Starpoet by Lisa Jain Thompson
Newsflash:
 
The
Starpoet 
Newsletter 
Vol. VIII, No. XVIII
 
 
 
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Golden brown spring
Laden with oak and maple dust
Layers the world
With baby-yellow powder
That miscolors green earth
And turns each breath
To hacking coughs
That blinds my eyes
To the planet's beauty
Until the rain
Washes this stain
From the clear blue air
 
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2007 C.E.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
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my lungs are filled with pollen - the gods' revenge on those who would question the details of their design
 
 
 
 
 
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Patriotism means to stand by the country.
It does not mean to stand by the president
or any other public official
save exactly to the degree
in which he himself stands by the country.
 
It is patriotic to support him insofar
as he efficiently serves the country.
It is unpatriotic not to oppose him
to the exact extent
that by inefficiency or otherwise
he fails in his duty to stand by the country.
 
 
President Theodore Roosevelt
 
 
 
 
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place and time 
 
 
Pentagon Snapshot
(Arlington and Points South)
 

Blind man in the hallways,
Tapping out his commute;
Women in business casual,
Not quite en vogue;
Men projecting manliness,
Brooks Brothers via Lands End;
Cami clothed soldiers,
Waiting out between war zones;
Flag at half mast
For Blacksburg and Iraq.
 

Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 
 
 
 
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celebrity watching
 
 
Cheetah at 75
 
 
I want to live as long as Cheetah,
Who's outlasted Tarzan, variety shows,
And a two handfuls of presidents
With nary a mention of scandal
Or internecine tribal warfare.
 
He's the George Burns of chimpanzees,
Now retired, fat, and happy,
Visited by Jane Goodall, 
The noted chimp lady Ph. D.,
(Cheetah has no degree).
 
He's a painter, professional,
Selling his work for a couple hundred;
He plays piano, à la troglodytes,
And occasionally feasts
On a hamburger, fries, and a coke.
 
Not a bad life for any primate
In the sunset of their years,
A movie star still remembered
Decades after Sunset Boulevard:
Cheetah, King of the Apes.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2006
 
 
 
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The Weingarten Gender Test
 
 
I learned from a friend of mine of the following true anecdote, which he contends is the greatest test for whether a person is male or female. I think he's right.


Many years ago, in Washington, at a fancy party, a young, dashing, married United States senator was hitting on a woman. She was extremely flattered, and definitely interested. He invited her up to his hotel room, right then. It was clear that this was to be a one-night thing, maybe even a one-hour thing. She wanted to do it.


But she declined. She declined because she was wearing really bad underpants.


Now, I have this story on unimpeachable authority. It's true. My friend contends that every woman understands this woman's decision entirely, and no man does. So far, my testing of this story has confirmed this view.
 
 
-- Gene Weingarten
Washington Post
 
 
 
 
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anywhere any night
 
 
The Life
 
 
Having an ex is your passport
Into any neighborhood bar in America,
Your visa into a cramped and teeming land
Chock-full of multiple divorce, heartache, and pain;
A jungle filled with stories of spouses gone crazy dead,
Husbands who could no longer stand
Without a handful of meds,
Black high heeled leather, and a cat of nines;
Whispered myths whose origins are lost
Pass stool to stool along the wooden altar
As the bartender points out those few
Who never looked back once they walked out the door,
Who had children replaced with court-ordered child support,
Who lose themselves each night in an endless stream
Of Quervo doubles, cheap bar games, and karaoke,
Whose only home is this dark, smoke-filled room
With friends who seldom have seen them sober.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 
 
 
 
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The very fundamental issue is,
they don't know where the hell they're going.
 
-- Retired Marine Gen. John Sheehan 
On turning the job down as Bush's War Czar
 
 
 
 
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just a thought
 
 
Please Mr. Cheney
 
What I tell you three times is true. 
 
 
Please Mr. Cheney,
Please make me a hero,
Private Lynch doesn't want it,
Please won't you make me a hero.
 
 
I promise to keep to our story,
I'll never ever tell anyone the truth,
Accepting the bronze star from our country,
I'll sing praises to the red, white, and blue.
 
 
Please Mr. Cheney,
Please make me a hero,
Private Lynch doesn't want it,
Please won't you make me a hero.
 
 
I won't get shot by my buddies,
I'll die fighting the enemy for you,
And if I am killed by friendly fire,
You don't need to tell the truth.
 
 
Please Mr. Cheney,
Please make me a hero,
George doesn't want it,
Please won't you make me a hero.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 
 
 
 
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We decided a half a century ago that our more eccentric and, indeed, crazy fellow citizens would not be easily locked in asylums. It was a humane decision, but with the inevitable consequence that some who really need quarantine are allowed to roam the streets.

In a previous age, such a troubled soul [as Cho Seung Hui] might have found himself at the state mental hospital rather than a state university. But in a trade-off that a decent and tolerant society makes with open eyes, we allow freedom from straitjackets to those on the psychic edge, knowing that such tolerance runs a very rare but very terrible risk.
 
