Starpoet by Lisa Jain Thompson
The StarPoet Newsletter
Vol. XI, No. XV (April 11, 2010 C.E.)
StarPoet Newsletter by Lisa Jain Thompson

If you live within the United States, you have four more days in which to file your taxes.    Aren't you glad you read this?  BTW if you email hiccupped when you received the last newsletter and immediately provided a second copy, we apologize.  It shouldn't happen this time.  We think.  

In Afghanistan
The President,
Demi-god of all the worlds,
Descends within the night,
Sans His shiny armor,
To greet His troops
To encourage them
To fight
To die
As He should ask,
Speaking the gloriously beautiful
Of Presidents and Kings,
Patriots every one,
Forever and ever evermore
Until time itself recuses us,

Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2010 C.E. 

the wounded warriors to the Pentagon came from Walter Reed on their monthly visit, along with Michelle Obama who arrived on her 2010 Meet and Greet World Tour in the Center Courtyard accompanied by the Secret Service..

working on a riff

Someone Else

A night of a dozen hours,
No more, no less,
Eight of which are needed
For sleep,
More or less.

The night is long
The moon is bright
The hours slip by
Cuckoo cuckoo
The poet writes alone

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)


The reviews were in, and they weren't kind. A New York TV critic called him "unspeakably untalented and vulgar." Another newspaper described his singing style as "howling and yowling." The New York Times, with regal disdain, declared him "the virtuoso of hootchy-kootchy."

early spring

April She Comes

A clatter of birds
Making ready their morning's work,
A whine of bus, a doppler of cars,
The low rumble of the paper truck, dogs barking,
As the driver throws the news on the porch;
Blue sky, scattered rain clouds,
Sun barely above the dull horizon,
The high near ninety come late afternoon,
April at its best most confusing,
Daffodils and tulips all a-wilt.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)
the various craft
To Write Like The Muse

If I
Were to write like the muse,
My poetry filled
With dancing girls gaily garland'd,
The scent of hyacinths
Would soon o'erflood these lines,
Such lips as yours
Would caress my small breasts
And I would have less time to poet.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)


Presley is a 21-year-old young man who makes more than $40,000 a week for rockin' from his heels and rollin' his suggestive songs," scoffed the New York Journal American in the second part of a series on "the controversial rock n' roll craze" in June 1956. "He puts on the kinds of shows that make young girls violently excited and adults violently angry. 'He ought to be banned!' is a frequent suggestion among shocked members of the older generation who have observed his seductive gestures on stage and TV."

sometimes I do not sleep
Notes After Midnight


I am out of NyQuill
Before I'm out of sneezes
And Benadryl just won't sleep me
Without vastly overdrying my sinuses
Two or three pills into the mix.


A Jurassic T-Rex stalks my T. V.,
Devouring lawyers and evil scientists,
The Good Guys win, the Plot doesn't change,
And the Dinosaurs go back where they came from,
At least until they make the next sequel.


The stars, the snow, the biting cold,
I do not look forward to tomorrow;
The snow, the cold, the piles of white,
The sore muscles come noon on Sunday
After morning services with the shovel.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)


An Associated Press story reproduced in the exhibit quotes a music critic who said Elvis "had not even the quality of true obscenity, merely an artificial and unhealthy exploitation of the enthusiasm of youthful bodies and minds. One could call it subsidized sex."

skillet good and goosey

Stir Me Up

Stir me up, my darling,
Stir my flesh and heart,
I am your one and only,
Stir me up real good.

You own my mind and body,
If my soul exists, it's yours,
Stir me up, my darling,
The world can wait on us.

My lips are yours, my darling,
My eyes, my tongue, my fingers,
Stir me up right now and ever,
We've time enough for love.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)
a little romance please
If I Begin

Do you mind if I begin, or is there
Something more pressing you must do?
Who was that on the phone just now
That caused you to close the door?
I know you can't ever tell me
And I should not unpuzzle the pieces,
So I will forget what may be or not afoot
And lock the memory behind a wall.
But for now, do you mind if I begin?
My body aches for your touch.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)


The Los Angeles Times' TV critic dismissed Elvis's first appearance on "The Ed Sullivan Show" this way: "Incidentally, most of the adults I talked to who saw the show turned on Presley purely out of curiosity just to see what all the shoutin' was about. And most of them are still wondering."

due justice
In Defense of Children

We are primates, social creatures,
Our DNA is programmed
To protect our children,
And yet, there walk among us
Golems with broken brains
Who would kill a young child
As easily as raping a woman.

We are a century, at least, away
From being able to change their wiring;
The best we can do in the meanwhile
Is imprison them forever without parole;
The most merciful and safest course
Is to treat them as they would treat us.
I would protect our children absolutely
Before I would ever think of allowing
Some child's killer to go on breathing.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)
less sleep, more poetry

Perchance to GaGa

No words, no sleep, attention deficited brain
Bouncing in all directions, Lady GaGa playing incessantly
In a not so distant background; the glare of security lights
Reflecting on the snow, lighting up the bedroom
Close enough to almost read;  Body refusing all combinations
-- Left side, right side, tummy, on the back --
As the sun edges closer to work and rising..

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)

Dr. Henry Edward Roberts, an engineer who developed a precursor to the modern personal computer, died in Georgia last week.

The 68-year-old was best known for developing and marketing the MITS Altair 8800 in the 1970s.

The build-it-yourself kit was operated by switches and had no display screen, but it inspired Bill Gates and his childhood friend Paul Allen to found Microsoft in 1975 after they saw an article about the Altair in Popular Mechanics. Gates and Allen founded Microsoft in Albuquerque, N.M., to be based near MITS.

the randomness of guns

The Encounter at Pentagon Station

The disaffected lash out at random symbols of power,
Disturbed acts of aggression,
Men who blame others for their misfortunes,
Targetting the sinister forces they believe
Actively obstruct them,
Beliefs now validated and amplified
By online communities of like minded craziness.

There is a broad undercurrent of anti-government discontent,
An ancient American distrust of men of privilege and power;
The web and mainstream radio and television
Echo the feelings of anger and powerlessness;
Conspiracies are seen everywhere and lack of proof
Only reinforces the surety of their belief:
White supremists, anti-goverment true believers,
Religious fanatics and outright sociopaths,
Personally motivated to violence and a radical democracy
Whose foundations are gunpowder, ricin,
And the ever present C-4.

We treating them all with pills and counselling
Until the moment they pull the trigger, blow up a building,
Kill a dozen people or die in a rain of Bonnie and Clyde bullets;
We leave them free to wander about, assaulting us
In the name of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,
Theirs, not ours.

— Lisa Jain Thompson (April 2010)

b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b b ...

Expert Babble, Usually Credentialed

The world is not what it was,
If it ever were what it was;
The future does not exist
Unless we make it,
What will be shall not be
If we wait for it;
Today is a point
We're passing through
That disappears the moment
We have it in our grasp.

— Lisa Jain Thompson  (April 2010)


Life magazine's photo spread on Elvis mania included a picture of teenagers praying for Elvis's salvation after their pastor had told them he had achieved "a new low in spiritual degeneracy." A Catholic magazine warned its readers, "Beware Elvis Presley."

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