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sir jay de mellow



Joined: 05 May 2005
Posts: 524

Post Post subject: poetry Reply with quote

wicked -eee?


Quote:


wicked - eee?

"a scheme developed
dont know how
to separate
above
below
to funnel up
and trickle down
engendring
smiles
engendring
frowns
a quest for badges
status gowns
to judge
be judged ............

............................. draped deftly
over
circus clowns
and kings
and pawns
on hallowed ground
upon the mound
hundreds of pounds
feeding people
run arounds
so gather round
and hear the sound
of rope on neck
and chain on hand
a ritual
upon command
and mummy
i cant feel
the ground
and mammon
works
as mammon
planned
thats not a
link
thats just a
sound
a thousand
pound
on hay
can stand
catch
spittle shit
splintered
flotsam
fallen
from an
unseen hand
bloody picture
bloody land
seeps underground


a techno fix
a techno sound
'sif blakened
blood
is pumped
from sand
a miracle
the eye
prehend
a gated system
in the round
dollars sheikels
rupees rand
roublees dinars
even pound
to funnel up
and trickle down
agendring
smiles
engind'ring
frowns
a quest for badges
status gowns
to judge
be judged.............

..............................draped deftly
over
circus clowns
and kings
and pawns
on sallowed
ground
in vale ont'
land
millions of
pounds
we need they want
run around
so gather round
vision and sound
plank turn
scaffold
rasping sound
metal nails
a formal
pound
and plastic
seating
tethered down
precision
clinic
syntho sound
of plasto fabric
sealing down
round leg
and arm
and belly mound
preparing
who
with sizzling
crown
a right-to-all
written
command
and mummy
i cant feel
the ground
and mammon
works
as mammon
planned
thats not a
link
thats just a
sound
ten million
pound
t.v.
can stand
to catch
the spittle
shit an
gland
detritus
from an unseen
hand
cracking picture
cracking sound
set free
above
below
the ground"

and still the people rally round

-dubwise

posted by themoodyduckling at 12/10/2005 02:49:00 AM



http://themoodyduckling.blogspot.com/2005/12/wicked-eee.html
Sat Dec 10, 2005 7:37 am
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sir jay de mellow



Joined: 05 May 2005
Posts: 524

Post Post subject: Screams by Mélida Arredondo Reply with quote

Screams by Mélida Arredondo


Quote:

Posted by The Editors on January 2, 2007, 4:05 pm

Posted on Stephen Soldz's blog:
Mélida Arredondo, who lost her stepson Marine Lcpl Alexander S. Arredondo on August 25, 2004, expresses the feelings of many of the 3,000 families today:


Quote:


SCREAMS
by Melida Arredondo

I can hear them.
Can’t you?
The screams as she cries
What more can she do?

The pressure on her chest
Just won’t go away.
Today, ends the year
Her child’s death day.

The wife stands alone
Her kids at her side
Saying “Mom, what’s wrong?
Mr. is my Daddy alive?”

The men dressed all nice
One with a collar
Do not explain
all this death for a dollar

Or oil or greed.
They are not here to talk real
They bring only news
That cause the whole family to kneel.

The Father grabs one man
by his uniform in anger
The other hold his arms
To protect the GI from the stranger.

Yet, this Father to him
A stranger is not
The GI looks into his tears
and sees the eyes of his Pop.

The words are not friendly
Yet the pain fills all who love
And lose their own family
Due to bombs from above.

I hear the endless screams
They just won’t go away…
At least 3,000 are dead
And no cause to celebrate

On this last day of the year
I desire so much more
from my country and neighbors
to unite against senseless war.

Mélida Arredondo, www.peopleunited4peace.org


Quote:

Remember Lcpl Alexander S. Arredondo, USMC, 08/05/1984 - 08/25/04
“To stand in silence when they should be protesting makes cowards out of men” - Abe Lincoln

The Arredondos know this scream firsthand:

Carlos Arredondo of Roslindale, MA, learned that his son Lcpl. Alexander Arredondo, USMC was killed in action on August 25, 2004, his 44th birthday. When advised of his son’s death and due to anguish, grief and questionable protocol by the Casualty Assistance Team, he set fire to a US Marine van and himself in the process. These images were broadcast worldwide and resonated for many as the ultimate anguish of a father having lost his son in war. Carlos attended Alexander’s wake and funeral on a stretcher despite his injuries. With the help of his wife and family, he recuperated from burns on 26% of his body and engaged in active counseling to recuperate from PTSD. As a part of his treatment, he reaches out to other families who have lost their family members. He currently is focusing on public speaking and preparing a media campaign to inform particularly Spanish speaking parents of the unethical recruitment methods used to target troops who come from divorced and low income backgrounds.