 
-- Charles Krauthammer
 
 
 
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The people are the ultimate guardians of their own liberties.
In every government on earth
is some trace of human weakness,
some germ of corruption and degeneracy
...Every government degenerates when trusted
to the rulers of the people alone.
 
-- Thomas Jefferson
 
 
 
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observation
 
 
Stages of Right Christian Political Theology
 
 
1.
 
Pass the bullets
And Praise the Lord
Vote for George and Jesus
 
 
2.
 
How will we know
The annointed one
If the Lord won't share his secret?
 
 
3.
 
How will we tell
Giuliani from the anti-Christ
If he doesn't renounce homosexuals?
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 
 
 
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Richard Jeni
(1957-2007)
 
 
A guy buys a used motorcycle. He gets a good price on it because the finish is not in great shape. The seller warns him that to avoid rust, he must make sure that he applies a light coat of Vaseline to it, if it looks like it is going to rain.
 
That same day, the guy is going to meet his girlfriend's family for the first time. He picks her up on his motorcycle. On the way over, his girlfriend warns him that her family is a little weird, with odd customs: "Whatever you do," she says, "do NOT speak during dinner. Anyone who talks during dinner, even a syllable, has to wash the dishes."
 
So they get to the house. The guy is totally not prepared for what he sees. It's a big house, and it is covered, floor to ceiling, in dirty dishes. There are dirty dishes on the bookshelves, on the furniture, dirty dishes in the chandeliers, in the fireplace. The floor is covered with dirty dishes except for small footpaths that have been cleared.
 
So they sit down to dinner, and, not surprisingly, no one says a word. After about 15 minutes, the guy realizes something: He can do anything he wants, because no one will raise a word of criticism. He can do ANYTHING. And he's feeling a little horny. So he gets up from the table, walks over to his girlfriend, pulls her from the table, lays her on the floor, and ... has sex with her! Right there. On the floor.
 
They finish, get back to the table, and no one says a word. The guy is pretty pleased with himself. About 15 minutes later, he's still feelin' a little spunky, so he grabs his girlfriend's mother, and does the same thing to her, RIGHT ON THE TABLE.
 
No one says a word.
 
About five minutes later, the guy looks out the window, and sees that it's starting to rain.
 
He says: "Does anyone have any Vaseline?"
 
And the girlfriend's father leaps up and says, "It's okay! I'll do the dishes!"
 
 
 
 
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I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me
and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country
... Corporations have been enthroned,
an era of corruption in high places will follow,
and the money-power of the country will endeavor
to prolong its reign by working upon
the prejudices of the people
until the wealth is aggregated in a few hands
and the Republic is destroyed.
 
--Abraham Lincoln
November 12, 1864
 
 
 
 
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blood relations
 
 
The Direction of the Gaze
 
 
Chimps and Humans.
First cousins at the worst,
I wonder what their
Religious prophets think
When they gaze upon
Their hairless brothers,

Or if a male chimp,
Alone without a mate,
Might sometimes fantasize
On the female outside his cage
As he gazes forlornly
While he masterbates,
 
Unselfconsciously reminding
The rest of humanity
How little separates
The direction of our gaze
Once we remove
Our carefully assembled moat.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007

 
 
 
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long range planning
 
 
Berlin 2007
 
 
We're building fucking walls in Baghdad
-- Who do we think we are mother Russia?
Have we become another Soviet Union
Partitioning cities to keep the good guys in,
The bad guys out,
And Check Point Charlies ad nauseum?
 
The president's solution to everything
Is to build a wall around anything
He doesn't understand:
Let's erect a fence between us and Mexico,
Stop all the federal funding for stem cells,
Keep gays and lesbians in a non-married ghetto,
Only listen to the news
Through a closed circle of friends,
Letting nothing in
That might disrupt his world view,
Walled up in the White House
Like some aristocratic Czar in his summer palace
While Zhivago and Julie Christy
Trade knowing glances at the revolution.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 


 
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One of the penalities for refusing to participate in politics
is that you end up being governed by your inferiors.
 
-- Plato
 
 
 
 
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getting inside
 
 
The Other
 
 
You live your life
Taunted by everyone
And everything you see:
A boy, a girl 
In close conversation, 
You never will,
Never could do that;
Look at them,
What are they going to do next?
Go a movie,
Or sneak away to where
Boys and girls go
When they want to be alone
To do things to each other;
You watch the others,
All of them,
Walking, talking
Seemingly without care,
Buying groceries,
Watching a softball game
On a Sunday Afternoon,
Why won't they leave you alone?
Do they want to be your enemy?
Everyone?  EVERYONE?
Everyone is a stranger,
Everyone is other,
Everyone is not like me;
Kill them, show them,
Kill them all.
You can't let them
Assault you like this
And let get away with it.
 
 
Lisa Jain Thompson
April 2007
 
 
 
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The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders
. . . All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked
and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism.
 
-- Hermann Goering
Nazi Gestapo
 
 
 
 
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PEACE
 
 
 
 
 
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Copyright © Lisa Jain Thompson 1995-2007. 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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