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I'm Special Agent DJ Justice; Radio Host and Program / Artistic Director for Netroots Radio.com; and I'm manning the dials, spinning the discs, warbling the woofers, putting a slip in your hip and a trip to your hop.
The playlist for Monday 14 January 9pm to Midnight Pacific Edition of The Justice Department: Musique sans FrontieresNetroots Radio is there for ya, baby!
~~ "I Don't Know When I Stopped Believing in Heaven" ~~
1 - Little Axe -- "Hard Times"
2 - Blodwyn Pig -- "San Francisco Sketches"
3 - Les McCann & Eddie Harris -- "Compared To What?"
4 - Ornette Coleman -- "Rambling"
5 - Ben Harper -- "11th Commandment"
6 - Cinematic Orchestra -- "Burn Out"
7 - Dzihan & Kamien -- "Stiff Jazz"
8 - DJ Dolores -- "Sandide"
9 - Parov Stellar -- "Psychedelic Jazz"
10 - Budos Band -- "King Cobra"
11 - Style Council -- "Boy Who Cried Wolf"
12 - Karsh Kale -- "Absence"
13 - Geoffrey Oryema -- "The River"
14 - Ulrich Schnauss -- "A Million Miles Away"
15 - Vangelis -- "Sirens Whispering"
16 - Robbie Robertson -- "Somewhere Down This Crazy River"
17 - Kroke -- "Sounds of a Vanishing World"
18 - Novalima -- "Africa Land"
19 - Kate Bush -- "Moments of Pleasure"
20 - Serge Gainsbourg -- "Five Easy Pisseuses"
21 - Porno for Pyros -- "Kimberly Austin"
22 - Jeff Buckley -- "Last Goodbye"
23 - Grateful Dead -- "Brokedown Palace"
24 - Stereo Lab -- "Cosmic Country Noir"
25 - Animal Collective -- "Leaf House"
26 - Alcoholic Faith Mission -- "My Eyes to See"
27 - Half Head Special -- "I"
28 - Cake -- "Nugget"
29 - Les Negresses Vertes -- "Orane"
30 - First Aid Kit -- "When I Grow Up"
31 - John Coltrane -- "My Favorite Things"
32 - Horace Silver -- "Song For My Father"
33 - Euphoria -- "Delirium"
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Go ahead, now you can listen while roaming the Big Orange and beyond!
I don’t know when I stopped believing in heaven,~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
or if I do. Maybe I just stopped receiving heaven.
The sun rose. I climbed into the pines’ brittle
crowns. You could say I was retrieving heaven.
Not a place or a time, but blindness to everything
but one light, pulsing, pleasing: heaven.
We married in September. Everyone was still
wearing their summer shirts, sleeves of heaven.
It was white, there was a bend, and the car
spun. It was then I prayed, pleading with heaven.
When he goes limp, lie him down on the gurney,
Mom. Oxygen mask, breathing heaven.
The hospital shines, our son flies in and out.
The snow falls hard, relieving heaven.
He loves the colors of planets. I teach him
their lifelessness: beautiful, deceiving heaven.
I don’t know who is buried beneath me
but I hear her break as I am leaving heaven.
How can you cry for one ruined life, Maria,
when you could be grieving for heaven?
Voices and Soul appears on Black Kos Tuesday's Chile; poetry chosen and critiqued by Black Kos Poetry Editor Justice Putnam.
Question: Who is your audience? What are you here for?~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer: Tribal Alliances, Heart-felt Convictions, Passionate Reason, Random Abandon, Sustainable Civility and a kiss; to comfort the sad and the mad Ones; the Ones roaming the International section of the American Supermarket at night; or roaming the neglected streets looking for an angry malaprop to sink their teeth into; the Ones who seek without seeking and learn as much as they teach; the Ones who embrace and kiss and embrace again; the Ones who sing the song of the city and the ballads of the forest; the Ones who chant the rhythm of the sea and hum the melody of the desert; the Ones who sing the prayer of Her name and Her name is the World. Yes, those are the Ones. -- JP
(Can you help folks in need heat their homes and cook their food on the Rosebud and Pine Ridge Reservations. Navajo has an important diary posted with all the particulars. Even a small amount can work towards building the minimum.
Could you please help?)
So that explains it... !
... Or does it?
(Rail Road Crossing, Sonoma California / copyright Justice Putnam)
"Many heroes lived before Agamemnon, but they are all unmourned, and consigned to oblivion, because they had no bard to sing their praises."
"Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand."~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-- Charles Kingsley
The Nature of Poetics Collapsed Outside My Window~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On the third floor
Of an old stone hotel
I gaze out my window
To the night rain
Wet streets of
I look down on rooftops
Built by Spaniards
And across stratum
Of TV antennae
And the huge domes of
History is backed up
Against itself here
Like layers of
Soil and mud
One can see the edge of
Between the sleek
Of modern towers.
Echoing up from the street
Is the wet hiss
Of rolling tires
On wet black-top
And the more distant
All fusing somehow
Into that single
The chant of cities.
The Poet must be
He must be free
And live as
The wind itself
Not bound by
The culture of society
Not restrained by taboo.
At ease to wander
In the mysterious visions
Of touching everything
Of trusting everything
Of believing everything.
The Poet must be free
To live the law
Of iguana-lazy sleep
On the hot sand
The Poet must be free
For the frenzy
Of butterfly wings
Across the cool smooth
Texture of tropical waters.
The Poet must be free
(Mexico City 1986)
© 1988 and 2004 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches Strophe-Verlagswesen
Rest in Peace Aaron Swartz
(Morning Fog And Surf, Muir Beach, California / copyright Justice Putnam)