Subscribe to Toylit

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

Chance Encounter With Brain Meat [Today's News Poem, June 1, 2010]

Chance Encounter With Brain Meat [Today's News Poem, June 1, 2010]

You're slipping. Your balance is missing. The sidewalk
Is taking your chances—you're sliding. A moment
Of doubt and then nothingness. Lying with mittens
In snow, you can't laugh, but it's funny. You hurried
And got here without all the waiting. And twitching
Reptilian parts of your brain can yet listen
To cars on the salt on the snow on the roadway.
You fart as the last of the winter is melting
With springtime; releasing the odor of dinner
For creatures that linger long after your body's
Been frozen—your assets gone liquid—and only
The scavengers feed off your memory's tissue.

“A preschool-aged child was killed and four people injured at rush hour this afternoon when a sputtering light plane heading west from Merrill Field clipped a rooming house then crashed into an unoccupied car dealership at Seventh Avenue and Ingra Street, setting the building ablaze.”
– JIM HALPIN, MEGAN HOLLAND and LISA DEMER, Anchorage Daily News, June 1st, 2010 06:59 PM
http://www.adn.com/2010/06/01/1303320/five-hurt-as-plane-hits-car-dealership.html

Subscribe in a reader

Threatened Species [Twitter Found Poem, June 1, 2010]

Threatened Species [Twitter Found Poem, June 1, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Goodbye cruel Forest.
Goodbye Sea. agricultural fires threaten you
for our consumption.
Get me the oil...

this couldnt be dangerous.
my Fire Hunting boat sure looks safe.
Birds and Sea Creatures
play mind games
but I make you hear and obey.
you Are leading me to a cave with oil...

Are you threatening me?
GIANT cats and cockroaches love pouncing
Out Of The Water and breaking my boat!!!

the next pre-apocalyptic disaster games:
Birds, unicorns and Sea Creatures Hunting humans.
Are They Hunting me?
Somebody help me please!
Get me out! Get my lawyer
now! don't feed me to the cockroaches!
I'll give it all back!!!

Subscribe in a reader

Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial For Vagrants [Today's News Poem, May 31, 2010]

Memorial For Vagrants [Today's News Poem, May 31, 2010]

The windows are shattered. The vagrants are haunted:
They're stray silhouettes in the alleys, betraying
The layers of darkness that linger this graveyard
Of wealth. And the playgrounds were filled with the children
Of workers. And now they are filled with the lurkers
And drunkards: their stories, too scary for movies.
The living? Who honors the living? Who follows
The losers not planted with markers and statues?
Who builds a memorial, praising the triumphs,
Or mourns for the losses a slide or a window
That carried the children with sand in their footwear
From heights to the depths. And the gardens were smiling,
The plum trees were fragrant. The rosemary blossomed.
The sidewalk was even. It carried the tiny
And precious embodiments love and compassion
Can cultivate. Grown and he's desperate for money—
For anything. Pushing a cart with his blanket,
With photos of happier memories: fading
And lacking memorial—save for the spirits
Of children who played once with sand and now needles,
On playgrounds forgotten—he notices something.
A sign from the city. It's closing. They're fixing
The structures. They'll clean up the shards in the sandbox.
A sign in the weeds says “For sale by foreclosure,”
In front of the house where the windows are broken.

“Black middle-class neighborhoods are hollowed out, with prices plummeting and homes standing vacant in places like Orange Mound, White Haven and Cordova. As job losses mount — black unemployment here, mirroring national trends, has risen to 16.9 percent from 9 percent two years ago; it stands at 5.3 percent for whites — many blacks speak of draining savings and retirement accounts in an effort to hold onto their homes. The overall local foreclosure rate is roughly twice the national average.”
– Michael Powell, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/31/business/economy/31memphis.html?hp
“Yet for this young interrogator detachment was not ultimately a viable solution: “I know I am the same person who was doing those things. And that’s what tears at your soul.””
– Nancy Sherman, Opinionator, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/05/30/a-crack-in-the-stoic-armor/?ref=opinion
Subscribe in a reader

Today is Hey Dude Day [Twitter Found Poem, May 31, 2010]

Today is Hey Dude Day [Twitter Found Poem, May 31, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

“Hey Dude, Today is "Hey Dude...Watch This!!!!!!!" day.
"What's this button do?"
hit the brakes now!
oh shit Today is quit life day.
I think Im going to heaven ...
BUT the weather looks bad.

oh no!!!!!!! Today is also "oh shit
I deleted the weather" day.
Today is also Hurricanes and Oil Spill day.
my Ghost is flying to heaven ...
my Ghost is hit now! !!!!!!!
sharp-edged rocks were flying around!!!!!!!
quick, clone me now!
if I'm frozen...today
I'll give you My Treasure.
The real amazing thing is My Treasure
is made out of Hurricanes and Oil Spill.
Today is "Hey Dude, clone me now!” day.
My Treasure is buried ........”

