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Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The Perennial Meaning [Today's News Poem, November 23, 2010]

The Perennial Meaning [Today's News Poem, November 23, 2010]

Goodnight my drowsiness;
Seal off the aperture,
End my awareness:
A little death is all
I ask, but not too much—
An incomplete goodbye.
Victory's wavelength will
Crest and invert and it
Never repeats itself,
Refuses the rhythm,
Recycles the pattern,
Dies, revives back again.

"...the North fired dozens of shells at a South Korean island, killing two of the South’s soldiers... The new clash came just days after an American nuclear scientist who visited North Korea earlier this month said he had been shown a vast new facility built secretly and rapidly to enrich uranium."
—MARK McDONALD, The New York Times, Published: November 23, 2010
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/24/world/asia/24korea.html


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Sunday, June 13, 2010

The Third Nature [Today's News Poem, June 13, 2010]

The Third Nature [Today's News Poem, June 13, 2010]

They're stuck in this canyon of timber. They're waiting,
Like me, for the bus and they're dazzled by flickers
Of gasses so noble they brighten the evening
With gold—like the color of beer from a bottle.
The shards of a day that was lost fill the gutter.
The vapors ascend and combine with the moisture
Of fog on the hill and a figure approaches.
His balance maintained by the sidewalk, his breathing
Is fortified wine and his ear has a diamond
As small as the lamp at the edge of my vision.
He asks me for money. I hold up my transfer
To silence his plea—but he mumbles and rambles:
“Yeah crack's what I hoped for. You saw that. And still you
Are listening. Something tonight on the corner
Has changed me. I saw her—this tranny. She looked like
That Lucy... umm... Liu. And I know what we think and
We do makes the diff'rence in life and it's nothing
To look, but to touch her I'd earn it all back. I'm
A playa' who stepped off the game and I needed
To tell you I'm stuck and I'm hooked on the city.
And never before would I think I would ever
Confess to a man, or a stranger I want her.
I do. It's just... damn... when a man is more woman
Than woman I'll drink to her beautiful nature.”
And later I read of the snakes in the desert;
The hollow ones burst and from steel to the river;
Their contents have mingled with water. Pollution's
Ephemeral: mixed with the salt, in a body
Of desert. The earth isn't poisoned, it slumbers
Inanimate. Life too, is gone in an instant.

“A pipeline carrying mid-grade crude oil to Chevron Corp's 45,000 barrel per day (bpd) Salt Lake City refinery was shut on Saturday after leaking oil into a creek that feeds Utah's Great Salt Lake, said a fire department spokesman on Sunday.”
– Erwin Seba, Reuters, Sun Jun 13, 2010 5:29pm EDT
http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE65C2VL20100613?type=domesticNews

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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

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