| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. VI |
|
|
|
| News - Newsletters | |
| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Sunday, 10 February 2008 | |
 The
Starpoet Newsletter Volume IX, No. VI While we patiently wait for the daffodil
To thrust itself
into the gray winter chill We busy ourselves
with songs and philosophy And long afternoons
In love's moist soft charms
Lisa Jain Thompson C. 2008 C. E.
  poems, more poems, listening to election results, american idol, and speeches
did I mention migraines?
Tripping with the Muse
Please Vicodin, my friend,
Ease the pain inside my head, Let my eyes focus once again, Make my migraine come to an end. For I have poems to write before I forget,
Stories and columns I need to set Before all the words escape from me And I have no more to give. Vicodin, no pain, no brain,
Rolling my sweet muse’s arms. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 winter weather
The High Sierra Snow
Amtrack caught in
Some things don’t change – A day of food left on the train, the passengers, Knowing history, vote to leave On a Greyhound providing a transit alternative
Unavailable to the westering Donners, With snack packs provided by the company Rather than choosing from among the selections Pre-existing in the snow bound wagons. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 When we throw the switches, how long before the ship blows?
-- Sigourney Weaver Alien the contention
Taking Sides
This side of the divide,
Sex is more comforting, Less sharply focused, More mind disrupting, Slower to build,
Longer lingering
After the initial explosion.
Better, if I had to chose,
And I guess I did. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 There is a theory which states that if ever for any reason anyone discovers
what exactly the Universe is for and why it is here it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another that states that this has already happened. -- Douglas Adams last weekend
White Chapel Blues
Psychokiller posing as a western shootist
Traveling town to town hoping for a fight, Messianic politician presenting god’s words, Looking for away to trigger Armageddon. Both cloak themselves in moral propriety,
Waiting for the moment to properly act,
Delusional villains, coiled, silent and hidden, Until the intended targets can be bushwhacked. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 music
First and Always
The rumble of guitar ripples through the background,
Base runs beneath treble strum, Breaking the comfortable silence of the night Thoughts drift back to decades past, A body young in lust. The fire of pheromones rushing through veins,
The electric first touch, the explosion of a kiss, The exploration of hands and fingers, The electricity of moist tongue and soft lips
Stuck deep in aging memory evermore.
Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 All the evidence shows that God was actually quite a gambler,
and the universe is a great casino, where dice are thrown, and roulette wheels spin on every occasion. -- Stephen Hawking wind leaking in
Candlewind
A wind slips through the house, Claims seventy-two degrees. Despite the fans In the The game is better on TV, Warmer, even with the wind. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 the war goes on
For War
Some people died
We got laid The story of war
Everywhere Medals and speeches
Bodies and blood Names without faces Only families Children forgotten
Cities rubbled Glorious leaders Declaring victory Mem’ry fades slowly
Pain lingers Emptiness unfilled By national necessity Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 We are just an advanced breed of monkeys
on a minor planet of a very average star. But we can understand the Universe. That makes us something very special. --Stephen Hawking and on
Fire Base
Nineteen years old and they’re gone,
Mothers, fathers, bodies intact, Souls ripped and torn within them, Minds caught fast by the battle, Only their shadows remain. Of all these friends and lovers,
Some are dead, some only missing, Those who walk among us, Caught up in a war they never left, Are just as honorable as those buried heroes. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 alas reality
The View from the Teenage Male
Jessica Jessica
Jessica Jessica Jessica Jessica Jessica Jessica Alba
Jessica Alba Jessica Alba Jessica Want to make something of it?
Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008  poet stuff
Heart and Lungs
My lungs are filled with starstuff,
My eyes, blinded by swirling galaxies, Sunset finds me between distant planets, Trailing bright tracks through the cosmos. Ashes to ashes, word to word,
Poet, writer, musician, parent, Wife to wife, lover to lover, Ragged peaks and flashing glory. I burn and still I burn.
Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.
-- Carl Sagan grasping it
Invention
If I were a Leonardo,
I would design fine machines To span the empty spaces Between the earth and the stars that shine Just out of reach in the heavens. But I am not an engineer
Or a quantum astrophysicist And must make do with the tools at hand
To capture the worlds beyond our grasp, A poet’s humble imagination. My words and rhythms must suffice
To describe the planets we’ve yet to walk, The peoples who will travel there, Man and human, children of the universe, White, black, green and otherwise. All men are created equal,
Even those born on distant worlds; Life, friendship, love and death Will be our common denominator, Unifying us in our shared humanity. I would that poet be
Who sings of dark, long haired women Walking craggy peaks beneath aging red suns, Waiting for lovers who will never return, Long dead in some future past. To this end I build great ships,
Gold and silver and sleek, To cross both galaxy and time’s firm hold, Riding on this oh so fragile verse, A poet’s lasting attempt. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008   Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2008. Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized. Email your letters and postcards or visit her contact page at the Starpoet website. |
|
| Last Updated ( Sunday, 10 February 2008 ) | |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|