StarPoet Newsletter Vol. IX, No. XXXIII

 
The StarPoet Newsletter
Vol. IX, No. XXXIII

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After walking through the demonstrators yet again 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For every atomic bomb
   Dropped on Imperial Japan,
If one more American is alive,
   It was more than worth the expense.

 

Not our war
   But our dead at Pearl,
Without warning,
   Without provocation;

 

Hiroshima, Nagasaki,
   Too bad, too bad:
Not our war
   But we finished it.

 

You could have quit after Iwo, you know,
   Surrendered, given up,
But you chose to follow your god-king
   Right off over the precipice.

 

But not before you raped
   Thousands of Korean women,
Then turned them into prostitutes
   To give comfort to your officers.

 

Our only regret should be
   We didn’t drop the bomb much sooner.
You didn’t see anyone in South East Asia
   Complaining, did you?

 

Hiroshima

 

Nagasaki

 

War’s end

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

getting paid

 

 

 

 

Life at the Pentagon is a series of drive-bys:
This general wants that, that general wants this:
Today some congressman wants to zero out your budget line,
Tomorrow the president borrows your money to cover his schemes,
And by Friday some jack-ass on talk radio or maybe it is cable
Suggests that, if only we would reboot, start the game over,
The take our dollars and redistribute them to his handpicked buds.
The world would be a much finer place for him and his,
Safe once again for capitalism, democracy, and the republic.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-- Jen Kerwin 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

more on the skillset

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everything inside
All & everything
The world
The galaxy
Space & Time
Death & life
Inside the poet’s maw
To feed my pen

 

Parents
Family
Friends & Heroes
Their blood, my ink

 

Lovers
Enemies
The one who hated me
   in the third grade
The who made fun

 

My screw-ups
My fuck-ups
Disaster & Success
My joys, my pains
My life, my ink

 

‘Till death part me
From this fragile being

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Passing

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dead of Aids
Dead of Alzheimer’s
Cancer
Heart attack
Hypertension
IED and bullet

 

Dead of Auto
Dead of Stupidity
Drugs
Alcohol
Random chance
And accident

 

Keeping too much in
Letting too much out
Black and white photos
Of family and friends
Wars and battles
Long since forgotten

 

Memory and argument
Violence and illusion
Torn down
Torn apart
Torn forever
All lost

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
Alibi - A technique used where the player has apparently won the game, but is denied a prize when the jointee invents a further, unforeseeable, condition of the game. For example, a player may be disqualified on the grounds of having leaned over a previously undisclosed "foul line."

 

 

Blow Off - Rush of customers out of an exhibition.

 

 

Bone yard - Place at which employees stay when not working. (called the bone yard because employees work hard all day long until they're nothing but bones).

 

 

Burn the lot - To cheat players with little or no attempt to conceal the subterfuge, in the carny's expectation that the same town will not be visited again.

 

 

Butcher - A carnie that will take every penny from a mark by confusing them and then forcing them to pay

 

 

Call - The act of yelling out slogans and interacting with passers-by to attract business.

 

 

Midway - Center strip of the carnival where the games or rides are located.

 

 

Patch money - Money used to induce police officers to turn a blind eye. Also known as juice or ice.

 

 

 

 

Two-Way Joint - A game that can be quickly converted from a fixed, unwinnable game into a temporarily honest one when police officers come by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The practice of putting women on pedestals
Began to die out
When it was discovered that
They could give orders better from there.
-- Betty Grable

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

for Zara's father

 

 

 

In the Fields at Arlington

 

 

Baptized in the fires
Of Korea and Vietnam,
Cherished by family,
Wife, daughter, and son;
Silver Star, Distinguished Service,
For singularly meritorious action;
Buried beneath a simple head stone
Beside Civil War veterans,
World Wars II and I.

 

Deliver us, grant us peace,
In mercy keep us free,
This ancient cup must pass
One generation to the next;
In the eyes of fools at peace,
Such brief immortality
Slips before their eyes,
Then drifts unnoticed to the grave.

 

 

No more death, no more mourning,
No more wailing, no pain, no tears;
The battle has annointed his body
Now resting between white headstones;
On the graves of others, we stand watch
As the Old Guard lower him down
Beneath the sun, the dirt, the rolls of sod,
At peace at last, our wearied friend.

 

When the chaplain had spoken,
The hot sun was setting,
The planes from National
Grew quiet and cold,
There stood his marker
Where once stood a soldier,
The drum beat slowly
As we turned and walked away.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You know,
If anybody ever ripped my clothes off,
I'd kill them.
-- Julianne Moore

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

back when

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Spinning Jenny shines high above the midway,
Rotating brightly all around,
The ten in one echoes through the carnival,
The freaks are working the grounds.

 

The carnies are practicing their alibis,
The game stock fills all of their shelves,
The two-way joints are up and running,
The calliope serenades the carousel.

 

Swinging from a car atop the ferris wheel,
Me and a friend, a moment frozen in time,
Swaying above the luminated earth far below,
Nothing could stop what we felt.

 

The round-about is quiet in disrepair,
The tents have been struck, tattered and torn,
The dust blows across those empty fields
Where we walked, hand in hand, in love.

 

Spinning Jenny still shines above the midway,
Rotating so brightly all around,
I remember that crystal night we met
And only wonder how it all could go so wrong.

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

what came

 

 

 

 

 

 

for all of us,
every last one
-- LJT

 

 

 

When Johnny
When Johnny
When Johnny comes marching home
When Johnny comes
When Johnny
Hurrah!
(What the fuck?)
Hurrah!

 

 

The men will cheer
The boys
The boys will shout
The ladies      The ladies
The ladies will all turn out

 

 

And we'll all  all  all
We'll all feel gay
Trr ramp ramp tramping
Around the watchfires
The dews and damps
In the Dews and damps
The dews and damps

 

 

Loose the lightning
Swift the sword
Hear the thunder
Toll and trouble
Terrible trouble
Terrible
When Johnny comes marching
When Johnny comes rolling
The women will shout
The men turn out

 

 

Sifting
Sifting
Let us go
Sifting
Sifting
Let all of us
Die sifting
To make men
Free

 

 

Free

 

 

Our sword
Our men
Our women
Our dim and flaring lamps
In the lilies
Beneath the lilies
When Johnny comes marching home

 

 

The river, our river
I   --   We   --   Us
We long to see you
When we return
When Johnny comes home
Comes marching home

 

 

By the sea
By the sea
By the beautiful sea
I'll be your lover
I'll be your lover
River to beautiful sea

 

 

I've wandered far
I’ve wandered
Far from your rushing waters
I love to see
Again your mountains
Your golden prairies
Your spacious skies and seas
When Johnny comes
When Johnny comes

 

 

Your aging alabaster glimmers
Glimmering     Glimmering
Glimmer gleam it is
Ramparts bursting
Rockets streaming
When Johnny comes
When Johnny
Seal to shining seal
Johnny
Hurrah!
Sea to shining sea

 

 

When Johnny
When Johnny comes marching home
When Johnny comes
When Johnny comes

 

 

Come back to me Johnny
Come back to me
Come back

 

 

Hurrah
Hurrah
Hurrah
Amen

 

 

Amen us all

 

 

Amen

 

 

 

Lisa Jain Thompson
August 2008

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

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