Friday, November 26, 2010

The Critics (The New Yorker)

The Critics

There was young couple.

He was a likable man
A talented, cunning suitor
Desirable and independent
with all the subtlety of a supernova.

She was likely to be awake.
A believer in strong voices,
She had taught The Boy
how to speak like a poem.

He lives here with his cat
and occasionally his wife.
The wedding was a mourning song
without death.

Their youth is apparent
with the ticking of clocks.

They lost focus,
Lacked vigor.
Generations passed
It grew harder to act.
And, in the end, could not resist themselves.

She did not want to be disturbed
He will change his view.
They fell apart.
It's not the space one has,
It's the time.

There is no end.
They will come to life again
after a good rain.

Music Under Attack (Rolling Stone)

Music Under Attack

Support the art,
and the truth that is music.

Explicit lyrics
explicit language
"nigga" "bitch" and "ho."
You can't improve anything
if you ban three words.

Increased regulation of obscenities
Opposition to censorship.
One man's vulgarity
is another's lyric
His fundamental right to express
To change people's lives.

People don't sing happy songs
if they're broke.

Fix our communities,
We'll fix our lyrics.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Jolting Innovation (New York Times)

Jolting Innovation

Declined outlook
weighed down
shouted down
by the misjudging weak.

Keep going
tighten the reins.


Making big cuts to everything.
Cutting waste, fraud, abuse
Cutting signs of weakness
that could slow and crimp the recovery.

We won't bring the down the curtain
don't fall out from the fight.
Set off investigations
Grab the headlines.
We're not at the end
We're at the beginning.

Think a bit about how
this world
should be changed.
We need a mind like his
to push, to be precise,
to glow.

The torch has been passed
Congratulations, have fun.

City Born Unpeopled (New York Times)

City Born Unpeopled

The tomorrowland version
built from scratch
is all but deserted.

Weeds are beginning to sprout.
Broad boulevards are unimpeded.
Office buildings stand vacant.
Pedestrians are in short supply.
"It's pretty lonely here."

I just wanted to reach across
the airwaves and the years
I would love for you to consider
an apology
relatively small
not fully understood.

People say it's an empty city
but I don't find any inconveniences living by myself.

One day you will understand
why you did what you did.

Justice Asks for an Apology (New York Times)

Justice Asks for an Apology

The deadly attack into
the deadliest day
"don't ask, don't tell."

Three weeks before
he stood among
a litany of breakdowns.
A suicide at the base.

Help us.
Pray about this.
Seven killed
secretly leaving their sanctuaries.

Guerrilla factions fighting
the boarded and border bound
where they are believed to
enjoy at least protection
at least hope.

That will end of my watch.
"don't ask, don't tell."

Handwritten Murder (New York Times)

Handwritten Murder

He was not in the courtroom
to tell his tangled story
to avoid a death sentence.
For nearly three hours
the hushed courtroom
heard his life and crimes
slipped into, spattered across
prison writings He wrote.

My dark shadow was let loose
Self-serving, suicidal and grandiose.
He beat the sleeping father
with a baseball bat.
A calculated, cold blooded predator
passed through their fear
into the calm waters of abject terror.

He claimed that he had not
raped the younger child.
He praised the bravery of
her sister
who tried to escape.
Their mother had been
a coward.

I am no angel.
He used words like darkness
demons and depravity.
He said he had
been trying to kill himself.
The scars on my
soul have forever defined me.

he had never healed.

Spiritual Tourists (New York Times)

Spiritual Tourists

There is negative energy in the air here
emanating from the earth
keeping people away.

We're sitting on a graveyard
The tragedy, the woes
Shattering the tranquillity.
Questions about who did what to whom.

It's been a long process.

She is optimistic though.
This is about learning harmony
and appreciating life.
It will come back, in its own time
expanding our understanding
of life and death.

We are spiritual visitors.
He's so wildly imaginative
she suffers for lack of imagination.

She didn't want to come back at first
because of how long it's taken
to get to this level.

Art came from the depths
of his imagination.

All one needs is infinite patience
and an entire afternoon.

Powerful transition
could happen