*dies*

Subscribe in a reader

Sunday, May 30, 2010

In Search of Auto-Oasis [Today's News Poem, May 30, 2010]

In Search of Auto-Oasis [Today's News Poem, May 30, 2010]

A limit's been reached—and the world is not endless.
We're waiting for someone to make the next movement.
We're driving—I'm driving. My purpose seems aimless.
Relief isn't coming, I'm chasing, I'm hellbent

To plow through the challenges: seeking and fleeing
Affliction and cure. The transmission is failing.
The car disassembles on freeway. I'm seeing
If somehow I'll make it—momentum—by sailing

And hoping I'll pass by an expert who's waiting
To master my recklessness. One who's negating
Authority paves me a road to the ocean.
I follow to prove I have faith and devotion.

“The chance that some oil will continue to leak for months was underscored by the managing director of BP, Robert Dudley, who described plans to put in place a second version of a containment dome, a strategy that failed earlier this month. Mr. Dudley, speaking on ABC’s “This Week” program, said that attempt had given the company’s engineers valuable lessons that would be applied to the new dome. But he added that even if it worked, some oil would seep out until the relief wells provided an “end point” by cutting off the flow beneath the seabed.”
– Joseph Berger and Leslie Kaufman, The New York Times, May 30, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/31/us/31spill.html?hp

Subscribe in a reader

The Home Stretch [Twitter Found Poem, May 30, 2010]

The Home Stretch [Twitter Found Poem, May 30, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

Wave that green flag again!
4 WIDE down the front stretch
Dario, Helio, Briscoe, bus...
i hate when a bus goes too fast. like
102 mph and falls into a ditch.

the tank explodes. 30 passengers, including 10 children
burn to death. Wouldn't they build a tank anticipating that #nascar
might be shooting at it? anticipating that oil spill nightmare! ?

The Memorial Day Weekend is dedicated to remembering
passengers... including children
who have paid the ultimate sacrifice for this
wonderful....DANGEROUS so called life
so our fear and hate country could be what it is today:
a bursting mortar shell.

Subscribe in a reader

Wacchu Talkin Bout Skinner? [Guest News Prose, May 30, 2010, by Arnold Jackson]

Wacchu Talkin Bout Skinner? [Guest News, May 30, 2010]
By Arnold Jackson

And the red-haired clown came up to Jim Skinner, brandishing those six or seven photographs taken in the late 1980s.  If he had even the smallest flair for dramatics, he might have said, “Extremely good composition, Mr. Skinner, don’t you agree?”  But the clown wanted to get down to business, and simply said, “You probably remember this dead hooker in your bathtub, Mr. Skinner, don’t you?”  From a medical point of view, it was fascinating to watch the cognitive become discretely palpable, just thirty seconds from puzzled brow to pallid glare.  But from an ethical point of view, it was truly a masterpiece.  They say that the Marlboro man, before he kicked the bucket, spent the last few months taking his sweet revenge, by smoking Lucky Strikes in public, right out of his tracheotomy hole.  But the red-haired clown had a whole lot more bad karma than the Marlboro man.  After all, not that many seven year olds had a fit because their mothers wouldn’t give them a light.  The clown had introduced six hundred million schoolchildren to colon cancer and type-13 diabetes, and he had a real bad case of the really bad conscience, and he needed a more elevated form of revenge than walking into a Wendy’s in his trademark clown suit, and stuffing his face in the window with Wendy’s nummy snatch, or whatever they call that chicken sandwich over there.  “Listen, you’ve got it all wrong,” said the gray-faced CEO, in the coolest voice he could muster.  For a moment, the red-haired clown thought that Skinner was willing to be reasonable.  But he just launched into all the predictable pablum about how times were changing, it was nothing personal, it’s me, it’s not you, yada yada, business mumbo jumbo, graphs, charts, Chinese economic patterns, whatever.  The clown sat there, listening patiently, arms crossed, leaning back in the executive-style ergonomic bucket chair, with his extra-long shoes up on Skinner’s desk.  When the CEO was done with his spiel, the red-haired clown simply snorted.  “And now that I’m old and fat, you’re going to terminate my contract?  I don’t think so, Mr. Skinner.”  After he’d spoken, the clown stuffed the photographs back into the manila envelope.  When Ronald McDonald left the room, Skinner remained seated at his enormous jade desk, absently fingering a paperweight made from the skull of one of earliest Ronald McDonalds.  He didn’t like being forced into this particular business decision.  But it just might work, he said to himself.  By the church of L. Ron Hubbard, it just might work.  By the end of the week, the world would see the first full-length television ads of the grotesquely obese Ronald McDonald.

