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| Fiction: XenErotica |
| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. IV |
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| News - Newsletters | |
| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Saturday, 26 January 2008 | |
 The
Starpoet Newsletter Volume IX, No. IV Age inevitably takes us all
Friends, lovers, Parents, and fellow travellers Who slip away
Before we are ready
If ever we would be
The gods show no concern
Whether we die today Or next year after the harvest
And if we have no choice but death
When little matters
But still we miss the dead
And refuse our non-existence
In the greater scheme Of god and universe Lisa Jain Thompson C. 2008 C. E.
  John Stewart died last weekend. The world noticed more more than I would suspect. There will be a lot of john here this week.
John and I in perspective
You Can't Look Back
Then here they come, E.A. Stuart in the wagon right behind
John Stewart died the other day, Now he will be allowed to become famous,
Safely dead and unable to respond in song; Critics will now cite him for his music and lyrics, Academics will build shrines to true When all he ever wanted was a stage and a guitar And Buffy singing back-up beside him on the road. Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 Broken Roses
John Stewart All the times I've run When we've just begun We lost the midnight sun In the dream And all the times I cried
All the times I tried To make a lame bird fly In the sun If all the lights break through
Shades of afternoon All the dreams were you Every one So I ride the tired road
Every story I have told Is just all as it seems Broken roses, weathered dreams reading Tennyson
Firefly
The firefly sleeps far beneath winter's worst,
Safely chambered in beds of warmer earth, Waiting for early summer to fleetingly emerge To light the evening with impetuous amour. Then, after love is spent and eggs quickly laid, The light flickers, stutters to leisurely eclipse
As summer drags itself to autumnal richness With thunderstorm and bright jagged lightning. In childhood a jar of fireflies carefully placed
Conjures glimpses of miracle and alchemy Far better than a thousand Sunday sermons Or the promises of any prophet or professor. Here, at the quiet limit of a world grown safely gray,
With the fields that have turned white and hard frozen, I would trade these careful fires for a single visitation Of childhood's magic fireflies and shimmering summer. Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 New Orleans
John Stewart
I never got to see New Orleans
Ride the river to the sea Hear the muse of Louisiana Sing her heart to me Fats and Louis and Dixieland She is the river, she is the land But I never got to see New Orleans Or hold her in my hand bouncing off Tennyson and Jeffers
Jasmine Green Along the margins
Where sea and sand meet granite rock And raptors next atop unclimbed peaks, The poet snatches her pieces and bits To construct her alien gaze. A taste of stars at the galactic core
Where beats a black hole's heart, A world where night shines bright With sun filled spiral Painted half across the sky. The glimpse of savanna, stumbling upright,
As Lucy begins our slow ascent, The flash of love, pheromone struck, Driven by flesh and desire, Mammal to ape to mankind. Wings spread, the poet circles
Above the waters, beneath the heavens, Following the river, Ancient mountain to deepest ocean, Until she finds her soul and home again. Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 Naked Angel on a Star-Crossed Train
John Stewart An angel brings the rain
When she feels like crying An angel brings the pain When she feels like dying And an angel brings the songs I can feel 'em coming on I cry out her name I cry out, "Delilah" Naked angel on a star-crossed train
Riding the bright light homeward Naked angel on a star-crossed train With a guitar man and an Angel Band Sending me songs and here's one An angel is the muse
And the musing brings the spirit I can not refuse If she sings you know I'll hear it An angel brings the songs I can feel 'em coming on I cry out her name I cry out, "Delilah" attempt at interlude
Alternity
In some alternate reality,
Where polio was cured before I was born,
I'm some famous former athlete or mythic dark agent Best known for the bits and snatches of poeetry Left lying around after I've gone. Elvis has still left the building,
But Buddy is working on his seventh symphony,
And James Dean plays the grandfather on a sitcom
With Britney as his oldest grandchild. Oprah, on the other hand, made a lousy president
And Scorcese is directing Terminator 12 For video on demand on cable.
Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 lying awake with politics
Choice of Ballot
I do not want a messianic president
Or even one who is pure of heart; Give me a leader who when bought Stays bought and knows where all The skeletons are closeted; One whose finger might just pull the trigger,
Should it become necessary to do so, Whose soul is more than a little larcenous Should deception be the best solution overall For our nation to survive and our democracy. Sometimes you need a Nixon
If you wish to go to mainland Sometimes only a Lyndon Johnson Can finally pass a Civil Rights Bill Over the objections of I would rather not have a president
Who thinks the world plays fair and square, And expects all other nations To be cooperative, contrite Christians Who accept The Constitution as self-evident: Rather a crook who knows the hearts of men,
The strategic value of a well placed kick, And the efficacy of a goodly positioned bribe To better bring cooperation, quickly and completely, From those who might otherwise be our enemy. Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 Lost Her in the Sun
John Stewart Given any day there's a jet flying somewhere
Oh, she bought a ticket and she vanished in the sky How was I to know she was leaving in the morning I never heard her go, she never said goodbye I've learned to love the night 'cause the light's gonna get ya Right between the eyes in the morning like a gun Reaching out your hand and she's not there beside you Oh, what can I say, lost her in the sun What have I done? Lost her in the sun Lost her in the sun structure, control, demonstration
In the Cool of the Evening Light
The past is barely beyond our reach,
Its decaying body sweetly scents the present; Yet we can no more taste its fruits Than we can be held in our mother's arms, However fondly we may remember. Our essential flesh and biography
Remains trapped in the current, Flushed by time's arrow into the sunrise
That separates morning from afternoon And night's eventual victory. Death punctuates our comfort zone,
Drives our evolving existence Into evermore complex explanations To belay the inevitable impossibility That coils tightly around our necks. We are, undeniably, aware
We live in the present and that we will In some undefined, unimaginable future, die, Stripped from this disordering time flow That moves us through life and universe. Tomorrow remains an undiscovered mystery
Undeliverable by either mind or belief, The best, the brightest, all to the same end come As the homeless beggar and wasting, auto-deficient child: Life leaves us all, time goes on, and no one is sure but dying. Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008 July, You're a Woman
John Stewart
And I can't hold my eyes
On the white line out before me When your hand is on my collar And you're talking in my ear And I have been around With a gypsy girl named Shannon A daughter of the devil It is strange that I should mention that to you I haven't thought of her in years La da da da da da
La da da da da da July, you're a woman More than anyone I've ever known for John and Buffy
Airdream Believer
John Stewart
Airdream believer,
Come and gone, We've lost him in the sun, Taken by his heart And the passage of years. The
To the glare of morning,
No more battles call him,
His voice is silent,
The last campaign is done.
No more daydreams,
No more warm July evenings
In the
Watching Neil Armstrong Walk upon the moon.
The big horse has run
His final funky race,
He has breathed his last, His heart has taken flight, Saddled on the chilly wind.
Lisa Jain Thompson
January 2008   Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson1995-2008. 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 ( Sunday, 27 January 2008 ) | |
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