Thomas Randolph (1605-1635) Born This Date

On Sixe Cambridge Lasses Bathinge Themselfes by Queenes Colledge on the 25th of June at Night and Espied by a Scholer

When bashfull daylight now was gone
And night, that hides a blush, came on.
Sixe Pretty Nymphes to wash away
The sweatinge of a Summers daye...

June 15th marks the birthday of this 17th century English poet -

Give Me Some Everyday Religion

"Dearest dealer,
I with my royal straight flush,
love you so for your wild card,
that untamable, eternal, gut-driven ha-ha
and lucky love." - Anne Sexton

So esoteric, you
accommodate me at times,
without foundation.

That I should roll snake-eyes
or pick a winning number
with no grounds and not a “thank you”
for my part to be the blest bastard. But then,

to be trumped by every stop-light
or fathom a turn of hard-luck so
lethal, I squirm in the puddles of
self-pity and moan of the great
injustice of this world like I understand
it all so well. Ha!

Deal me in… I say.
Let me play with the big boys.
Let me smoke my luck and drink my advantage
like my supply of chips at the bank is unending.
Are you looking over my shoulder God?

Subliminals

You say... I think -

1. Colorblind:: dogs
   
2. Shallow:: Bush
   
3. Erotica:: a different Bush
   
4. Figment:: imagination
   
5. Eviction:: homeless
   
6. Composed:: at ease
   
7. Chill:: out
   
8. Girl:: chick
   
9. California:: dream'n
   
10. Bond:: link
    

Thursday Notables

I recommend reading the following op ed piece Defining Torture as well as check out the NPR link concerning Ashcroft on the torture memos.

A view on the recent issues before the California Supreme Court concerning when poetry constitutes a dangerous threat.


Alliteration - Strong and alive in America.

The Unknown

A shadow falls across my path.
Hesitant future pauses.
A deer frozen in headlights,
Leaving the veins ice cold;
And the ground rumbles
To locomotion on ribs of steel
Across life.


[written this morning]

Monday Morning

Yesterday, spent the afternoon at my son's. My aunt is visiting. I passed on writers group to spend time with them. My family is awesome. Sometimes I cannot understand how it is that I fit with them.

Always On The Chin

Pressing the issue as you so often do,
I fall flat. Spilt milk to mop up whenever
Someone gets around to the more mundane

Of life. I can’t, I can’t! Again, the obvious
But you sound the alarm and rush to muster
All forces behind your assault but others stand

To watch. A movie, a play… did you write
The script? How marvelous the ending
If it would just end but seems to go on

Like an LP that is scratched. Over and over
Monotonous melody- I want to throw up
And one day, I promise. The curtain will fall.