“Retire Ronald McDonald? No way. That's the message McDonald's Corp.'s CEO Jim Skinner gave Thursday to the red-haired clown's critics who say the cartoon promotes unhealthy eating and should go the way of the Marlboro Man and Joe Camel. ”
– (AP) – May 20, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5j1edH9lQQEYKGqv76JXbh95s9r-QD9FQQVRO1

Subscribe in a reader

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Mobius Strip [Today's News Poem, May 29, 2010]

Mobius Strip [Today's News Poem, May 29, 2010]

The bicyclist speeds down the hill. He is drinking.
He sneers as he passes me, flicking a booger
That lands at my feet and I hope—yet I don't—that
He knows of what's coming, I turn and he's crashing.

I see him. He passes from bike to the sky and
He's ground by the asphalt, then trampled by motors.
A driver is panicking. Gunning her engine
She blows through the red and she crushes a stroller.

The truck hits the train and the train hits the cars and
The limits are showing. I bet this continues
Until there's a blast so tremendous it shatters
Our glasses and blows out our brains through eye sockets.

“BP acknowledged the failure Saturday of its latest "top kill" operation to tamp down oil gushing from its blown-out well, and launched a new interim effort to contain the flow.”
– Margot Roosevelt and Louis Sahagun, Los Angeles Times, May 30, 2010 Edition
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-oil-spill-20100530,0,841698.story

Subscribe in a reader

Scream Forever You Fuckers [Twitter Found Poem, May 29, 2010]

Scream Forever You Fuckers [Twitter Found Poem, May 29, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I Sometimes wish we were a communist country
so i could see somebody getting murdered out there....
dont play victim. you talked the stock market.
Now you Are getting murdered for
making a difference: fanny pacs with patriotic colors.

another crazy ass wanted to push
kids that keep running up and down the stairs
down the stairs to have them stop!
she wanted them to shut up and die,
so she could sleep in peace....lol.

oh my GOD I WISH THIS civilization WOULD MOVE.
im DRIVEN BY DISGUST N. RESENTMENT.
im Freaking out a lil.

Murder makes a difference!
execution makes a difference!
you talked the stock market?
push you down the stairs.
you wanted to sleep in peace?
sleep in peace forever.
you just ate a baby?
I screamed. you should scream forever.
dont play victim. im DRIVEN BY
DISGUST N. RESENTMENT for U.

Subscribe in a reader

Friday, May 28, 2010

Charismatic Marine Mega-Fauna Counterattack [Today's News Poem, May 28, 2010]

Charismatic Marine Mega-Fauna Counterattack [Today's News Poem, May 28, 2010]

A whale was bombed from the beach with the fury
Of dynamite charges. Pursuing the motion,
A judge threw harpoons at another; the jury
Was foamed with the blood of the beast from the ocean.

We tread in the liquid. A courtroom reporter
Is bouncing off walls from the blast of the spouting.
The penguins and pinnipeds caught on recorder,
Are leaping from cages to tackle the shouting

Defending attorney. Their legal adviser
Extends just a briefcase to fend off attackers,
Who tear at his face with their beaks and incisors.
The splintering furniture, coated with lacquer

All roils in the courthouse. A tide can't be swelling:
Can't vanquish the dockets—can't spill in the street—
To cover the city, its people, their dwellings
With drowning—like beaches, a scene of defeat.



“Japan rebuffed a threat by Australia to take Tokyo to court over its whaling in the Antarctic, saying on Friday that the annual hunts were permitted under international law and accusing the Australian government of exploiting the issue for political gain.”
– Hiroko Tabuchi and Mark McDonald, The New York Times, May 28, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/29/world/asia/29whales.html?src=mv

Subscribe in a reader

Watching Gary Coleman Get His Angel Wings While Flying 1st Class on Devil's Airlines [Twitter Found Poem, May 28, 2010]

Watching Gary Coleman Get His Angel Wings While Flying 1st Class on Devil's Airlines [Twitter Found Poem, May 28, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

WHAT YOU TALKIN BOUT EVVVERYONE?
I had over 100K as a toddler. money was no object to me.
I was part of click (sp) 20 strong called real world inc.
I was in the core group but now I only talk to one of em.

