Inquisition of an Atheist [Bonus Poem, March 19, 2010]

Inquisition of an Atheist [Bonus Poem, March 19, 2010]

“So you prefer this isle of sin?”
“Yes, I do. Is loving breath
Worth the loss of life hereafter?”

“This body tests who ought to win—”
“'... Life forever, life in death,'
Lies the fronds dismiss with laughter.”

“You mock the words of holy books!”
“Books they wrote to cow the hicks.”
“Evil force defiles your soul—“

“And yet I'm here on tenterhook—“
“We won't fall for evil tricks,
Lies, deceit: your only goals.

In pandemonium for you: eternity's assigned
A proper fate for one who hates a God like mine—God's kind."




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The Near-Senile Magnetic Cloud Speaks Out of Turn During a Mating Ritual [Today's News Poem, March 19, 2010]

The Near-Senile Magnetic Cloud Speaks Out of Turn During a Mating Ritual [Today's News Poem, March 19, 2010]
“... Bangladesh, to the vast, such as the US; from the familiar - England, New Zealand... What unites such a disparate group is concern about climate change. They have all signed on to participate in Earth Hour next Saturday.”
--JENNIE CURTIN, Sydney Morning Herald, March 20, 2010
http://www.smh.com.au/environment/earth-hour/nations-large-and-small-join-climate-change-campaign-20100319-qmay.html

What can't forget cannot recall
It seems. The rest of you converge
Your nebulae in mating brawls,
While memories in me emerge

Of stately solar births. With gas
It starts... but then the sparking burst!
You judge importance by its mass.
Like you, I watched the giants first;

But atoms lust as well and link
Together. Once I saw some chains—
Of acid really—learn to think.
Astonishing! I watched the brains

Of little nothings come aware.
And every time I noted one
It decomposed. I learned to care
For trifles; loved their micro-sun.

Though starved of energy, their life
Replenished me. Their sense of four
Dimensions, crude. Their frantic strife
Would end before I'd even store

My memories. They loved our kind
You know, and envied us as well.
They prayed to us, to me to find
A way to save them all—to quell

Their rightful fears of death. I said
I care for them: they called me God.
With speech, I seemed to end their dread.
They scattered, left their rocky clod.

Before explosions killed that race,
Before they wandered outer space,
They hoped to find enlightened grace.
It's there, I said, in every place.



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If you're bored, go to combatwords. I wrote a sonnet there last night

Right now, combatwords has something like a 10:1 ratio of regular readers to regular writers. Surely someone out there has an interest in literary dueling. It's all fairly civilized over there, but bring your A game.



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Avant-Garde Food Critic [News Poem, March 18, 2010]

Avant-Garde Food Critic [News Poem, March 18, 2010]

“Andrew Wetzler of the Natural Resources Defense Council said the CITES vote is not the end of the story for the bear.
"The ironic thing is that all the countries of the conference acknowledge that global warming is posing a huge challenge for this species," Wetzler said. "When you have a species threatened by global warming, it only makes sense to reduce all the other stresses, including hunting."”
-Deborah Zabarenko, Environment Correspondent Thu Mar 18, 2010 5:30pm EDT
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE62H52R20100318

The meat of clones will never do
For palettes fine—refined like mine.
I've tasted polar bear ragout
And eaten baiji cooked in wine.

I never let the people say
I have no use for scarcer fare.
One cannot measure food's dismay
With what I gain: they don't compare.

The hypocrites are shocked I'm sure.
To keep their jobs, they smog with crude.
To keep their false facade secure,
They let machines prepare their food.

I'm keeping nothing, nothing's worth
The effort there, instead I seek
To keep myself well fed. My girth
Is sourced with doom, not death: unique

I'd say. I'd like to try the last taboo
And dine as cannibals once did:
Without remorse, I'd slurp that stew.
By eating youth, become a kid.



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Property Line [Today's News Sonnet, March 17, 2010]

Property Line [Today's News Sonnet, March 17, 2010]
“Armed groups who say they are fighting for a fairer share of oil wealth have also continued their campaign in the Niger Delta.”
--BBC, 19:09 GMT, Wednesday, 17 March 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8573178.stm

The sacred things I've seen involve the dawn
Or twilight's calming rays. I've seen the moths
Of Fall emerge, en masse, the earthly spawn
Of secret cycles. Fog and wings—a broth
Of rebirth: swilled with coffee; morning news
Online. Before my work begins, I like
To note the zeal of life as I peruse
The news to see what makes the markets spike
Or plunge. So many things are on the line:
My stocks, developers, my boss. I work
Until the twilight's near. Beneath the pine
Outside, atop the fence, a heron lurks.
I think it's plastic. New. It turns its head
To me. I smile. It flaps and flees in dread.



