Skip to main content

SATURDAY (6/20/09)

Call on Eric Holder to appoint a special prosecutor to investigate and prosecute Bush-era torture, etc
Seeing the old man who moved like a sloth across the parking lot Stumbling a path waged in determination and loaded with angst, I began to see the future. A panorama of a rebellious reckoning With a gnarly toothed reality of necks bent in disappointment. Our smugness, suffering tossed out like crumbs to the starving begins its vengeful quake across all the gloom we’ve scattered.

Send Harry Reid an email, asking that he not allow drilling in any global warming or climate bill that comes up in Senate
Drill down to the cry of oceans, drill down to the cry of birds, drill down, drill down, drill down! Loose the hell hounds come howling, loose the next monstrous wave, loose the next hoarfrost and eddy! Drill down, baby. Drill down.

Please cosponsor the Senator Paul Simon Water for the World Act of 2009 (S. 624)
Water. Water. Water. Water. Wate. Wat. Wa. W.

Sign petition showing your support of Congress' work to reform America's health care system
They won’t fix what ails you for no stinking shriek or prayer or howl... Hell no! It’s going to take a lot more than human consideration to stitch up your son, or radiate your daughter, or treat your parents! It’s going to take a damned miracle! A malodorous, impractical, damned phenomenon! Ain't no spare change or extra angel wings to save us or bone cracking, god-smacking miracles to come roaring! I've more faith in congress…


© 2009 mrp/thepoetryman
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
12 comments
read the poem

Laughter's Grip

They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait on His voice to destroy the golden temples of man, hold my tongue until His powerful breath was upon me, and from His loving casualties I’d at last know the Savior. They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait for His followers to die away their persuasive babble and the murder of Islam to breach the walls of the earth as the many damned souls drowned under holy laughter. “O! The Lord God is looming! On his way with God’s wrath! We are to take up swords and send evil howling back to die their well deserved and slow death! Their faces popped and spattered these words as they fell back, caught in His fiery presence, twisting their tongues into drivel and thrashing their minds in the glory of an Eden unlike any other. And then the snake planted his venom through the laughter of their gyrating madness. Tears emptied their pockets, spirits came crashing , and the anointed rapture of their making grew tire...
23 comments
read the poem