I got drunk off sum shit called PinkLemondrops
now I work the corner of Avenue Q.
I was going to work on a movie
starring me And #GaryColeman.
now that will never happen.

I wonder what Conrad Bain thought
when he heard he died? People Didnt Even Know #garycoleman
Was Still Alive Untill He Was Dead.

I heard he was mall cop....
I heard he was trying to get his angel wings....
I heard he was Still Alive Untill He Was Dead
and nobody noticed.
lesson to be learned: quit life while people care.

when it came to making a movie while people Still care
gary coleman came up short.
& now i'm flying to hell in first class flying on devil's airlines
for making jokes on #GaryColeman.

Subscribe in a reader

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Homing Chicken, Part II [Today's News Poem May 27, 2010]

Homing Chicken, Part II [Today's News Poem May 27, 2010]

Even a chick has to break its own shell.
Hatched in a classroom, the kids call them 'peeps.'
Tending the cages for birdies to dwell,
Students observe that beneath the cute cheep,
Predators lurk. When the black one falls sick,
Siblings both bury the bird in the chips—
Wood for a grave that the yellow ones kick.
Golden like sunlight that's ready to drip
Off of a cloud that evaporates soon
After that instant. The birdlings are burned.
Death by the heater that gave them the boon—
Life and then ashes: the lesson kids learned.

“Powerful governments and political expediency are helping to perpetuate torture, war crimes and other human rights abuses around the world, Amnesty International said Thursday in its annual report.”
– Mark McDonald, The New York Times, May 27, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/28/world/28amnesty.html

“The dire impact of the massive Gulf spill was apparent Sunday on oil-soaked islands where pelicans nest as several of the birds splashed in the water and preened themselves, apparently trying to clean crude from their feet and wings.
Pelican eggs were glazed with rust-colored gunk in the bird colony, with thick globs floating on top of the water. Nests sat precariously close the mess in mangrove trees.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN and MATTHEW BROWN, The Associated Press, Sunday, May 23, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gIXWYBTpLtSayJtg41LKXpxSxVPAD9FSN9GO4

Subscribe in a reader

Hungry Horny Hippos On An Alligator Cloud [Twitter Found Poem, May 27, 2010]

Hungry Horny Hippos On An Alligator Cloud [Twitter Found Poem, May 27, 2010]

float on an alligator cloud.
win Sex with an alligator.
bite like an alligator.
it is just a game.
bite off the face of your face
and float with the cloud
to Lizard City.....

Lizard City looks like an alligator City but is coo as hell.....
on Fire like hell. Lizard City is just a cloud
on Fire like hell. go have some Sex and the City
alligator..... on an alligator cloud.
This game is called Nuclear Fire Crocodile Killer.
r u kidding me?!
it is just a game.
I killed me?!
it is just a game.
I give you an alligator cloud
for your/my face to bite off the face that feeds you/me.

the cloud Upon which I float I called
the City, before I played the game
called Nuclear Fire Crocodile Killer,
I ate like a snapping turtle like A hungry hungry HOUSE HIPPO,
I made a City on a cloud!!
I killed you/me and it is just a game.


Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

The Ancient One's Invisible Hand is a Tentacle [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 26, 2010]

Tentacles wander the fathoms; they're searching:
Grasping for nourishment, seeking possession.
Corals are crumbled and sucked by the lurching
Feelers with mouths—they've a hungry aggression.
Cold is a measure of distance. The suckers
Latch to the pebbles, atolls, to the beaches...
Grinding the islands, appendages pucker,
Kissing the nourishment flecks that it leeches.
Diving again: submerging and seeking
Treasures in castles of sand that are tended
Laxly, but helpless is better. The ekings
Animals struggle to keep are upended
With grasps from the ocean. A smothering tether
That taps its own hunger will draw all together.