Melida Arredondo of Roslindale, MA, drove home as quickly as she could when she found out that her stepson Alexander had been killed in action. When she turned onto her street, she witnessed a fire. She realized that there was something burning in front of her home. She saw Carlos writhing in pain as a US Marine sat on his back holding his arms. In the midst of the confusion, she remembers helicopters overhead, the sirens wailing, speaking to Brian (Alex’s younger brother) on a cell phone and witnessed a van on fire just a few feet away from her. Melida, a lifelong peace and justice activist, was active in protesting the Gulf War while George H. Bush’s was in office. Out of respect and love for her stepson, she told him that she was scared for him and did not believe in war. Yet, she told him she would not protest since she did not want him to believe she did not love and support him. Since Alex’ death, Melida has written opinion pieces about the war in local Boston papers, is aiding Carlos in writing about his experiences and works at a community health center in Dorchester, Massachusetts.

Link: http://psychoanalystsopposewar.org/blog/2007/01/01/the-scream-at-3000/


all the best
Tue Jan 02, 2007 6:24 pm
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sir jay de mellow



Joined: 05 May 2005
Posts: 524

Post Post subject: w.h. auden Reply with quote

W. H. Auden : 'September 1, 1939'


Quote:


Re: Shoot the messenger: Blair blames media for anti-war mood
Posted by M Cotton on January 13, 2007, 2:50 pm, in reply to "Re: Shoot the messenger: Blair blames media for anti-war mood"
User logged in as: Miriamcotton

This discussion reminds me of these verses from Auden's poem 'September 1, 1939':
"Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psycopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer tham all again.

Into this neutral air
Where the blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competetive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong."

There is no psychosis here. Blair is consciously lying his way through his disgrace. His vanity was his fatal flaw. He rushed to Bush's side without adequately considering what might lie ahead and the more apparent his foolishness in that respect the more concerned he has been to try to cover it up. A lot of people have died because of his attempt to save face and to appear consistent - and to help procure control of the oil for the West. Not for a second does he let up with his carefully contrived strategy of clearly strained support for Bush. To convince us that he is genuine, he has to resort to ever more extreme positions. It's a forenscially constructed argument for the defence - such as any skilled debater or lawyer is required to do every day. Blair's is a glib, airtight little world which no fact or truth can be allowed to penetrate. He keeps returning to a rationale that he knows full well has long since been discredited - exposed for the lie that it is: that he is bringing 'democracy' and that in order to do so it is immaterial how many people he is prepared to kill and maim in the process or how much short and long term destruction he causes - the stuff which every schoolchild knows will inevitably follow. The Labour Party deserve to be annihilated at the next election for tolerating this murderer for so long.

To think that he is now advocating a further 20 years of slaughter in the name of 'peace' and 'democracy'. Jesus. At what point do the rest of us get angry enough to do something radical about this? Im not advocating violence - but there is an awful lot that could be done to bring the UK and US fully to their senses about this atrocious situation. We devote a lot of time to criticising the media on this board but the most critical factor is surely the helpless stupor within which we function ourselves. It's up to us to change this situation - not 'them'. We have to withdraw our cooperation - a series of national strikes. Peaceful direct action. Of course Blair and Bush have anticipated this reaction and that is what all the new legislation has been about. It's not aimed at 'terrorists' at all - it's aimed at outlawing the rational humanity which is bound to erupt sooner or later - especially if we are being forced into a 20 year campaign of slaughter. Compassion and humaity have stealthily been redfined as terrorism. We ought to put down our collective knitting - leave aside the football results and whatever other distractions we rely on to pretend the world is the right way up.




posted as a respose to comments on the following story:
Shoot the messenger: Blair blames media for anti-war mood
Posted by Nick on January 13, 2007, 9:39 am
User logged in as: NickD
http://news.independent.co.uk/uk/politics/article2149762.ece

the full text of the poem can be found here:
http://www.gametec.com/poemdujour/Sept1.1939.html

all the best, sir jay
Sat Jan 13, 2007 7:24 pm
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sir jay de mellow



Joined: 05 May 2005
Posts: 524

Post Post subject: RADIOACTIVE Reply with quote

cor its bin a long time ..... nice one danny lad!