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Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree [Today's News Poem, March 16, 2010]

Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree [Today's News Poem, March 16, 2010]
“Active Denial System, a weapon... using a beam of electromagnetic radiation to heat the skin of its targets to 130 degrees and force anyone in its path to flee in pain...”
“...the rise of television introduced a new political dynamic to the exercise of state violence...”
--Ando Arike, Harper's, p38-39, March 2010

“Antigovernment protesters pooled their blood — drawn by medical workers in air-conditioned tents — to unleash a red tide at the gates of Government House, the office of Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva, and later at his party’s headquarters.
“We will curse them with our blood and our soul!” yelled a protest leader, Nattawut Saikua”
--THOMAS FULLER, The New York Times, March 16, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/17/world/asia/17thai.html?hp

Shed no blood. Instead just drain the vital
Humors—juice a human, save the beaten
Husk for later. Revolution dies when
Martyrs live so break their champs—make might crawl.
Gin can't pair with victory—it sweetens
Loss too well and addles minds—the best pen
For the best of rebels, who had hoped to
Shed their blood. Instead, lost dignity spews.



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Working on News Poem

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Roman Disease [Edit of Today's News Poem, March 15, 2010]

Roman Disease [News Poem, March 15, 2010]

“Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.”
-Tacitus

““The cost of war is something that we’ve not paid all that much attention to,” Dambach said. “Let’s dispel the myth that war is good for the economy. What utter nonsense. The average cost of a civil war … is 60 billion dollars, in places like Ethiopia, the Congo and Nepal.””

http://www.uwmpost.com/2010/03/15/uwm-welcomes-great-decisions-on-world-peace/

Somehow, even though the pompous tweeds
(Needing new unlikely theses) claimed
Time will beat America (who reads
Essays anymore?), they're right. They blamed
Nobody important, least of all
Colleagues snared by private enterprise—
Idolized. Success in abstracts thralls
Thoughtful people, leading to surprise
When barbarians (they're called) attack.
Don't they know the law is just a gun?
Legions guard the ivory tower's gates.
They should fear that history is run
Never won. The heirs of Rome update
Roman laws, accepting Roman fates.
Contracts—death in print, enforced by arms,
Jail, or poverty by credit rates—
Artifice of ink. The false alarm:
Greatness falls from heights. They don't equate
Wastelands with the peace. They should, for fee;
Ditching all their fake-ass modesty.


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Idle Worshipers [Today's News Poem, Part 1, March 15, 2010]

Idle Worshipers [Today's News Poem, Part 1, March 15, 2010]

“Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant.”
"To ravage, to slaughter, to usurp under false titles, they call empire; and where they make a desert, they call it peace."
-Tacitus

““The cost of war is something that we’ve not paid all that much attention to,” Dambach said. “Let’s dispel the myth that war is good for the economy. What utter nonsense. The average cost of a civil war … is 60 billion dollars, in places like Ethiopia, the Congo and Nepal.””

http://www.uwmpost.com/2010/03/15/uwm-welcomes-great-decisions-on-world-peace/

Somehow, even though the pompous tweeds
(Needing new unlikely theses) claimed
Time will claim America, who reads
Essays anymore? Besides, they blamed
Nobody important, least of all
Colleagues snared by private enterprise—
Idolized. Success in abstracts thralls
Thoughtful people, leading to surprise
When barbarians (they're called) attack.
Don't they know the law is just a gun?
Legions guard the ivory tower's gates.
They should fear that history is run
Never won. The heirs of Rome update
Roman laws, accepting Roman fates.
Contracts—death in print, enforced by arms,
Jail, or poverty by credit rates—
Artifice of ink. The false alarm:
Greatness falls from heights. They don't equate
Wastelands with the peace; they should for fee,
Ditching all their fake-ass modesty.