“At least 44 people were said to be dead after a third day of violence in Kingston, Jamaica, as security forces assaulted the slum stronghold of armed groups believed to be defending accused Jamaican drug lord Christopher "Dudus" Coke... Much of the problem, authorities say, lies with the long-festering issue of Jamaica's criminal organizations, many centered in Kingston's shantytowns, and the rise of powerful "dons." In exchange for the community's protection of their illicit activity, these figures offer services that the government at times doesn't, such as welfare and local justice. Mr. Coke is among the most powerful of these men.”
– Joel Millman and Nicholas Casey, The Wall Street Journal, May 26, 2010, 1:54pm ET
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704717004575268253857164996.html?mod=WSJ_hpp_MIDDLENexttoWhatsNewsTop


Subscribe in a reader

You Can Pretend You Don't Know Anything About EVERYTHING But The Truth!!![Twitter Found Poem, May 26, 2010]

You Can Pretend You Don't Know Anything About EVERYTHING But The Truth!!![Twitter Found Poem, May 26, 2010]

A censor is a person who knows more
than he or she thinks he she ought to.

afraid of conversation? afraid of your perspective?
afraid of Public opinion turning against Chanel!!!?
let's fix that, mister or missus BP!!!

Permanently Delete EVERYTHING on your PC
on your oil leak. Chanel Wipes it clean.
The Net interprets censorship as damage, and routes around it.
I interpret you as the damage of Chanel!!!

Chanel routes around you, and censors
your greatest sins and tragedies.
you can Delete everything and never see
what you dont like never again.

A vain person can be a very unintelligent one!
but Double standards at their best
Permanently Delete EVERYTHING.
You can Pretend You Don't Know Anything
About EVERYTHING but the truth!!!

Subscribe in a reader

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

All Text is Born Senile [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 25, 2010]

All Text is Born Senile [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 25, 2010]

Memory locked in the cabinet's waiting...
Dust may inspect what the ledgers have hidden...
Ink has no secrets. Its lover is baiting
Curious eyes; with a body forbidden.
Paper's enticing, inert yet attractive.
Passion with posture—its poise is its mettle.
Leaping the keyboard to folders marked 'active.'
Pages are athletes before they can settle,
Aging in boxes of metal, in folders.
Lonely—they whisper their letters to strangers.
Senile from birth they confess to the holders
Memories pages recite. And the danger
Of burning: the last of the acts of the curling—
A last pirouette—and the memo is whirling!

“BP Plc told congressional investigators on Tuesday that pressure tests on a drill pipe showed a fundamental mistake hours before the deadly explosion that caused the Gulf of Mexico oil leak, a memo released by two congressmen showed.”
– Timothy Gardner editing by Philip Barbara and Bill Trott, Reuters, Wed May 26, 2010 12:26am EDT
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE64P0JS20100526?feedType=RSS&feedName=topNews

Subscribe in a reader

I'm My Own Bitch Now [Twitter Found Poem, May 25, 2010]

I'm My Own Bitch Now [Twitter Found Poem, May 25, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

You've wasted your life.
I was gonna be ur bitch
and get away with it.
I really dnt feel bad now..
i was gunna type my number
in your motorola flip phone
and get away with it. forget yall.
today was Geek Pride Day.
I dnt have to do anything for you.
My inner geek is starving for a Star
Wars shirt, Superman undies,
comics and Baldur's Gate.
Well, that explains a lot.
I really dnt feel bad now.
I was gonna be ur bitch
But now i'm My own inner geek BITCH!!

Subscribe in a reader

Monday, May 24, 2010

Uranium Fruit [Today's News Poem, May 24, 2010]

Uranium Fruit [Today's News Poem, May 24, 2010]

I am aching. The fullness of what
I've become is unstable and soon
I'll expand and fulfill the design
That the makers—who mined and then cut
Me for centrifuge—spun as a boon
From my essence. To them I define
The philosophy stones can command.
You may call me forbidden—the fruit
From a tree, but I'm nothingness. Dense,
I'm a paragon, truly, of grand
Aspirations. To horde, not to shoot.
As a treasure, I'm vaulted and tense
For the trigger—the launch—I am fissile:
The epiphany waits in a missile.

