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Welcome to the formal roll-out of the Tuesday afternoon edition of Indigo Kalliope.

Join us every Tuesday afternoon at the Daily Kos community political poetry club.
                    Your own poetry is always welcome in the comments.
                       Bongos, berets & turtle neck sweaters optional.                                
                            The keyboard is mightier than the sword.
This Tuesday afternoon edition of Indigo Kalliope is being published as a series under the auspices of the Readers and Book Lovers group.  Indigo Kalliope still exists as a separate group, under which IK members can publish original work and republish the poetical meanderings of others.  But this is the rebirth of the former Monday night IK offering squired mostly by our late dear friend ulookarmless.  This is meant to be a collaborative diary series, and I will publish a schedule for those interested in contributing below the fold.  Normally, the series will appear on Tuesdays, between 4 & 5 PM.  For today, in order conform to the group series calendar, which shows it as appearing at 2PM, it will be published early.  The main series editor is bigjacbigjacbigjac, who has already published a few diaries in the series, prior to the formal announcement, and who is an inspiration to me.  Poetry below the fold.

I am no poet
But I can string together
Just a few short words.
ulookarmless encouraged me to write poetry, and I mostly used the haiku form of 5-7-5 to do so.  Of course, my poetry is not haiku, in a strict sense.  But ulookarmless always said that it is the soul behind the words, not strict adherence to a particular poetic form, which is most important.  So, please accept the following with that spirit in mind.

As you might expect, the atrocity of last week, which occurred at the same time I was watching my son perform in a Christmas concert, was uppermost in my mind as I sat down to write this week.  So a majority of my offerings concern that subject.

Blood of innocents
Pools upon the classroom floor
Shattered parents keen.

Death whispers gently
I am sorry dear children
It was not your time.

The founding fathers
Would howl with rage if we claimed
This was what they meant.

When Jesus intoned
Suffer the little children
He didn't mean this.

People kill people
But it's much easier with
an assault rifle.

Asperger's syndrome
does not make kids violent
No more scapegoating.

So what if he's sick
Mental illness is a flaw
Pay for it yourselves.

Teachers gave their all
To try to save their students.
How can we give less?

And on a couple of unrelated subjects:
The dinosaurs laugh
As their refined remainders
Hasten our demise.

Shatter stones' soundness
What could possibly go wrong?
Only everything.

Rend the safety net
We need to spend that money
On guns and champagne.

Tell me who to love
I guarantee you will soon
Tell me who to hate.

I welcome your thoughts and poetry in the comments.  Here is the calendar for the next month.  Please consider hosting one of these collaborative offerings.

Christmas Day:  bigjacbigjacbigjac

New Years Day: MichiganChet

January 8: cassandracarolina
January 15: open date

January 22: open date

The floor is now open

Originally posted to Readers and Book Lovers on Tue Dec 18, 2012 at 11:00 AM PST.

Also republished by Indigo Kalliope.

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