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Justice Putnam Self-Portrait / copyright Justice Putnam

The Justice Department is on Netroots Radio.com Sundays 8pm to 9pm Pacific and Mondays 9pm to Midnight Pacific. Powered by Unity Radio Net!

I'm Special Agent DJ Justice; Radio Host and Program 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 Sunday 23 February 14 8pm to 9pm Pacific Edition of The Justice Department: Musique sans Frontieres

 ~~ "Who Were For A Time And Now Are Not" ~~

1 - Mount Madonna Choir -- "Ubi Caritas"
2 - Alice Russell -- "Hard Times"
3 - The Horseflies -- "Drunkard's Lone Child"
4 - Ben Harper -- "11th Commandment"
5 - Jacques Brel -- "Le Moribond"
6 - Alcoholic Faith Mission -- "My Eyes To See"
7 - Crooked Still -- "Undone in Sorrow"
8 - Loreena McKenitt -- "All Souls Night"

Station Break

9 - Francis Cabrel -- "Je L'aime a Mourir"
10 - Grateful Dead -- "Attics of My Life"
11 - Edgar Mayer, Bela Fleck & Mike Marshall -- "Sliding Down"
12 - Billy Carrington -- "Let Me Down Easy"
13 - Royal Wood -- "Safe Haven"
14 - Nick Sherman -- "Winterdark"
15 - Ulrich Schnauss -- "A Million Miles Away"

Who luvs ya, baby?

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The Netroots Radio Player








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Daily Kos Radio, Vintage James Baldwin, Labor History, Native American Documentaries, Flashpoints, Free Speech Radio News, Democracy Now, The David Packman Show, The Union Edge, Angie Coiro, The Professional Left with Driftglass and Blue Gal, West Coast Cookbook & SpeakEasy 6 Minute Recipes, Jim Hightower, ACLU Minutes, Nicole Sandler, Shannyn Moore, Science and History Specials, your Netroots Radio Favorites... and so much more, on right now!

Go ahead, now you can listen while roaming the Big Orange and beyond!

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(12-String Ovation Balladeer Astoria, Oregon / copyright Justice Putnam)

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Stand here by my side and turn, I pray,
   On the lake below, thy gentle eyes;
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray,
   And dark and silent the water lies;
And out of that frozen mist the snow
In wavering flakes begins to flow;
                            Flake after flake
They sink in the dark and silent lake.

See how in a living swarm they come
   From the chambers beyond that misty veil;
Some hover awhile in air, and some
   Rush prone from the sky like summer hail.
All, dropping swiftly or settling slow,
Meet, and are still in the depths below;
                            Flake after flake
Dissolved in the dark and silent lake.

Here delicate snow-stars, out of the cloud,
   Come floating downward in airy play,
Like spangles dropped from the glistening crowd
   That whiten by night the milky way;
There broader and burlier masses fall;
The sullen water buries them all–
                            Flake after flake–
All drowned in the dark and silent lake.

And some, as on tender wings they glide
   From their chilly birth-cloud, dim and gray,
Are joined in their fall, and, side by side,
   Come clinging along their unsteady way;
As friend with friend, or husband with wife,
Makes hand in hand the passage of life;
                            Each mated flake
Soon sinks in the dark and silent lake.

Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste
   Stream down the snows, till the air is white,
As, myriads by myriads madly chased,
They fling themselves from their shadowy height.
   The fair, frail creatures of middle sky,
What speed they make, with their grave so nigh;
                            Flake after flake,
To lie in the dark and silent lake!

I see in thy gentle eyes a tear;
   They turn to me in sorrowful thought;
Thou thinkest of friends, the good and dear,
   Who were for a time, and now are not;
Like these fair children of cloud and frost,
That glisten a moment and then are lost,
                            Flake after flake–
All lost in the dark and silent lake.

Yet look again, for the clouds divide;
   A gleam of blue on the water lies;
And far away, on the mountain-side,
   A sunbeam falls from the opening skies,
But the hurrying host that flew between
The cloud and the water, no more is seen;
                            Flake after flake,
At rest in the dark and silent lake.

-- William Cullen Bryant
"The Snow-Shower"

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Voices and Soul appears on Black Kos Tuesday's Chile; poetry chosen and critiqued by Black Kos Poetry Editor Justice Putnam.

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(Cut Stones and Arch St Ceneri, France / copyright Justice Putnam)

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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

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(Man, Girl and Broken Window Klamath Falls, Oregon / copyright Justice Putnam)

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(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?)

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So that explains it... !

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Sunlight and Water Pitcher Muir Beach / copyright Justice Putnam

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... Or does it?

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(Holy Bible and 3 in 1 Oil Berkeley, California / copyright Justice Putnam)

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(Rail Road Crossing, Sonoma California / copyright Justice Putnam)

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(Farm Road and Running Fence, Olema, California / copyright Justice Putnam)

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"Many heroes lived before Agamemnon, but they are all unmourned, and consigned to oblivion, because they had no bard to sing their praises."

 -- Horace

"Still the race of hero spirits pass the lamp from hand to hand."

-- Charles Kingsley

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I could
Remember
The days

When innocence
Was blowing

Like across

A Van Gogh
Meadow

Caressing the
Hillsides and woods
With a
Fragrant
Shimmering
Color.

Innocence
Rising

Above the
Vulgarity
In which the
Existence
Of nearly every
Individual
Is spent.

But I had become
Bound by guilt

And dubious
Of the truth.

I came to believe
That in a sense

Innocence

Was the same
As failing

Holding onto
Innocence
Meant becoming

Dog-lipped
And stranded
In the park

Alone.

I came to believe
That the measure
Of love

Was the amount
Of emotional
Hurt
I could survive.

Not quite
Like a crushed
Butterfly
Picked apart
By a colony of ants

But I had often
Cut my finger

From the beauty
Of a long-stemmed rose.

So I realized
In those final moments
What had actually
Happened

My life was
A series of patterns

A self created
Maze that offered
No escape

So overwhelming
In its
Awesome-ness

That I was
Incapacitated
By its weight

I had no
Resiliency
Left to survive

I punctured
Myself
With my own
Pursuit of
Beauty.

Again
And again
I had sought

Compassion
And heart-pure
Connection

Between the legs
Of Beauty

Only to make
Visible
My own
Impure

Weakness of heart.

I would

Give up.

I would

Let sadness
String itself
Between my fingers

And memory

Became
A fading
Melody.

(Portland, Oregon and Los Angeles, California 1978)

(from: Part 3 "And Memory Became A Fading Melody")

© 2006 by Justice Putnam
and Mechanisches-Strophe Verlagswesen

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Rest in Peace Aaron Swartz

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(Morning Fog And Surf, Muir Beach, California / copyright Justice Putnam)

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Originally posted to The Justice Department on Netroots Radio.com on Sun Feb 23, 2014 at 07:50 PM PST.

Also republished by Netroots Radio, LatinoKos, Black Kos community, and Protest Music.

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