| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. VII |
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| News - Newsletters | |
| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Sunday, 17 February 2008 | |
 The
Starpoet Newsletter Volume IX, No. VII For each unharmful gentle soul
Who floats downstream Carried by the long river's flow I forge my skills with passionate fire
To light the endless night
And ease their way Down to the waiting sea And eternity Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2008 C. E.
 Primates Do It Face To Face
 To everything there is a season -- I just wish it would make up its mind and stick to one or the other
A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher
fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what's left of your unit. PS magazine August 1993 democracy and all that jazz
One Cheer Shy of Fervor
People say I am ruthless. I am not ruthless. Our time has come, our movement is real, Change is coming to Than a collection of red and blue states; We are The United States of And always will be. Not this time, Not this year,
This time can be different: this time We will seize the moment, this fall We have a real choice between change And more of the same, Between looking forward and looking back,
Between our future and our past We can do this, this generation, We are the ones we have been waiting for, The change that we seek. Few have the greatness to bend history,
But each one of us can change A small portion of events, shaping the future By our actions and our willingness To commit our minds and bodies. Where some may see only challenges,
We see only a future filled with opportunity: We may fail but we will fail greatly, And together we will write The history of this generation. sometimes you just want to believe
Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 If you aren't living on the edge, you're taking up too much room.
too many
Way the Hell Out in the Middle of Nowhere
Oxycodone, hydrocodone,
Diazepam and temazepam, Alprazolam and doxylamine: OxyContin and generic opiate, Valium, Restoril, Xanax, and Unisom. Weapons in a battle with insomnia,
Medication to sleep, but not to dream, Dueling prescriptions waging war Inside an exhausted mind and body, Working all too well, sweet prince. One chance, that’s all we’ve got,
One fucking chance is all: The wrong place, the wrong time, And you can’t fix it, you can’t ride it out. Let him be. Heath Andrew Ledger Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 Two Rules of Success:
1) Don't tell everything you know.
into the never never
In The Box
Of pirate ships, from Hook to Jack,
And fantastical flights to distant lands, Passing the third star closely on the left, Leaving Spock and Kirk to their battles, While we pursue sandworms with the other lost children. Down the wormhole (once rabbit inhabited), Serenaded by crock and clock, We run lickery splittery, by hook and imagination, Down towards the stars and sea’s end. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 Too often we lose sight of life's simple pleasures.
Remember, when someone annoys you, it takes 42 muscles to frown but it only takes 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitch-slap the mother f*cker in the head. classically formulaic
Hypatia
Love, like spring,
Can come and go quickly, Slipping in and back out Before one really notices Or finds time to focus. Love
Demands your attention, Unlike spring’s bright ritual, And, once let past, May not ever return. Lisa Jain Thompson Remember, when life throws you lemons...
genetically re-engineer the lemon tree to eliminate taste compatability issues, using the profits to increase personal gain and eventually dominate the citrus market. eyewitness
Male Noir
Bogey, so sure of himself and masculine,
The treat of rough sex just below the surface, Pulling in the men while seducing the women As he searches for some McGuffic falcon; A spade of a different color Than politically correct detectives, Male without apologies Or pseudo macho posing, Without need to justify his existence, Or drape himself in gender theory explanation: A man, just a man, which is more than enough. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition.
you can't win them all
The Calm Black Humor Before The Storm
I have buried Ike and JFK,
Lyndon Johnson, Richard Milhous Nixon, And the Honorable Gerald R. Ford; I have buried Ronald Reagan, Gone but still remembered. But Jimmy Carter is hanging around As is the elder Bush; William Clinton won’t move off stage And W can’t leave quick enough; Somewhere in there Truman left, And Hoover, if I remember correct; I can hardly wait to see who’s next To join, add, and subtract from The presidential death watch list. Lisa Jain Thompson I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said,
"I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well." -- Emo Philips
this isn't rocket science -- see the gorillas up above
Mammalia
There is no we
In I’m pregnant, Life is not that fair; The difference is real,
Boys and girls, Despite our best intentions -- Democratic philosophy
And academic theories Cannot undo genetics -- We are not some alien
Unisexual species Free of evolution’s binary: We are very well stuck
With what we’ve got, Top to bottom sexuality. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 Based on what you know about him in history books,
what do you think Abraham Lincoln would be doing if he were alive today? Writing his memoirs of the Civil War.
Advising the President. Desperately clawing at the inside of his coffin. -- David Letterman
pulling it all together
A Scattering Tempest
We were two parallel lines
Traveling bumpily along Until we managed to cross, Uncrossed stars who shone In our separate universes, Seemingly forever destined
Never to touch or meet Until, ashes to ashes, We returned to starstuff Adrift in endless orbit. If life were a tragedy,
We’d meet in passing, Fall in deeply in love Only to find ourselves Independent variables With lives so divergent
We could not make permanent Our brief intersection No matter how meticulously We attempted to normalize What passed for existence,
Resolving ourselves evermore As desolate singularities Writ large with loss and tears And permanent disengagement. If life were romantic comedy,
We would meet cute, You would bumble into me, I would say something witty Over warm Danish and coffee. A whirlwind would follow,
Smiles and laughter, Sex and argument, As we twisted impetuously Under the poet’s wit, Performing the parts
Written large for us by society And the evolutionary demands Of a primate neurobiology Laid down by chance and DNA. Romantic comedy is young,
Alas we are not; Tragedy is forever And we hold this stage For only the briefest moment more, Still in our firm possession
Of the best constructed bodies, With minds still fully bright, That our parents could provide And mortality’s slow descent allows. Our lines, once disunited,
Now, by our wills, lie superimposed Until time and space grow close, Our breath slows, our lips meet, And we embrace the final call of eternity. Lisa Jain Thompson
February 2008 There will always be survivors.
-- Robert Heinlen    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. |
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