“A Defense Department spokesman in Washington, Bryan Whitman, said the naval exercises would be conducted “in the near future” and would be aimed at improving the ability of South Korea and the United States to detect enemy submarines and halt banned shipments of nuclear materials. The announcement was the Pentagon’s first concrete response in the escalating tensions between North and South Korea over what South Koreans have called the deliberate sinking by the North of one of their warships two months ago.”
– Choe Sang-Hun and Thom Shanker, The New York Times, May 24, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/25/world/asia/25korea.html

“The United States will review Iran's proposal to ship enriched uranium to Turkey and plans to consult with France and Russia on the next steps, the U.S. State Department said Monday. ”
– Natasha Mozgovaya and DPA, Haaretz, Latest update 22:22 24.05.10
http://www.haaretz.com/news/international/u-s-to-review-iran-uranium-swap-proposal-1.292026

Subscribe in a reader

No Reincarnation for Zombies [Twitter Found Poem, May 24, 2010]

No Reincarnation for Zombies [Twitter Found Poem, May 24, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

There is rarely a time when I am not agonizing.
a kitten and a white rat were lovers.
THE white rat said he'd pay for half an abortion,
so he gave THE kitten a hard punch
and OUT came a white mouse.
which was eaten by THE white rat.

I remember when I was not agonizing
with karmic illness. a LONG time ago.
It was like a natural disaster,
a trip to zombie land.
I had to conform, caught in a State of Emergency
with government ninjas. They HAVE ALWAYS SAID
WAIT UNTILL They give the waddyasay.
They HAVE ALWAYS SAID
YOU HAVE one life, one #.
YOU are caught in a State of Emergency.
So don't die.

I had quit my job.
I had to Kidnap me to make me happy.
I skipped town & got a new #.
I had to be reborn.
zombie friends from this life
might become strangers in future life.
or might not be reborn...

Who were they? THE kitten & white rat??
friends from a past life??
and the white mouse??
my Child in a future life??

Subscribe in a reader

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Centrifugal Force [Today's News Poem, May 23, 2010]

Centrifugal Force [Today's News Poem, May 23, 2010]

Whose excess of faith is intact?
Whose coffee in paper is cupped
In fists that can cradle a fact
And comfort and never erupt

With more than a protest. We sip
And gushers of plenty fulfill
Demands on the harnessed. We grip
The planet so tightly we spill

Some drops in to space—where it's gas
That dissipates—following prayers
From earlier eras and pass
Away from our grip. And our heirs

Already are losing their bond
With ancestors flying away—
I'm drifting to edges beyond
The limits. I'm watching them spray

The surface of earth. They ignite
The clouds and the birds all collapse.
The oceans are burning new light
Like stars or the sun or perhaps

Like embers of paper in heaps
They lit with our excrement, books.
And farther we drift as they reap—
I think— the whole orb. There it cooks.

“Saying BP has "from day one, frankly not fulfilled the mission it was supposed to fulfill," Interior Secretary Ken Salazar expressed frustration Sunday with the delay in stopping an underwater oil gusher 33 days after an oil rig exploded and sank in the Gulf of Mexico.
"I have no question that BP is throwing everything at the problem," Salazar said. "Do I have confidence that they know exactly what they're doing? No."
But he and other federal officials likened the task to an "Apollo 13" mission.”
– CNN Wire Staff, CNN, May 23, 2010 -- Updated 1933 GMT (0333 HKT)
http://edition.cnn.com/2010/US/05/23/oil.spill.response/

Subscribe in a reader

Guidance System by @LordBeelzebub [Twitter Found Poem, May 23, 2010]

Guidance System by @LordBeelzebub [Twitter Found Poem, May 23, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

ridin a skateboard on the freeway
On my way back from the forest.
an old volvo driving 95 flies past me.
Car next to me swerving.
I see she is texting
her @LordBeelzebub .

On the highway headin to cleveland
We are all lost.
some seek guidance
from a missile.
Others look for Jesus.
I'm looking for the money tree.

Car next to me gives me
AN ugly look. is the look I have on my face
the look of AN angry face?
I thought I had a common-sense-laden, ugly face.

@LordBeelzebub texts her back.
she gives me AN *evil smile*
she *pulls out pistol & shoots*
at my ugly face.
She swerves into me.
i'm bleeding to death.
she takes so long to kill me
before she takes my map...
my skateboard...
my face...
she is going to get her soul
recharged by the money tree.
I won't Die in the hospital.
I Die On the highway.

Subscribe in a reader

Friday, May 21, 2010

From Transcendental Idealism to Materialism [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 21, 2010]

From Transcendental Idealism to Materialism [Today's News Poem (Sonnet), May 21, 2010]

From superstrings, to skeins of life, the strands
Are tangled. Caught between effects and cause,
They snarl together: knotted into bands.
Shall combination serve the final laws
Of flux? Where epicycles meet at last—
With Einstein, Bohr—if not in flesh, then mind?
Remake the world: a mold from human cast.
Induction meets deduction—both designed
To meet the middle totem: merging thought
With measurement. We make autonomous
And yet connected, everything we've wrought,
Imagined. Otherwise anonymous,
Our nightmares harmonize with cosmic spheres—
Made live through our homogenizing gears.