RADIOACTIVE


Posted by Sirens After thunder [User Info] [Email User] on June 12, 2011, 3:38 pm

You ask my why I don't get printed
In respectable publications
You ask me why I don't get published
In the mainstream magazines
What have I done to burn my bridges
With the editing committees?
How did I manage to crush so many toes?

It's 'cos I'm radioactive
Oh I'm untouchable
It's 'cos I'm too hot to handle
And I'm unmentionable
They won't touch me with a bargepole
They avoid me like the plague
Because I'm radioactive
That is why

You ask me why I get rejected
By the paragons of Fleet Street
You ask me why I don't impinge
On our prestigious Fourth Estate
Could I have been a touch more clever
Than to ruffle all their feathers?
How did I put their noses out of joint?

It's 'cos I'm radioactive
Oh I'm untouchable
It's 'cos I'm too hot to handle
And I'm unmentionable
They won't whisper my initials
They won't codify my name
Because I'm radioactive as plutonium

The answer is simple
I tried to tell it like it is
But my honesty was treated with disdain
Now my face doesn't fit
I've landed in the shit
And none of them will speak to me again!

It's 'cos I'm radioactive
Oh I'm untouchable
It's 'cos I'm too hot to handle
And I'm unmentionable
I am persona no grata
I'm the devil incarnate
And I'll be radioactive till I die
And I'll be radioactive for a thousand years!

all the best, sir jay
Mon Jun 13, 2011 11:16 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

Hej Sir Jay,
been a long time.
I hope you're well.
Didn't realise you had a poetry forum.
All posts here from now on.
Stay Focused.

Best wishes
Dan x
Sun Jun 19, 2011 10:08 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

copied from message board

MALFAISANCE
Posted by Sirens After Thunder on June 18, 2011, 6:11 pm

Malfaisance, I can't resist your charms
Malfaisance, take me in your arms
Malfaisance, you are so fair of face
Malfaisance, I'm lost in your embrace

You are the arch seductress
You enticed me, lured me in
You led me into temptation
Then forced me to give in

Now my entrapment is complete
And there's no turning back
You have swept me off my feet
I jump when your whip you crack

Malfaisance, your beauty disarms
Malfaisance, touch me with your palms
Malfaisance, kiss me on the lips
Malfaisance, you've launched a thousand battleships

Now I'm in your pay
I cannot prise myself away
I am powerless to resist
My little disillusionist

You call the tune and I come running
You call my name, you flick my switch
I cannot help but do your bidding
I'm always willing to scratch your itch

Oh the unpeople are people too
But to admit it just wouldn't do
We've got to stay on message
We've got to see this through

Malfaisance, you're my satisfaction
Malfaisance, you drive me to distraction
Malfaisance, let me take you for a wife
Malfaisance, stab me with your knife

Life In A Totalitarian State

Sirens
Sun Jun 19, 2011 10:21 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

Copied from message board

AN INNOCENT ABROAD
Posted by Sirens After Thunder on July 1, 2011, 5:51 pm

To an innocent abroad
I feel ashamed
As the bombs rain on your head
To an innocent abroad
I feel your pain
As the funerals bury your dead

To an innocent abroad
I’m powerless
To stop the violence & destruction
To an innocent abroad
I must confess
I not sure how to best take action

I wrote a letter to my government
I received a swift reply
A cordial missive straight from Number 10
The PM seeks a peaceful resolution

To an innocent abroad
You’re not alone
I have written to the papers
Please take courage
Please don’t give up hope
I said their coverage was a disgrace

My ‘Stop the War’ poster was defaced
A stone thrown through my window
My neighbours aren’t aware of what’s taken place
And our leaders don’t want them to know

To an innocent abroad
Do not despair
For good will triumph in the end
So let me sign off now
‘Yours faithfully’
From a distant unknown friend
Fri Jul 01, 2011 5:59 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

