StarPoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. XLIII

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson c. 2008 C. E.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-- unknown

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the war rages on

 

 

Men, blown skyward,
Mingle with flame and the smoke,
Priests in threadbare robes
Trudge along the shoulder of the road,
Looking up at the stars in heaven
For a glimpse of their merciful gods.

 

The whisky bottle lies empty,
No longer able to provide any comfort,
The leaves struggle to hang close to the trees
As winter blows in from the Lakes,
The poet stands in the ancient courtyard
Praying to her muse for redemption.

 

Meanwhile over in the rail yard,
The locomotives are warming up,
Idling roughly in the cold and darkness
Before leaving the station for the crossroads
Where the engineer will make promises
That no one intends to keep.

 

Tomorrow will come when you least expect it,
As surely as night will follow day,
The parade will continue along main street,
The crowds will be cheering quite loud,
The center ring will possess its super star
Whether we’re at the circus or the carnival.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

if, when, and ever

 

 

 

 

Should he ask you to go with him
And share his life and bed,
Would you refuse, knowing the ending,
To carry his baby within you;
Would you love him above all else
And stay beside him until his death
In the arms of some officious homeland defense?

 

Would you flee with his child to some distant land
Where the zealots and the law cannot reach you;
Would you tell your son or daughter
Exactly who their father was
Or would you take your secrets to your grace?

 

Could you fight to preserve his memory
Against the onslaught of rewritten history;
Could you cry out against injustice
And take up his bloody mantle
Or would you live a quiet life of frustration
For the greater good of your children?

 

A woman’s choice ever since the beginning,
No matter who might claim to speak for heaven.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have come to realise that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.
-- Ronald Reagan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

scanners die in vain

 

 

 

 

If we fail to leave this planet,
No one will ever know
We once dreamed of voyages
Beyond this earthen star
We have found ourselves.

 

To die in vain,
To end this quest out of Africa,
Surrendering any chance at greatness
For a handful of decades of safety
Does not become us, betraying all those
Who have brought us here,
Making cheap drama of the blood
Through generations shed so we might live
To have this singular chance.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

immortality

 

 

 

 

 

 

If the human race were to suddenly stop dying
-- If immortality were in our reach –
What power would the gods still have
When heaven and hell are merely options,
Lifestyle choices that need not be taken?

 

Time will come when death is a rare occurrence,
An accident of time and place,
A decision taken out of boredom:
Would faith require we exercise our option
And take direct action to meet our makers,

 

Or would the gods content themselves
With the souls already captured
And the unlucky few who fall to random chance
Or pursue the unknown with scientific curiosity?

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Any people anywhere, being inclined and having the power,
have the right to rise up, and shake off the existing government,
and form a new one that suits them better.
This is a most valuable - a most sacred right -
a right, which we hope and believe, is to liberate the world.
-- Abraham Lincoln

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the golden road

 

 

 

 

We’re all looking for the easy road to paradise,
The rolling, golden path that will lead us to happiness,
Eternal bliss, and all the promises that childhood brings.

 

Homeward bound, we haplessly travel
Through Christmas memories of love and family,
Parents and grandparents, dead and gone,
Brothers and sisters grown distant with time,
Friends and lovers no longer found
And memories of when the world revolved
Around bright toys and the safety of our bedroom.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One sunny day in 2009 an old man approached the White House from across Pennsylvania Avenue, where he'd been sitting on a park bench.   He spoke to the U.S. Marine standing guard and said, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush."

 

The Marine looked at the man and said, "Sir, Mr. Bush is no longer president and no longer resides here."

 

The old man said, "Okay" and walked away.

 

The following day, the same man approached the White House and said to the same Marine, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush."

 

The Marine again told the man, "Sir, as I said yesterday, Mr. Bush is no longer president and no longer resides here."

 

The man thanked him and, again, just walked away.

 

The third day, the same man approached the White House and spoke to the very same U. S. Marine, saying, "I would like to go in and meet with President Bush."

 

The Marine, understandably agitated at this point, looked at the man and said, "Sir, this is the third day in a row you have been here asking to speak to Mr. Bush. I've told you already that Mr. Bush is no longer the president and no longer resides here. Don't you understand?"

 

The old man looked at the Marine and said, "Oh, I understand. I just love hearing it."

 

The Marine snapped to attention, saluted, and said, "See you tomorrow."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

forecasters

 

 

 

 

If they’d ’av’ said it was gonna rain,
I would have brung my umbrella,
But all they done is showed me graphics,
Them fancy ‘puter animations,
And ne’er once bothered to mentioned
Anything ‘bout no precipitation

 

-- None.  Not a word.  Not Never.  Nope.

 

‘Tween the morning chatting
And traffic reports on the one,
I dunno if there were time
For them to do a forecast,
What with all that smilin’ and jokin’
And everything.

 

But they all sure talked purty
With their fancy profess’nal clothes
And all them beautified ‘puter screens.
I’m almost sorry it rained and spoiled everything
‘Coz they sure was apologizing when I got home

All cold and soakin’ wet.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

in the morning 'morrow

 

 

 

 

Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson,
Nixon, Ford, Carter. Reagan,
Bush – Clinton – Bush

-- The next president makes me
An even dozen.

 

Tra Loo, Tra Lay, Hurrah!

 

For the president of the vote,
Vote yourself a farm;

 

A leader for a change,
America needs a change;

 

In your heart you know he’s right,
Let America be American again:

 

The stakes are too high
For you to stay at home.

 

Tra loo, Tra Lay, Hurrah!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

just saying

 

 

 

 

 

If I were gay,
And I'm not saying I'm not,
Some of my best friends would be women.

 

If I were straight,
And that's up for debate,
Some of my best friends would be str8 girls.

 

What is so important
About who I make love to
For a couple of hours each night in bed?

 

No one is there
Except me, her, and them,
Don't look thru our window if we bother you.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
November 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not,
diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy.
-- Earnest Benn