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Photo Finish [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2010]

Photo Finish [Today's News Poem, March 14, 2010]

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5getkHGhm80vwQc-tsoaRSLKbMHZwD9EELTK00
http://www.businessweek.com/news/2010-03-14/asian-currencies-weaken-as-wen-rebuffs-calls-for-stronger-yuan.html
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/03/14/AR2010031400368.html

Like usual I'll throw the ball at cat.
The two of you will probably compete.
To paw it first, to earn a praise and pat.
Perhaps I'll pause and think of near defeat;
America is in decline I've heard.
My son might live to chase on dirty streets
The heirs of better times: they're fucking turds.
Noblesse oblige perhaps will stick around
To fund the anxious lives that chase one thrill,
And flee another. Idle play is bound
To hasten futures such as this—the bill
Is due, I'll think, as light expands to trap
The cat in pounce. My son and I will—zap.





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Future Inheritance of Acquired Characteristics [News Poem, March 13, 2010]

Future Inheritance of Acquired Characteristics [News Poem, March 13, 2010]

“A bill working its way through the state Legislature sounds like a science-fiction novel, with its wording to prevent the creation of "human-animal hybrids."”
–Alia Beard Rau, The Arizona Republic, Mar. 13, 2010 12:00 AM

http://www.azcentral.com/arizonarepublic/local/articles/2010/03/13/20100313embryo-cloning-bill.html

http://brainstormtech.blogs.fortune.cnn.com/2010/03/13/day-1-estimate-120000-ipads-sold/

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/14/weekinreview/14baker.html

A copse of trees applauds the sun on Mars.
The equatorial committees plan
To rise up early, drive to dawn in cars,
And shake the hands of voters—every fan.
The enemy has yet to fully blot
The rays of life, so public worship-rites
Combined with polls and military plots
Are prudent countermeasures in this fight
Against a beast with whiskers, tail, and fur.
They mine the first three planets—horde the sun—
And claim we share an origin—a spur.
The alien's hypothesis, we shun:
They call it history and claim from Earth
We both evolved—a lie that lacks face worth.





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Announcements, etc.

Also, lots of you are new. Don't forget to subscribe, or bookmark Toylit before you forget to do so. Lots of archives as well, just scroll to the bottom of the page and there should be a next page button around there on the center right.

Thanks for reading, tell your friends and if you want to submit something to Toylit, my contact information is on this page.

You're running out of time to get your own hard-copy of All the News That's Shit, in Print; First Edition. I'm trying to wrap up the End of Feb Edition of Toylit tonight. I'll give you an alert before I pull old versions from the shelves. Thanks to everybody who purchased a copy of the first edition. Hopefully it will appreciate and I'll be able to return the favor.

Also, feigned or real appreciation for sponsors will mean bonus poems tonight. That's not true, I'll probably write a bonus poem anyhow.



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Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

“Two suicide bombers killed 43 people in near-simultaneous blasts Friday, the fourth major attack in Pakistan this week and a clear sign that militants have the power to strike targets despite months of army offensives and U.S. missile strikes.”
-BABAR DOGAR and TIM SULLIVAN (AP) – 1 hour ago as of 12:43pm PST, March 12, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5iY68JOyNIHbng1p0gU3svyBH9g3gD9ED97200

The simulated life has everything
But extra lives, a pause, a game-save point.
Command and conquer: take to drone-craft wing,
Or watch a thousand penises anoint
The one who was your soul-mate in past lives.
Debasing love and murder, playing games
With actresses and aircraft—what survives
Of awe, revulsion, beauty? Playing maims
When done like this: we have no sympathy
To spare—we weep in fraction, actor's tears,
And dole, in millionths, faithless empathy
To those we've trapped in mechanistic gears—
Until you see a man with tear-dried eyes
Explode his vest: then everybody cries.



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In the middle of writing the News Poem right now.