Copied from the message board - Thanks Gabriele

An Obituary for Truth - Lesley Docksey
Posted by gabriele on October 22, 2011, 11:21 am

An Obituary for Truth
Lesley Docksey

After years of listening to the lies of governments, trying to manipulate out opinions about Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, Libya and the rest, I despaired when I heard Gaddafi had been killed. I despaired not because I was a champion of his, but because they couldn’t even be honest about the manner of his dying
I couldn’t write an article about the casual dishonest twisting of truth, and many better writers will do so. All I could write was this obituary for truth:

Twisting the Truth

Taking something just and good,
Something from the heart of wood;
Taking something sweet and fair,
Something pure as mountain air;
Picking over honest deeds,
Calling evil our plain needs;
Taking truth and making lies,
Twisting hearts until man dies.

Taking fair and making foul,
Taking song and making howl;
Twisting, twisting all about,
Turning peace to bloody rout.
Killing care and breaking trust,
Scorning love, creating lust;
Spewing hate and screwing fate,
Drowning truth in sewer lies,
Twisting, twisting, ’til man dies.

What is truth? Who can tell
Upon this merry road to hell?

Faith into wraith
Dead of despair;
Hope into rage,
War into wage;
Wife into widow,
Joy into sorrow:
Rich into poor,
Sweet into sour;
Lies and more lies
As everyone dies.

What is truth? Who can tell
Upon this merry road to hell?

Lesley Docksey 21/10/11
Thu Oct 27, 2011 10:09 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

Copied from the message board

"I wrote this poem last week for all the misused poppies
Posted by lone ranger on November 20, 2011, 7:19 pm

Support support our men they cry
Those once brave men
sent off to die.
Who now, cloth laden,
return once more
To mothers who
weep upon the floor

Support those men
Support you fool.
Support them as the
bombs drop too
Support them as
the snipers fire
While locals die and children quiver

Support our boys as they're shot down
Support them as they hit the ground
Support them as their blood flows free
Like tears flow from their family

And now.....

Look lads! The enemy!
That Rag Heads there!
And who could blame them
Their friend's ripped bare?
His body soaked with blood and guts
Now rage, blind rage, it fills the air.

But what about that man they seek?
His friend's broke body lays at his feet.
His home lays shattered, his family gone.
And rage, blind rage, he has become.

And all the papers from left to right
Promote this game, this game of fright.

And the politicians? They lead the game.
And all the people, they sit their tame, despite a sense that somethings wrong.
Remembering their poppy song.

........

The bells ring out and silence falls
And all the leaders stand their tall
With poppies pinned upon their chest
Remembering that they know best

How best to send our boys to war
And how to lie to start that war
And how to use the media too
Full of grovelling boys of power true"
Sun Nov 20, 2011 9:39 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

copied from message board


STREET EXECUTIVE
Posted by Sirens After Thunder on January 19, 2012, 6:31 pm

Such a 'position' is currently being advertised in the window of a central Birmingham job agency.

Street executive
What are you selling today?
Street executive
Can you show us the way?
You must be awfully bold
You must feel awfully cold
Today

Street executive
What does it say on your sign?
Street executive
How do you pass the time?
You must be awfully ignored
You must feel awfully bored
Standing there all day

Do you talk to the pigeons?
Or do you watch the world go by?
Do you write street poetry?
As the minutes creep by

Street executive
What are you thinking about?
Street executive
Is it time to bail out?
You must feel awfully sad
You must get awfully mad
Living this way

http://davewatton.blogspot.com/
Thu Jan 19, 2012 8:35 pm
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toastkid



Joined: 30 Jul 2005
Posts: 393

Post Post subject: Reply with quote

Copied from message board

Never Give Up - 1845
Posted by ajohnstone on January 22, 2012, 12:12 pm

Another blast from the past
http://www.wolvestuc.org.uk/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=279&Itemid=63

Never Give Up (Northern Star, February 22 1845)

