| Starpoet Newsletter Vol. VII, No. XXXV |
|
|
|
| Newsletters | |
| Written by Lisa Jain Thompson | |
| Sunday, 27 August 2006 | |
|
The
Starpoet Newsletter Vol VII, No. XXXV tornadoes
hurricanes the threat of earthquake war and famine death and eternal darkness
all these are possibilities
but you are my reality
and I go on knowing that you
are beside me Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2006
__/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ August gone for the most part, summer still here stifling our breath. Our labors have only just begun.
__/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ starpoet stuff
To Sail Into The Sunset
This planet,
This precious blue isle, This singular rose In a system of thorns and ice, Withstands the onslaught Of ape and their gods,
A beacon on the star-flecked sea. The solar wind drifts ever outward,
Carrying Voyager and Pioneer To their destinies; The second nearest sun Lies just beyond our reach, Our brains and too human flesh Anchoring us to our birthplace. This moment,
This chance and cast of dice, Can bring all our frail empires to destructive ruin, Or rise us above our base savanna heritage To set sail into the sunset And the bright promise of the starflung heavens. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ repetitive observations
Civil Rites
We who are dark in our various shades
-- anything less than true Saxon white --
Seldom protest if we are mistaken
And slip inside the picket fence. Our membership, tenuous at best,
Has been known to be revoked When northern rednecks and southern skinheads -- out of work and underschooled --
Decide their brown brothers and their tan sexy sisters
Have taken their jobs and stolen their beer.
Then we revert to Hebes and Wops, Spics and Chinks
And join the blacks at the back of the bus
While the government promises us things will change
If we only would give them a chance. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ You can take your diploma, walk off this stage,
leave this city, and go chasing after the big house and the large salary and the nice suits and all the other things that our money culture says you should buy. You can live in neighborhoods with people who are exactly like yourself,
and send your kids to the same schools,
and narrow your concerns to what's going in your own little circle.
And when you turn on the TV
or open the newspaper and hear about all the trouble in the world,
there will be pundits and politicians who'll tell you
that it's someone else's fault
and someone else's problem to fix.
They'll tell you that the Americans
who sleep in the streets and beg for food
got there because they're all lazy or weak of spirit.
That the immigrants
who risk their lives to cross a desert
have nothing to contribute to this country
and no desire to embrace our ideals.
That the inner-city children
who are trapped in dilapidated schools
can't learn and won't learn
and so we should just give up on them entirely.
That the innocent people being slaughtered
and expelled from their homes in Darfur
are somebody else's problem to take care of.
And when you hear all this,
the easiest thing in the world
will be to do nothing at all.
To turn off the TV, put down the paper,
and walk away from the stories about Iraq
or poverty
or violence
or joblessness
or hopelessness.
To go about your busy lives
- to remain detached;
to remain indifferent;
to remain safe.
-- Barak Obama
Xavier University Commencement 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ the way of science
Into the Bung-Hole Once More
Alas poor Pluto,
We thought we knew thee well, A planet of eccentric orbit, A most excellent world Twice mooned with fullness. Seven decades plus Since Tombaugh found thee, A shifting light on a photographic plate;
Yet now, how abhorred your presence, Your identity stripped, left hanging In obscure footnote and definition. There shone an orb I knew as planet, Where be your majesty now? Your perturbations led us outward To the edge of cold stellar spaces;
We embraced your drift twice past
Neptune’s massive circle, And grew merry at your changing ordinal. Now all is naught, Mocked by astronomical fiat, Your noble birthright post-aborted By method and inclination, Falling star stuff to earth dust Into history’s deep bung-hole.
Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ If you remember all of this
- if you remember what happened here in New Orleans - if you allow it to change you forever
- know that there is another path you can take.
This one is more difficult.
It asks more of you.
It asks you to leave here and not just pursue
your own individual dreams, but to help perfect our collective dream as a nation.
It asks you to realize there is more to life
than being rich, thin, young, famous, safe, and entertained.
It asks you to recognize that there are people out there
who need you. You know, there's a lot of talk in this country about the federal deficit.
