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.
My wife, Tonia, and I, have a new cat;
her brother named the cat
Fuzz Lightyear.
Fuzz is male,
a light shade of tabby,
with a white bib under his chin;
truly a fine home decoration,
not just an accessory,
but a centerpiece to build one's home decor around.
(I write this because I feel most cats are so damned good looking,
that folks who serve cats,
at least at first,
do so for that reason,
then learn to like their personality,
maybe.)
Fuzz,
just an hour before I wrote this,
spilled my wife's big mug,
which was full of ice and cranberry grape juice.
Bad Fuzz.
We both scoop out his litter box often,
of course.
The joys of serving a cat.
We also have two dogs,
my old dog, Rowdy, that I got in 2006,
when my first wife, Pam, was alive,
and Cinnamon,
a gift from Tonia's sister,
just full grown but still a puppy.
And we're about to get back Cinnamon's mother,
Ciera,
and three of Ciera's new puppies,
to sell or give away.
So,
I'm planning to build four A-frame dog houses,
one for Rowdy,
one for Cinnamon,
one for Ciera,
and one for a duck we don't have yet.
The duck is part of our plan
to live a life that's a little more sustainable;
eating a lot of duck eggs,
rather than just working at a Walmart,
and expecting the fracking to provide plenty of diesel fuel
for the trucks
to bring an endless flow of eggs
to my Walmart store.
I'm reading a book,
The Long Emergency,
by James Howard Kunstler.
Read it here! :
http://ecoartscotland.files.wordpress.com/...
If the folks who lived along this highway put in gardens to make up
for the escalating inadequacies of an industrial farming system starved for
fossil fuel "inputs," would they be able to feed themselves? Did any vernacular knowledge survive in a populace conditioned to think that food
came from the supermarket? Did they know anything about cabbage loopers, powdery mildew, or anthracnose? Would they be able to prevent catastrophic crop loss? How would they defend their crops against deer, rabbits, woodchucks? Would any of them know how to build a garden wall, or even a fence? Where would they get fencing material? Would they have to sit out among the potato hills and the bean rows at night with loaded shotguns? And what would they do for light when they heard something
munching out there? Would they know how to keep chicken, sheep, cattle,
including breeding and birthing them?
Thanks for reading.
Readers & Book Lovers Series Schedule
Indigo Kalliope hosting schedule:
Wide open!
I have an observation:
In my years with the grief support group here at Daily Kos,
The Grieving Room,
folks might write a diary,
tell the story of his or her deeply painful grief experience,
and then,
in many cases,
it was a one shot deal,
the story is told,
and that particular diarist never volunteered again.
I can understand that feeling.
My question is,
I love you all,
but why would a poet
post a great IK diary,
then stay away?
Probably just not a high priority for use of time.
Anyway:
March:
12th open
19th open
26th open
April:
2nd open
9th open
See you in the funny papers!
Or the IK diaries!