NEVER give up! It is wiser and better
Always to hope than once to despair
Fling off the load of Doubt's cankering fetter
And break the dark spell of tyrannical care
Never give up! or the burden may sink you
Providence kindly has mingled the cup
And, in all trials or troubles, bethink you
The watchword of life must be,
Never give up
Never give up!
There are chances and changes
Helping the hopeful a hundred to one
And through the chaos High Wisdom arranges
Ever success -if you'll only hope on
Never give up! For the wildest is boldest
Knowing that Providence mingles the cup
And of all maxims the best, as the oldest
Is the watchword of Never give up
Never give up! - tho' the grape-shot may rattle
Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst
Stand like a rock,-and the storm or the battle
Little shall harm you, though doing their worst
Never give up! if adversity presses
Providence wisely has mingled the cup
And the best counsel, in all your distresses
Is the stout watchword of Never give up!
Sun Jan 22, 2012 5:22 pm
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johnlilburne



Joined: 24 Jul 2006
Posts: 137
Location: Yorkshire

Post Post subject: Rilke: Ninth Duino Elegy Reply with quote

Why, when this span of life might be fleeted away
as laurel, a little darker than all
the surrounding green, with tiny waves on the border
of every leaf (like the smile of a wind):—oh, why
have to be human, and, shunning Destiny,
long for Destiny? . . .
Not because happiness really
exists, that premature profit of imminent loss.
Not out of curiosity, not just to practise the heart,
that could still be there in laurel. . . . .
But because being here amounts to so much, because all
this Here and Now, so fleeting, seems to require us and strangely
concern us. Us the most fleeting of all. Just once,
everything, only for once. Once and no more. And we, too,
once. And never again. But this
having been once, though only once,
having been once on earth—can it ever be cancelled?

And so we keep pressing on and trying to perform it,
trying to contain it within our simple hands,
in the more and more crowded gaze, in the speechless heart.
Trying to become it. To give it to whom? We’d rather
hold on to it all for ever. . . . Alas, but the other relation,—
what can be taken across? Not the art of seeing, learnt here
so slowly, and nothing that’s happened here. Nothing at all.
Sufferings, then. Above all, the hardness of life,
the long experience of love; in fact,
purely untellable things. But later,
under the stars, what then? the more deeply untellable stars?
For the wanderer doesn’t bring from the mountain slope
a handful of earth to the valley, untellable earth, but only
some word he has won, a pure word, the yellow and blue
gentian. Are we, perhaps, here just for saying: House,
Bridge, Fountain, Gate, Jug, Olive tree, Window,—
possibly: Pillar, Tower? . . . . but for saying, remember,
oh, for such saying as never the things themselves
hoped so intensely to be. Is not the secret purpose
of this sly earth, in urging a pair of lovers,
just to make everything leap with ecstasy in them?
Threshold: how much it can mean
to two lovers, that they should be wearing their own
worn threshold a little, they too, after the many before,
before the many to come, . . . . as a matter of course!

Here is the time for the Tellable, here is its home.
Speak and proclaim. More than ever
the things we can live with are falling away, and their place
being oustingly taken up by an imageless act.
Act under crusts, that will readily split as soon
as the doing within outgrows them and takes a new outline.
Between the hammers lives on
our heart, as between the teeth
the tongue, which, nevertheless,
remains the bestower of praise.

Praise the world to the Angel, not the untellable: you
can’t impress him with the splendour you’ve felt; in the cosmos
where he more feelingly feels you’re only a tyro. So show him
some simple thing, remoulded by age after age,
till it lives in your hands and eyes as a part of ourselves.
Tell him things. He’ll stand more astonished; as you did
beside the roper in Rome or the potter in Egypt.
Show him how happy a thing can be, how guileless and ours;
how even the moaning of grief purely determines on form,
serves as a thing, or dies into a thing,—to escape
to a bliss beyond the fiddle. These things that live on departure
understand when you praise them: fleeting, they look for
rescue through something in us, the most fleeting of all.
Want us to change them entirely, within our invisible hearts,
into—oh, endlessly—into ourselves! Whosoever we are.

Earth, isn’t this what you want: an invisible
re-arising in us? Is it not your dream
to be one day invisible? Earth! invisible!
What is your urgent command, if not transformation?
Earth, you darling, I will! Oh, believe me, you need
your Springs no longer to win me: a single one,
just one, is already more than my blood can endure.
I’ve now been unspeakably yours for ages and ages.
You were always right, and your holiest inspiration’s
Death, that friendly Death.
Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future
are growing less. . . . . Supernumerous existence
wells up in my heart.

(translated from German by J.B. Leishman and Stephen Spender)
Sun Jul 08, 2012 11:08 pm
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