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 11 May 14 8pm to 9pm Pacific Edition of The Justice Department: Musique sans Frontieres
~~ "A Hot Red Fog Hovers in Your Hair" ~~
1 - Bobby Womack -- "Across 110th Street"
2 - Rose Batiste -- "Nobody Loves Me Like My Baby"
3 - Brenda Holloway -- "Starting The Hurt All Over Again"
4 - Brook Benton -- "My True Confession"
5 - Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell -- "Your Precious Love"
6 - Linda Jones -- "I'll Be Sweeter Tomorrow"
7 - The Four Tops -- "Still Water Love"
8 - Marvelettes -- "Destination Anywhere"
9 - The Velvelettes -- "He Was Really Saying Something"
10 - Bill Withers - "Just The Two Of Us"
Station Break
11 - The Stanley Brothers -- "Pass Me Not O' Gentle Savior."
12 - Big Mama Thornton -- "Wade In The Water"
13 - Little Axe -- "Down To The Valley"
14 - Bobby McFerrin -- "Psalm 23"
15 - Chris Thomas King -- "Revelations"
16 - Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris & Linda Ronstadt -- "In My Hour of Darkness"
17 - Daniel Lanois -- "Where Will I Be"
Who luvs ya, baby?
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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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There are trees and they are on fire. There are hummingbirds and they are on fire. There are graves and they are on fire and the things coming out of the graves are on fire. The house you grew up in is on fire. There is a gigantic trebuchet on fire on the edge of a crater and the crater is on fire. There is a complex system of tunnels deep underneath the surface with only one entrance and one exit and the entire system is filled with fire. There is a wooden cage we’re trapped in, too large to see, and it is on fire. There are jaguars on fire. Wolves. Spiders. Wolf-spiders on fire. If there were people. If our fathers were alive. If we had a daughter. Fire to the edges. Fire in the river beds. Fire between the mattresses of the bed you were born in. Fire in your mother’s belly. There is a little boy wearing a fire shirt holding a baby lamb. There is a little girl in a fire skirt asking if she can ride the baby lamb like a horse. There is you on top of me with thighs of fire while a hot red fog hovers in your hair. There is me on top of you wearing a fire shirt and then pulling the fire shirt over my head and tossing it like a fireball through the fog at a new kind of dinosaur. There are meteorites disintegrating in the atmosphere just a few thousand feet above us and tiny fireballs are falling down around us, pooling around us, forming a kind of fire lake which then forms a kind of fire cloud. There is this feeling I get when I am with you. There is our future house burning like a star on the hill. There is our dark flickering shadow. There is my hand on fire in your hand on fire, my body on fire above your body on fire, our tongues made of ash. We are rocks on a distant and uninhabitable planet. We have our whole life ahead of us.
-- Zachary Schomburg
"The Fire Cycle"
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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... !
Sunlight and Water Pitcher Muir Beach / copyright Justice Putnam
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... Or does it?
(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
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Simonides of Ios
by
Justice Putnam
On the fields of Marathon
Lay the withering
Brave
Farmers and boys
In a flowering
Grave
(Markris Yialos—Crete, Greece)
from: "The Nature of Poetics Collapsed Outside My Window"
© 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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