But I think we should talk more about our empathy deficit
- the ability to put ourselves in someone else's shoes;
to see the world through the eyes of those
who are different from us
- the child who's hungry,
the steelworker who's been laid-off,
the family who lost the entire life they built together
when the storm came to town.
When you think like this
- when you choose to broaden your ambit of concern
and empathize with the plight of others,
whether they are close friends or distant strangers
- it becomes harder not to act;
harder not to help.
-- Barak Obama
Xavier University Commencement 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ dylan as a young rebellous woman
On Our Backs Again
Started out on Harlequin
But moved to the harder stuff, Ripping bodices and sweaty muscles Gave way to naked lust; Twisting bodies and broken breathing
Rode heavy over true love, Sweet kisses and romantic promises Succombed to orgasmic thrusts
Until sweeps week ended and the nets
Returned to their normal B.S.
Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ I
If you think the Bush administration is monitoring you,
try keeping your 50th birthday a secret from AARP.
-- Emily Yoffe __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ In the news
Mahdi
These cases need go to the religious courts,
Our constitution, the Koran,
Dictates killing those who would kill.
Ten thousand Iraqi koranically dead
Executed, murdered, By extrajudicial righteousness And the Army of Moqtada al-Sadar. The right to self-defense
Is inherent in any religion; This is part of defending yourself,
A ready-made verdict
To destroy the infidel. The outcome is swift,
Guilt already determined,
If you are caught, you are dead, No questions, no appeals. Takfiris, Saddamists, bombers,
The enemies of Islamic purity, No trial, no jury, No mercy from their peers, Only justice
And the will of Allah. The Americans watch inside the green zone;
The President is on vacation, Answering questions from his Texas ranch, While the Army of Sadr lies waiting For their liberators to leave Baghdad. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ If Congress and the White House do not want
to expend what is necessary to support America's current global role, then policy should shift toward an isolationist stance,
which is all that declining force levels can support.
-- Army Times __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ Show Me The Strategy
Terrorism and Democracy are not Opposites.
One is not a cure for the other.
Hamas won the Palestinian territory's parliamentary elections.
Hezbollah holds a substantial minority of seats in Lebanon's parliament .
In Iraq
Shiites voted for a unified country led by Shiites,
Sunnis voted for a unified country led by Sunnis,
and Kurds voted for their own separate country.
Almost no one voted for a free society
in any Western sense of the term.
__/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ continuation of a theme
Driven
I looked in baby carriages and saw old, old skeletons;
I looked at the old men of the U.S. Senate and saw 96 babies. I was deeply puzzled by the existence of the past and future in the frail forms of the present. -- Alice Sheldon
I am not a hallucination
Nor all of this, I have a firm grasp on reality As do the mermaids Who sing to me each morning. My honorary whiteness,
So graciously bestowed
On Sicilians of all olive shades, Is not something we asked for Or a confirmation We could be elected president Anytime in the near future. My femaleness,
This gash between my legs, Neither sets me free from logic Nor imprisons me: My flesh is my own, My soul free Of both patriarchy
And radical feministocracy. I am neither black nor white,
Life’s ambiguities do not phase me, They do not send me Into religious fantasy
Or comforting political delusion; I accept what is, what must be, And do not attempt To rearrange physical reality Into my emotional comfort food. I have tiptreed my way through life,
Flashes of brilliancies hidden beneath
The day to day necessities Of parents and family, And my demand for companionship, Intellectual adventure That would support those things needed To keep my breathing free of despair. My ideals were shot in Dallas,
My beliefs were crushed in L.A., My friends were lost In the lush jungles of Viet Nam, While I alone survived, A transubstantiating poet Watching grandparents die And parents waste away While she was left Raising children To search the confusion For some way out of here That did not end in death Or the silencing of her mind. Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2006 __/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ Town Hall
on
the Impact of Gentrification on Southwest Washington:
Waterside Mall is defunct, L'Enfant Plaza is shut down
-- where do I buy my gin?
-- Anonymous Resident as reported in the Washington Post
__/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ PEACE
__/\/\/\/\__
^^\/\/\/\/^^ Send your letters and postcards to This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it © Lisa Jain Thompson 2006
Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized.
|
|
| Last Updated ( Saturday, 09 September 2006 ) | |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|