King Cause
By Rowan Underwood
Oh, the screams a mind makes
Tortured by the bits of things it sees
and yes,
it even sees itself
dead, reflecting, and gently unwoven.
Hum Hum
and masturbation is caused
by bolt of pornography.
Hum Hum
and Brittany Spears is caused
by anorexia.
Toast doesn't know its destined for butter,
it only knows there is no going back to bread.
Particles of light don't know they're actually waves.
Minds don't know bits of things are actually everything.
And the Universe is a parable dame
Mobius stripping her way to lucidity.
For more information on the author, please visit http://members.fortunecity.com/rowan_underwood/
or http://www.geocities.com/sevenstonecircle/
email: rowan_u
Deleted
By Joann McKinney
Deleted
The memories of you and I
What once was
Erased with a click
By some corporate executive
Who decided my account was worthless
An all too powerful reminder
Of what is over
Nothing left for me of you
My cherished memories gone
The corsage still sits on my dresser
But that is all I have
And I miss you
I miss that look in your eyes
The way you told me you loved me
Without ever saying the word
And now the past is deleted
Your flannel shirt
Never to be wrapped around me again
In the chivalry of that night
Our first date
Your ball cap stays
Turned backwards
Over your now long brown hair
As a reminder to me
Of who we were
And where we’ve come from
Even though you tossed it
When it was over
And the memory of me
Hurts you still
For you did not want to hurt me so
But you did
And I wonder now
If it’s really you I miss
Or maybe it was just your flannel and cap
contact: terrordiva
Dying Deaths & Fa La Las
By Echo Poetica
To die those deaths with you-
The things the fa la las don't say.
And there, the piano plays.
When you do less than thinking of a
flowing river,
There is love in zen.
Understand? Lost the pain?
contact: sgtpprsgrl
Harmonica Player
By Timothy M. Bruderek
The keys are calling
The ebonies and the ivories silenced
Street vendors and tramps can agree
The competition isn't commercial
Wearing a simple beret and smile
Killing with a harpoon
Easily accessible
Readily available
Perfectly compatible
Blowing your mind and harp
Sharpness in breath strokes
Soundless whistle
Lightweight and fragmented
Allowing air for time
Bent with nickel
Dominating the corners
King of the buskers
Lord of the pennies
contact: willymiller02
Jazz Iz
By Jeff Berner
I pick up my jazz box and hug its bulky contours
And dream of Bird and Diz and Lester Young
I daydream how I am suddenly seated in Minton’s in the late 40’s
With the great Thelonious Monk seated at the battered piano not ten feet from me
He grumbles to Coleman Hawkins about the chord changes to the bridge of “Epistrophy”
“Naw man, it’s B-flat to C-minor to G...”
Monk takes a sip from the half-empty bottle of Dewar’s on the piano
In his mumbling way, he counts off the next tune
He plays like he speaks-in fragments, hard to discern at times but always something that knocks you out
In the corner, Max Roach is drumming, lines of concentration etched in his head
His sticks are a fiery blur, radiating intensity and concentration of the utmost.
And Ron Carter over there holding it down, counting out the time on his big scarred standup bass
The loping bassline he plays suggests a drunken old man’s walk
Sometimes stumbling, sometimes loping, but with a crazy feel like no other
I can almost hear the old man’s shoes shuffling against the sidewalk
And when he flies into the upper octaves for a solo, watch out now
Fingers flying, slapping the fretboard, truly an amazing feat to watch.
Coleman sits patiently on a chair, waiting for his moment to create his own sound painting.
Face is motionless and expressionless, save for the glowing eyes receded within
They seem to scrutinize and take in all that surrounds him.
Pressing the metal mouthpiece to his lips, he begins to play
His rich tenor fills the room with its golden tone
Aloft on a sea of melody, he flirts with some notes, yells at others, and pleads with others still.
Sometimes he uses his instrument as a weapon of war, like the Mystery Horn in the Grand Wazoo.
Other times he argues passionately with lost lovers and laments the death of those before him
Max is in a frenzy, playing seemingly faster than the sound can catch up with him
A ball of fury barely restrained enough to sit on a drum stool
An old man dressed in his Sunday best, sticks his head in the door and says, “Allriiiiiight!”, and walks away,
groovin’ out to the rhythms inherent within
Now I know where James Brown got the urge to give it up or turnit a loose, and at the same time marvel at the
true American “classical” music.
The smoke curls up from the ashtray on the chair next to Max’s hi-hat and slowly makes its way to the ceiling,
fighting for space amongst all the notes clustered in the room .
Monk’s right foot shuffles and strides across the floor as he comps with fractured chords and bass runs
Never staying still, it seems to suggest the energy apparent in this music
And for this I mourn the death of The Great American Note.
contact: islastchild506
Another Broken Joni Record
By Timothy Bruderek
I dreamt I had an acid trip
But I didn't know it was acid
My life spins like a broken Joni Mitchell record
"Help me,
I think I'm falling in love again"
A little touch of jazz
Wouldn't hurt a soul
A little touch of blues
For my tired rock and roll
The record breaks
Joni speaks
Help me
I think I'm tripping on something
But I know it ain't acid
contact: willymiller02
As You Played / Come avete giocato
By Echo Poetica
Your fingers grace me
Like the curve of our world.
Only your eyes replace me
In this heart woven mirror.
