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Newsflash:

Starpoet Newsletter Vol. VII, No. XXXV

Sunday, 27 August 2006 07:48 Last Updated on Saturday, 09 September 2006 07:17

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

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<><><><><>

There is hope for a tree if it be cut down that it will sprout again,

and that its tender branch will not cease.

Book of Job

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August gone for the most part, summer still here stifling our breath. Our labors have only just begun.

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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

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If you think the Bush administration is monitoring you,

try keeping your 50^th birthday a secret from AARP.

-- Emily Yoffe

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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Town Hall

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

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PEACE

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© Lisa Jain Thompson 2006

Further distribution of this newsletter in its entirety is authorized.