that you don't lose any life force."
"You got it, Babe, I'm going to be on my back the rest of the night."
"Perhaps I should tie you down to make sure, Xena. That would ensure you didn't forget and it certainly would be different for a change." Gabrielle smiled evilly. And perhaps once I got you properly secured in position, I could find an artist who will be willing to sketch a portrait of the Warrior Princess for posterity."
Xena stared nervously at her companion, unable to determine how serious she might be.
"Don't worry, I wouldn't do anything that would harm your precious public person, darling. I need the Warrior Princess as much as you do. Now take off your chemise and let's get started, shall we? We have a long night ahead."
As Xena removed her chemise, Gabrielle approached her from behind and began to kiss the Warrior Princess's neck. Tasting Xena's sweetness, the poet gently bit into the soft flesh where the neck meets the shoulders' slope and her hand slipped over Xena's taut belly as her fingers touched the warm wet flesh that lay beneath.
*****
And so it was, that, when the days were accomplished that the Warrior Princess should be delivered, she brought forth her daughter, wrapped her in swaddling clothes, and handed her to Gabrielle, who held their infant in her arms until more wood was needed for the campfire.
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^^\/\/\/\/^^  __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ the weather report
Winter Watch
There is snow flying
From Oklahoma to New York City,
North and above us,
If you are watching on TV.
Here, unless god grows angry,
A mix or rain and perhaps some sleet,
But too warm by early morning
To cause a problem on the streets.
We have all turned on our fans,
Blowing the air north
To discourage any storm drift
Down south of Maryland.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ The first recorded use of the word "Christmas" was in 1038 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ caroling
Jingle Ding Ding
No snow, no sleigh rides,
No large family gatherings,
No Ave Maria by Perry.
Just the addled playback
Of Grandma and her reindeer
While we drink our holiday sodas
And debit our Christmas cheer. Me? I'll be watching A Christmas Story,
Trying not to shoot my eye out. Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ more caroling
Take 3
Those three queens
From San Francisco
Are dressed so sparkley,
The stars of the show. Queens of wonder,
Queens so bright,
Queens in make-up
Under hot lights,
Always vamping, ever flaming, Confusing the boys in the back.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ Natalis Solis Invicti
Birthday of the Unconquerable Sun And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
And God saw the light, and it was good. __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^  __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ a last holiday poem for my darling
The Best Present
Waking on Christmas morning,
I have been alone
And would not choose to be so.
I wake now beside my darling,
Who holds me tight and warm,
Never will I wake again
To watch Christmas sunrise alone.
Lisa Jain Thompson
December 2007
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^^\/\/\/\/^^  __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ PEACE
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^^\/\/\/\/^^ Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2007. Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized. Email your letters and postcards or visit her contact page at the Starpoet website. |
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| Last Updated ( Saturday, 22 December 2007 ) | |
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