Kalliope
Means "beautiful voice" from Greek καλλος (kallos) "beauty" and οψ (ops) "voice". In Greek mythology she was a goddess of epic poetry and eloquence, one of the nine Muses.
Join us every Tuesday night for drinks at the Daily Kos community political poetry club
Your own poetry is always welcome in the comments
Bongos, berets & turtle neck sweaters optional
The keypad is mightier than the sword
When I'm reading words here at Daily Kos,
nice diaries,
nice comment threads,
I often struggle
with context.
If we were conversing face to face,
I still might struggle with context.
However.
If you and I know a thing or two
about each other's biography,
the circumstances
of our childhood,
the nature of our challenges
as adults,
our passions and focus,
then we have the context I'm referring to,
then I have the context I want.
Right now,
I want to give you
a brief bio of myself,
but,
most of all,
I want to make clear
my passion and focus.
Those of you who are regulars
here at the Indigo Kalliope
poetry group,
or anyone else who stumbles on this,
I encourage you
to do likewise,
in the comment thread.
To give you an example
of one of you who has no need
to explain herself,
Kit RMP
has told us recently,
her husband died,
(her fourth or fifth husband),
and she thought she finally had
a keeper,
and he died,
and she likes to write
slice of life poetry,
as I sometimes do,
and current issues poetry,
as fits the intention of this Indigo Kalliope series.
Others here
are good to me,
and,
if you want to remain mysterious,
I certainly can't force your hand.
But here at Daily Kos,
our usernames don't reveal
age,
gender,
sexual orientation,
occupation,
disability,
where you live,
none of that.
If you feel
none of that is relevant,
carry on,
and ignore my desire for context.
But,
I hope you don't mind,
I hope I'm not testing your patience
by proceeding with my short biography,
and my passion and focus,
right now:
I was born in the fifties,
and grew up in
Kansas City,
Salina, Kansas,
and Hays, Kansas.
As an adult,
I lived in the Houston, Texas area
for ten years,
then,
in 1999,
I moved to Wichita, Kansas,
where I live now.
I met my first wife,
Pam,
in Hays, Kansas,
on October 29th,
1972.
We got married
on October 29th,
1977.
We were both virgins
on our wedding night,
her at 21,
me at 22.
I think I'm on the autism spectrum,
since I dated very little,
mostly kept to myself,
assembling jigsaw puzzles,
and riding a bicycle,
as a teenager.
(My first wife, Pam,
died on the 11th of March,
2008.
I remarried,
a black American woman,
Tonia,
on October 25,
2011.)
When I was a child,
our family,
the seven of us,
my three sisters,
myself,
and my brother,
and our parents,
we visited,
twice a year,
Grandama's farm,
a farm in Hickory County,
Missouri.
Our parents dropped us off,
and left us at the farm for a week or two,
in the summer,
and we visited for a few days
at Christmas time.
Now,
let's connect
1. my autism
2. visits to Grandma's farm
3. peak oil
4. current events
5. my predictions
6. my advice
I think my autism
gives me the ability
to analyze things
better than most.
Visits to the farm
showed me,
up close,
where food comes from.
My research on peak oil,
combined with my clear picture
of where food comes from,
leads me to say:
Famine in America,
by 2050:
the post peak oil
American apocalypse.
So.
When folks here at Daily Kos,
say this issue or that
is very big,
and needs serious attention,
I say,
yes,
we can walk and chew gum,
at the same time,
as the President says,
but,
in the face of impending famine,
I truly feel
that all Americans need to ask themselves,
will I volunteer
to quietly die of starvation,
or will I devise a plan
for a self-contained
farm.
Most of all,
(and even if you hate the rest of this diary,
please focus on this)
find your allies,
your true friends,
family who has your back,
find those folks,
get them close to you,
physically close,
move in together,
start planting the garden,
start raising the chickens or ducks,
but,
most of all,
find your people,
the ones you can trust,
you can trust with your life.
You want passionate poetry,
you want political poetry,
how much more passionate can I get?
Do you plan to be alive
in 2050?
Do you know anyone
young enough
to be alive and strong
in 2050?
On my side,
I'm talking famine,
ninety percent of Americans,
dead,
from starving
to death,
in coming decades.
I love and respect
anyone who sincerely expresses
ideas,
but,
if you ignore the coming famine,
and tell me my poetry is no good,
then,
fuck my poetry,
get to the message,
do the research,
and,
make your plans.
Starving is not
a painful way to die.
If that's your plan,
to volunteer,
when there's no more food
in your home town,
then volunteer,
and drink water,
and live blog your death,
here at Daily Kos,
if you wish.
If you plan to grow your food,
choose you fish pond,
or your duck eggs,
choose your source,
but,
most of all,
choose your family.
My family is:
myself,
Tonia, my wife
Terrell, her brother,
Randall, her uncle.
Except for Terrell,
we may all be dead
from other causes,
such as cancer or diabetes,
before the famine hits.
(Terrell has a son,
and a mature girlfriend,
so he may be okay,
when the famine hits)
But we planted a garden,
and we plan to raise chickens,
and we're talking about
hunting feral hogs.
Making plans
for bacon and eggs.
I just talked with a man from Arkansas,
one of my customers at my Walmart workplace.
He explained to me
that a 22 caliber bullet
does not kill the feral hogs.
They just keep charging.
He said,
a thirty aught six
drops the hog.
Thanks for reading.
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