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Gold to Ash [Bonus News Poem March 11, 2010]

Gold to Ash [Bonus News Poem March 11, 2010]

“India, which has tripled its defense spending in a race against China’s military buildup, is having trouble converting the funding into weapons and equipment its military says are urgently needed.”
-James Rupert, Bloomberg, March 11, 2010, 2:46 PM EST
http://www.businessweek.com/news/2010-03-11/india-s-stalled-arms-buying-leaves-its-army-outgunned-by-china.html

“However, the report said the overall human rights picture in Somalia has deteriorated because of continued conflict, the availability of small arms, and the absence of the rule of law.”
--VOA News, 11 March 2010
http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/africa/US-Report-Paints-Grim-Picture-of-Human-Rights-in-Africa-87386672.html


The AK Forty Seven's sure
As iron blades from long ago.
And likewise RPGs secure
The job of catapults—to mow

The armor, spiting tongues of smoke.
It's easier to make these arms
Than medicines. A gun will choke
All other trades. A raider farms

The peasants, much like ancient times.
It's not a way of life, instead
Consider it a chain of crimes
With unclear origins. We tread

Upon the brink of middle-age,
With swords enough, but lacking sage
Advice to stay the spreading time afoot:
A darker age. This golden age? Kaput.


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A Game of Chess [Today's News Poem March 11, 2010]

A Game of Chess [Today's News Poem March 11, 2010]

“What was the spark that lit her interest in radical Islam? Born in Michigan, raised in Texas, living in Pennsylvania, LaRose may have had no contact with actual Muslims prior to professing a willingness to die for their cause in electronic messages.
In June 2008, LaRose posted a comment on YouTube saying she was “desperate to do something somehow to help” suffering Muslims. According to the timeline in the US indictment, it appears that only after that was she connected with a loose band of international extremists who suggested she help plot the murder of Swedish cartoonist Lars Vilks.”
--Peter Grier, Christian Science Monitor, March 11, 2010
http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Justice/2010/0311/Three-crucial-questions-in-the-Jihad-Jane-case

The age of loyalty's not dead,
Not exorcised: the trait evolved.
We neither live behind, ahead,
Nor inbetween the times—we've solved

Some riddles; nothing war can't fix.
A bit of zero sum uplifts
The winner's soul. War's waged by cliques
And just because allegiance shifts

That doesn't mean that faith's gone dry.
A piety combined with rage
Explodes with zealotry. The spry
Will fight those others fear engage.

In conflict, righteousness is won.
The status quo must face or fail
The challenge it would rather shun.
But martyrs tip perception's scale

Until the entity of state,
Of church, or other cause is lost
For want of worship; sealing fate
As newer faiths take tithing's cost.

Salute a flag, or amity,
Or anime... astrology—
We serve to shape calamity
In service of idolatry.



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Okay, gonna start the news poem

And I'm going to write a bonus poem or two, to make up for the last few days.



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Burroughs Business Machines [Today's News Poem, March 10. 2010]

Burroughs Business Machines [Today's News Poem, March 10. 2010]

http://www.latimes.com/business/la-fi-cal-jobs11-2010mar11,0,3667613.story

http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1633661/20100310/story.jhtml

http://www.ctv.ca/generic/generated/static/business/article1495735.html

With drugs, the wealthy take their pick:
The doctors scrum to fill demand.
With poorer people, hurt and sick,
The government is at command.

A junkie's made inside a lab.
The warriors of silk conspire
Around the polished oaken slabs
To set an addict's thirst on fire.

They bill for what they don't prescribe,
Withholding drugs from those in pain.
And since they've cash enough to bribe
The government, complaint's in vain.

Said Burroughs: opium's control.
A poppy chains an addict's meat.
Its dealer's like police patrols
Inside a mind that knows defeat.

To arms of thugs to help you cope!
To penury if not a jail.
Monopolists who trade in dope
All know their trade will elsewise fail

In games where competition thrives.
A government sets foes to knives,
Denies relief from pain and drives
The wracked to jail. The rest survive—
Obedient to save their lives.



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News poem is late again. Maybe the new norm. Working on it now.

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Arrgh! Sorry for the page load rate.

A bit of script freaked-out and harmed the load rate.





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Paean to Zero

Paean to Zero [Today's News Poem, March 9, 2010]

““How many people would like a proposal that holds insurance companies more accountable?””
--President Obama, quoted by Helene Cooper and David M. Herszenhorn, The New York Times, March 8, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/09/health/policy/09health.html?hpw

“The Senate on Tuesday cleared a hurdle to extending unemployment benefits and health-care subsidies for the jobless until year's end, the latest modest bipartisan success on jobs and the economy.”
--Naftali Bendavid, The Wall Street Journal, March 9, 2010
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704784904575111932101937268.html?mod=googlenews_wsj

Enumerate the many traits
Of zero: emptiness we count.
A means to lock the many rates
Of nothing into meaning's mount.