“Bioethicists have reacted with caution to the announcement that scientists in the US have created the first synthetic living cell. Dr Craig Venter's team announced their landmark discovery in Science magazine. They have succeeded in transplanting synthetic DNA for a bacterium into a host cell. But what are the ethical implications of their discovery?”
– BBC, 13:56 GMT, Friday, 21 May 2010 14:56 UK
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science_and_environment/10138831.stm

Subscribe in a reader

Kentucky Stir-Fried Pigeon [Twitter Found Poem, May 21, 2010]

Kentucky Stir-Fried Pigeon [Twitter Found Poem, May 21, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

I went to KFC. fuck me.
Now I have gas. Grossssssss!!!
BUT McDonalds Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut
IS MAKIN me SHIT!!!
OVERALL THIS Freedom is the very source
of creativity for both individuals and society.

A lot of people have nice cars, but only a few people have gas.
fuck me. Most people have gas
from fast food and OIL
WARS WARS WARS.
Most people have food
from fast food WARS.

Freedom is the very source
of WARS WARS WARS.
isnt that the #1 perk to this office nonsense?
endless war cookies??

trynna figure out how things got so far outta hand??
your fat ASS. Grossssssss!!!
If I had any food, OIL, nice cars,
OR video games... instead of pumping gas
from my ASS, Refining it and driving
their nice cars with it...
If I were a pigeon OR a Chicken
OR a gorgeous foreign girl with an amazing set of eyes,
a street walking cheetah with a heart full of napalm
would launch nuclear missiles
and Kentucky stir-fry my ASS
Grossssssss!!!

Subscribe in a reader

Warning: No Toylit For Tomorrow, May 22

Subscribe in a reader

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Cosmos of Flesh [News Poem, May 20, 2010]

Cosmos of Flesh [News Poem, May 20, 2010]

You wake from your slumber. You're thirsty and sweating.
You're stiff in the spine and the hips as you hobble
To fill up your belly with water to placate
The jailor who hijacks your dreams of what? Riches?
Of love? You're an idiot, hoping that nothing
Will change, but it does! And your cradle, your bedroom
Can't save you from gnashing your teeth with the knowledge
Of withering. Sleep is no refuge, nor willful
Forgetting the rescue you crave. In the flushing
Of blood, in the flow of the cells—in the circuit
Of life—you are pregnant with microbes, the mother
Of fragments of mystery. Symbiotes lurking
The chambers of colons, of sinus, of eyelash
Are seeking a balance, by coming together
In Eden inside you; be fearless, not fearful—
Connect to the cosmos of flesh: you will perish.

“The US Human Microbiome Project has sequenced the genomes of 178 members of the community of microbes that calls the human body home.”
– Heidi Ledford, Nature.com, May 20, 2010
http://www.nature.com/news/2010/100520/full/news.2010.254.html?s=news_rss

Subscribe in a reader

A Pretty Cool Psychic Guy [Twitter Found Poem, May 20, 2010]

A Pretty Cool Psychic Guy [Twitter Found Poem, May 20, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

New Mechanism for psychic Dominance over matter:
search for the swaggnificence within your self.
If you really want to destroy a mind,
Meditate for 5 minutes a day.
It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

Don't ever lie to me. I have a latent psychic ability.
I will Mind melt you with my geek-attack
like a Large Hadron Collider.
how is the reception for my
psychic Dominance over matter?
do you like my new music?
I call it music by a psychic Rogue Pulsar.
does it make You Crazy?
good really good.
I'm GONNA Get my OWN SHOW.
my New Mechanism for psychic Dominance over
people and amateurs.
I'm GONNA broadcast my psychic laser.
YOU GONNA hear the voice of the god particle.
I'm Large Hadron Collider. a pretty cool guy.
I searches for Higgs boson
and doesn't afraid of anything.

Subscribe in a reader

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

A Soldier Discovers the New Pastoral Dynamic [Today's News Poem, May 19, 2010]

A Soldier Discovers the New Pastoral Dynamic [Today's News Poem, May 19, 2010]

You want me to dig it? I'll dig it. Don't bury
The farmer who struggles to pay off the city.
The treasure's interred in the paddy I reckon.

