The Left Column

Politics for Poets

Wake up!

So we have money and we have ownership. And we have private property. And we have copyrights and patents. All of these things are owned by private individuals. It has been a fact of human history for thousands of years. These things are not owned by the collective whole.

well . . .

I think I've blogged enough today.

Life goes on.

Thank You Veterans!

July 13, 2012

~ OK Now.

 

Out to your
 fishing hole
  didn't catch anything
     didn't catch anything
    today.

  Looked for the ball
    that you pitched.
  didn't catch anything
   didn't catch anything
   today.

  Some how when it's sad
    like it sometimes do
    it's sad like a laid down
      defeated clown
 on the bench
      on the train
  flying past
    the rocket factory
    in the rain
      of 1957.

  Dance off
  towards constilations
    of light
   of your own creation
 a key to the factory.
  a million new ideas
 all your own.

  Own your ideas
 if you dare to be a
 mush headed demagouge
 what purpose of life
 is there for you but
 to own the foolishness
  that we do.

  Sharing this,
    hoarding that.
 you just sat down
 on an old guy's hat.

  Guy comes ambling
     down the track
   gives you the eye
  like there is no way back.

  If you stay you pay and pay
  they want more and more of it every day.
    Doesn't matter what the old folks say.
  they want more so pay and pay.

  If it were Tuesday
    and there were rain
       in the hills of New Hampshire
  so anyone running a Jeep down an old trail
   might come upon some mud and run right through
     that splashing it all on the sides of the rig
   little boy giggling with glee though he's 33 years old.
 Would a guy like that take you up and over the mountain?
  You'd give him a half a quart of something
    he'd show you to slivers and a sugary shake.
 Introduces you to his fondest cousin.
  It's all good.
 Everyone's friends
    here.
 
        
Running out of time 
where everything is an 
   AinC song about jonesing.
  
Some one is singing your name
 in the rain
     and dancing
 like a fool
   through the puddles.

  I saw him there
  the glee in his face
 catching my eye
    and smiling.

  A guy like that
   will find the right one
   and be off for a lifetime
      of fun
     on the run.

  If you love a guy true
  there's nothing better to do
 to sacrifice
   everything
        for the true friend.

  Lost off in poem moments
   thinking about the stranger's 
         eyes
 that make a longing arise.
    the cunning.
  the wise look of understanding.
 The light clicks on.
   the stranger sees you like him
  and he is going to
   help you along.

  It's later.
   He took the tourist girl to 
       the high ledges and the
          gorge along
    with her little brother and
        sister and
      Dad and cousin.
  Dad likes him too.
   She's pretty and kind.
    She doesn't like him
    just cause he's tall
 and some say good looking.

  She heard him talk about his aunt
     at the home and how he goes to see her.
  He never knew that she'd been ease dropping.
  He was the best looking kid in the valley,
      ask any of the grand mothers.
  They never told him that.
      and he didn't know.

  Oh fawn gone, a kid
     that good looking would know
 he'd see it in other people
  how they want to catch his eye
   and see him smile while he's 
    looking at you like
       he's aware that you care
   and he's good with that because
     he knows that everyone feels
   it's so. He knows. He's good
     with being loved.

  So then you walk away,
  nothing to say.
  The kids a good kid.
       and you've seen him work
  and he shows up there every day
 even when it's a million degrees
    in that kitchen
 and old manager Joe is cracking the
     whip, old
      woman is sick and
  he's worried so he's
     being a jerk to 
 the ladies and they tell him.
    May says to him
 that he ought to smarten up and
   that kid is working hard
 and saving his money for a car
 or to buy a sciff or some larger craft
   to have a career of it on the harbor
  like any good kid might want to do.

   Story fades off into a greesey meal
     so good.
   I'm so hungrey
  it's too hot outside today.
 the things I over hear.
     He is a good kid.
  not just fun to observe but fun to 
      know.

  So every day that summer the 
      poet would go into his fantasy
   gril and  his fantasy gril guy
    who is dating the girl, the prettiest girl
      down the cape, and he's going back to
   Lebanon in the fall to start school at 
    the fancy college.

  Ah, just a fancy story of mind
    now this mind must wonder off
       to chores.