StarPoet Newsletter Vol. X, No. XVIII

My children have come along on this ride
Because, in the luck of the draw, they are mine,
The offspring of a poet warrior woman
Who seldom mentions them except in the passing,
The children who gave her a reason for staying
All those years when she wanted to run
To some Sierra cabin and leave all this behind
To pursue the dreams of a lifetime
And end all her misery: ao they all got drug along
With her which never was her intention.

Rain falling,
Dripping off the limestone,
Fill the reflecting pools,
Wetting the benches.

A properly gray and soggy memorial
So unlike the bright fall day
When the building shook us
And the walls crashed down

Around our naivety and arrogance
And candy apple presidents
Who promised us everything,
Paid for nothing: we bought it all,
More than happy to be uninvolved.

A chilly wind blows over the Pentagon,
Down from Arlington and Custis-Lee;
Wars have been fought here,
Wars will be fought, our blood the price
Of our freedom and The Union.

A jet airliner is echoing
Off the walls of the inner driveway:
It's location is up, it's direction unknown
In the concrete canyons of the Pentagon.

The plane sounds closer
That the one that crashed
-- Stirring memories I'd best forget --
Then it's gone and I'm still here,
Pretending I was never there.

Blood, pieces, burning jet fuel,
Black smoke curling inside a corridor,
Sirens twisting hopelessly down Columbia Pike,
The gaping hole where my friends once were.

Roll me down the starry heavens,
Roll me down tonight,
Roll me down beneath the starshine,
I need to be held tonight.

Wake me up when the sun has risen,
Wake me up in your arms,
Wake me up  with your passionate kisses,
I need to be loved tonight.

Come to me under the starlight,
Come to me tonight,
Come to me beneath the clear dark sky,
I need to make love tonight.

Rock me gentle 'neath the moonlight,
Rock me through the years,
Rock me, darlin', now and ever,
I need to be loved tonight..

Another morning, another day
Blowing up some third world nation;
Traitors to the left, treason to the right,
What's a po' girl suppose t' do
Working for the middle,
Trying to make a living?

Can't you hear that rooster crowin'
As first light breaks through the dark;
Can't you see that river's runnin',
Carrying our sins to the ocean?
Can't you feel the new sun rising,
Brightly shining at the end of the road?

I'm a fifth daughter on a long twelfth night,
Never the first one, but never the last,
Runnin' that white line down Highway 61;
A high plains rider, discretely armed,
Racing the wind, howl after howl, outside of Kingman
Back through the Sierra down again past the Joshua Trees. 

Candy, cough drop, hand sanitizer?
Gee you don't look well.
Do you know where your children are
Or what sickly friend they might bring home?

God bless you.
Was that a sneeze or a cough?
How do you feel about wearing a mask
Or not not visiting me for a while?

Oh, and one last thing,
No matter what else you do,
Keep your dirty hands, damit,
Off my tamiflu!

April winds pushing summer thunder heads,
Great white billows and dark gray threats;
Tulips reaching toward scattered breaks,
Red and yellow against bright blue.

Up above, the fifth floor
Has a clear view of the horizon:
There, the rain is falling; over there, not so much.

Down below in the courtyard,
Women scurry, heads covered,
As a cool rain twists in from outside the walls;

The green suits walk slowly,
Un'brella'd and uncovered,
Way too Army to need any elemental protection

There was a time
When I thought I could do anything:
Walk on the sands of Mars,
Play centerfield in the Major Leagues,
Write the Great American Novel,
Become President of the United States
(The POTUS if you wish),
Explore the habital planets
Orbiting Alpha Centuari,
Be a wife, a mother,
And bluesy rock and roll singer,
All the while living forever,
An imortal in life and poetry.

Somewhere along the way,
I would discover the Grand Unified Theory
That would unite both time and space,
Large and small,  and allow us to delay
The slow entropic death of the Universe
For all Eternity, or at least until I grew
Thoroughly bored with the whole thing
And decided to try something new.

There are so many things
I wish to do, so many places
I would like to visit, so many books
I need to read, and all those poems
I still must write before I sleep,
If Sappho wills and the doctors' skill
Can keep me going, piece by piece,
Until I prove we've well run out
Of poets on Planet Earth.

Her computer calling in ill with spring fever,
She sits at mine, working on an article;
We share both site and server
So why not a 'puter?

We share our food and our bodies
So why not a 'puter?
Did Christ preach against the true marriage
Of two people and  their computer?

It's our house now and we
Can do who we want,
A guy, a woman,
Or even a computer.