I welcome you back to the earth that sustains us.
Your grave will have flowers and incense for Buddha.
My treasure, you're hidden from duties and honors;

My friend, you're a grain that is full for the harvest.
The mouths that will feed on the corn that you sprouted
Shall praise what is given from that which was taken:

Together the proxy and source—both combining
The scythe from the forge and the crop of the planet
Together—recycled like souls in the nothing.

“Thaksin, ousted in a bloodless 2006 military coup, is denounced by adversaries as Thailand's most corrupt politician. To his anti-government supporters, who set Bangkok ablaze on Wednesday, he is a savior.
Speaking from an undisclosed location, Thaksin said the crackdown on "red shirt" protesters, which killed six people and wounded 58, could degenerate into widespread violence.
"There is a theory saying a military crackdown can spread resentment and these resentful people will become guerrillas," Thaksin told Reuters as troops fought protesters in Bangkok, sparking violence in outer provinces.”
– Nopporn Wong-Anan, Reuters, Wed May 19, 2010 6:05pm EDT
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE64I5NX20100519

“Armored vehicles and snipers may win the battle to push the red-shirt protesters out of Bangkok, but the government is losing the war to hold back the course of Thailand's history. The nation's economic and social aspirations have outrun its elite-focused political institutions. The key to understanding Thailand's current conflict, which is a grim reminder of murderous confrontations between protesters and security forces in 1973, 1976 and 1992, is rural Thailand, where about two-thirds of the population lives.”
– Andrew Walker, The Wall Street Journal, Accessed online MAY 20, 2010, on May 19, 2010 at 4:26pm PST
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703691804575253720692249514.html?mod=wsj_india_main

Subscribe in a reader

Reverend Bonaparte and Reverend Einstein [Twitter Found Poem, May 19, 2010]

Reverend Bonaparte and Reverend Einstein [Twitter Found Poem, May 19, 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

If you have love and compassion towards all living beings,
then kill children and loud ugly babies...
It is outrageous that we take for granted that we kill children
for reminding us all that we are forced
to abort the children of our enemies.

kill the fucking enemy; kill kill
the fucking Baby mama; burn, burn, the motherfucker...
the Baby mama fucker to the ground.

The smell of sterilized babies
smells like My Right to Enrich me.
fewer people? You guessed It !!!

your Daughter hands me a plate with playdough
on it. "I got you some pancakes. They're made in China"
your children hands me a plate with all your treasure.
I pay my child's math teacher Reverend Einstein
and I pay Reverend Bonaparte: my child's ethics teacher.

Be careful or she Might Be my new Baby mama.
the greatest enemy of truth is Blind belief in
democracy and human rights.


Subscribe in a reader

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

From Gas to Sauce [News Poem, May 18, 2010]

From Gas to Sauce [News Poem, May 18, 2010]

You mean I could have packed
Myself inside a trunk,
And floated past the bridge?
A riptide could have pulled
Me past baleen and shells,
Along the sandy coast?
A crab to pinch my ass,
The clams to laugh at me?

And long before I'd get
Too far, I'd snag upon
The brownish-greenish kelp.
Too far from rescuers,
I'd sink below the leaves
And watch the tide possess
The bladders filled with air:
A message for my home.

“The unidentified woman was white or a light-skinned Latina and appeared to be in her 30s, police said. Her body was in the fetal position inside the case, which was found near Folsom Street and the Embarcadero about 8:45 a.m... A young child walking on the Embarcadero noticed the suitcase and alerted a relative, who called authorities...”
– Jaxon Van Derbeken, San Francisco Chronicle, May 18, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2010/05/18/BAMG1DGLO6.DTL


Subscribe in a reader

Evil Satellite of Love [Twitter Found Poem, May 18 2010]

Evil Satellite of Love [Twitter Found Poem, May 18 2010]
Tweets+Edits=#twitterfoundpoem

My day would be completely PERFECT if I Didn't
have INDOSAT crash right in front of the high school.

fly me AWAY from the moon
AWAY from high school.
to love. I need a new sidekick.

Meet me in outer space.
Nobody is perfect here
THERE or really anywhere.
I have a lil secret. . .
I am nobody.
Nobody is perfect
Therefore, I am perfect!

I get a lot of people threatening my life
because I catch them in my high school.
I may just ship them on a satellite
when I get bored with them.

I just heard a story that would curl your toes
& enrage you all at the same time.
after hours of agony in orbit
my last boyfriend
crashed going 2 mph right outside the high school.

People have a capacity for evil that always surprises.


Subscribe in a reader