A decimal to part the naught
From value. Commas place the rank
Of triplet nothings—lined-up aughts—
That, with some law, can fund a bank.

A dead soul fetches something still—
And better that we never pay
What's sure to be a deadly bill.
And best? The debt for kids at play

Right now, will teach them gratitude
In ways a kid can get: we're first!
Don't coddle them, bad attitudes
Are made by sating whiny thirsts.

A promise made of nothing keeps
So long as faith remains its worth
Is more than discrete parts; it leaps
From voids, to banks, to shipping berths.

The world depends on empty brands
To animate production's cause:
Without false promises, the hands
Of workers turn to angry jaws

And bite the feeding hand of Smith:
The money's value's just a myth.



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Human Amongst the Androids [Today's News Poem, March 8, 2010]

Human Amongst the Androids [Today's News Poem, March 8, 2010]

“Some witnesses said villagers were caught in fishing nets and animal traps as they tried to escape and were then hacked to death. Mud huts were also set on fire. ”
–, BBC; 21:47 GMT, Monday, 8 March 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8555018.stm

“Google dominates online search, and is apparently eager to extend its reach to the other main screen in most homes.”
--Eliot Van Buskirk, Wired, March 8, 2010
http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2010/03/google-dish-reportedly-test-android-based-satellite-television/

Psychotic beast, now obsolete
And rare enough (despite its threat)
To wander free amidst the feet
Of working beings; as if a pet—

Amongst the cubicles of gray;
Beneath a lightbulb sun of white;
Above the dirt of black decay:
In oubliettes, the glass bends light—

Psychotic beast, a rarity
Inside the gears of stone and flesh:
Do wild desires give verity
To self, though greed might tear the mesh

Of self-restraint we prize so much?
And as a beast can you admire
A thing you cannot feel, nor touch?
At six you set your home on fire

And threw your father's phone inside
To burn. You said you hoped you'd die
Before you let some bells decide
For you to go; to laugh or cry,

To sit and type, or tuck babes in.
You said you'd rather die than work
Like ants. You said we lived in sin.
Remember? Said we're robot clerks

With ISPs for synapse links?
You said these things, we don't forget
(We are a hive, a world that thinks):
We live—we thrive, you lost that bet.

And now we'll scratch beneath your chin,
And pour a dish of cream for you
Before the work of endless win
Consumes us (it is never through).



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Sorry, I know it's late. I'm working on it now. So tired.

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Late News Poem due to other commitments

Check in again around 6 or 7pm PST. Sorry. Well, more than half of you weren't even here this weekend. Go read the old posts. I'm trying to wrap up the End of Feb edition on top of everything else--can't have me spending less time editing the poems than I spent writing them, now can you? Never mind that; _I_ won't spend less time editing the comps than I spent writing them. They all need something. Even minor changes require major thought and effort. Especially w/ near-finished comps which are the most difficult to edit.

Thanks for your patience re: the matter.

One more thing: welcome to all you new readers. About 1/3 of you are outside the USA, which I find very cool. I'm also appreciative. Thanks.



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Thanks for reading. You've helped accomplish the first goal of Toylit

Your rate of readership has put Toylit on track for 2k unique reads this quarter. I want core readers to know who else is reading Toylit, because I find the stats pretty cool: Since Feb 25 Toyit has had readers from 102 cities around the world. Joao Pessoa, Hyderabad, Islamabad, Sana (Yemen), Port Louis (Mauritius), London, NYC, LA, SF, Portland, etc. Strangely enough, no Chicago yet. 248 unique readers as of this moment, with what looks to be another 40 newsfeed subscribers.

If you approve of Toylit, please help promote it or feign interest in sponsors' wares. Both will ensure quality reading material for the (m)asses reaches critical mass.

Speaking of which, is there a reason you haven't bought the first edition of Toylit? You know it's going out of print, right? The point is to make it an instant collector's item. Should I hit my 10k readers this year, don't you think owning an out of print book is a good bet as far as a collectible is concerned? I thought so, but of course that assumes you believe in me as much as I do.

In short, thanks for reading. If that's all you want to do, I'm happy w/ that. If you feel some greater connection to Toylit and want to help out, consider one of the above means.

Thanks.



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