I wanted to sing love to you,
But you watched me caring
As you played.
la vostra tolleranza delle barrette me
come la curva del nostro mondo.
soltanto i vostri occhi lo sostituiscono
in questo cuore tessuto specchio.
Ho desiderato cantare l' amore voi
ma lo avete guardato preoccuparsi
come avete giocato.
contact: sgtpprsgrl
Songs are like tatoos...My thoughts on Joni
Mitchell's BLUE
By Timothy Bruderek
Joni Mitchell's BLUE has left an undeniable mark both in our culture and our personal lives...
Joni Mitchell has the astonishing ability of painting masterpieces with her
words. Every line of every song tells a story within itself; each song is a
chapter in the never-ending book of her life. Joni is one of the most
prominent and prolific female songwriters of both her generation and of all
time. Each album takes you in a different direction and into a world that
only she can create through her complex and starkly beautiful lyrics.
BLUE, Joni’s undisputed masterpiece, sums up the musical and personal
journey on which Joni invites us to follow.
The first song on BLUE, “All I Want,” is a beautifully simplistic song about
someone who is struggling to find what she is looking for. The song, which
begins with the line “I am on a lonely road and I am traveling,” sums up
the entire song and begins the album’s theme of a continuous journey
through self. Joni’s crystalline, multi-ranged voice sings, “I want to have
fun/I want to shine like the sun/I want to be the one that you want to
see,” and continues the tale of a young girl’s endless search for love and
freedom.
“My Old Man” immediately follows, describing Joni’s newfound relationship
with a man whom she adores. With the lines “He takes me in his loving
arms/He tells me all my troubles/He tells me all my charms,” she portrays
the feelings of contentment and comfort that she has found in the
embrace of a new love. The next song, “Little Green,” shows a child born
to a scared mother and an absent father. The “old man” in the previous
song seems to have taken off, leaving a wounded woman to deal with her
own helplessness.
“Carey” is an upbeat, cheerful tune about partying and remembering
blissful times. The lines “Let’s have a…round for these friends of
mine/Let’s have another round for the bright red devil who keeps me in
this tourist town,” describe a wild night that the subject is not quite able
to forget. In “Blue,” Joni is back to reality, saddened again by her own
depressive state. The dark, solemn song has the author alone, writing a
song for someone who once loved her. She says, “A foggy lullabye/Here is
a song from me.”
“California” informs us of the author’s distaste with her present
whereabouts. The song features Joni on her trademark dulcimer,
strumming melodically and singing about a miserable trip to Paris. Joni
misses her normal life in California (or wherever she feels she belongs) so
badly that she is willing to “kiss a sunset pig.” The next gem, “This Flight
Tonight,” has Joni back on an airplane, doing what she does best –
writing. “This Flight Tonight” is a fast-paced, simple ditty about the
author’s fear of flying, though it seems that the terror lies in the
destination rather than the trip itself.
“River,” arguably Joni’s most personal song on the album, puts her back in
a place where she does not belong. Throughout the album, Joni is trying
to find herself and her place in the world, which “River” describes by use
of her vocals and a sad piano. “I wish I had a river/I could skate away
on,” describes the way she and every person deals with their own pain
and loneliness. “A Case of You” continues with these miserable thoughts,
putting them on a bar stool and drinking their troubles away. This song
has an ironic connection with “Carey,” but this time Joni is drinking for a
different reason.
The last song on BLUE, “The Last Time I Saw Richard,” is a slow, romantic
tale of Joni’s past love, presumably the subject of a few songs that
appeared earlier in the record. “Richard” brings listeners and the author
full circle, finishing the emotional cycle on which they embarked on “All I
Want.” The last line of the song and the album states, “Only a
phase/These dark café days.” Joni is lonely, yet hopeful at the same time.
She is optimistically believing that these hard times are soon to end, and
that something else will come along and whisk her away from her
problems.
Joni Mitchell’s BLUE remains one of the most personal and well-written
album in history. Her honest andlyrics are poetry set to a simple,
strumming acoustic guitar. BLUE gave an entire generation of young
women the opportunity and encouragement to pick up a guitar and a pen,
and to begin writing the story of her own life. Many would agree that Blue
is the soundtrack of a generation, as well as the words of hope, fear, and
anguish that mere mortals can not put into words. Joni does that and
more, inspiring every listener along the way.
contact: willymiller02
Weep, but gently (for
George Harrison and his
fans)
By Echo Poetica
Weep, but gently
because the lonliness I
feel
without that guitar is the
worst.
He waseyed,
civilized
too glorified.
Ready.
Weep, but gently
If you know the grave is
not final
And if you don't,
We'll hold hands.
Weep, but gently
For prayers and fields and
laughter
Are the same thing
anyway.
contact: sgtpprsgrl
Walk On
(Dedicated to the late
George Harrison)
By Timothy Bruderek
As lines of love
spray forth from your
grave face,
Walk on.
Through frosted fields,
with cap turned down
And head held high.
Walk on, dear friend,
as I return
with rain in my eyes,
hugging my guitar
with two severed strings.
Walk on, for us all.
I'll hold your shaking
hands
when my day arrives.
You'll light your way
by the light of the world.
Walk on,
into spring, into territories
unknown by the friends
you've departed.
I fold my fingers
And pray for rain
and your spirit to shine on
me.
As you leave, you only
continue
Walk on
contact: willymiller02
America
By Nicole
America
In a trampled Victory Garden
Under sallow, spacious skies,
Among the beds of patriots,
The grave of Country lies.
The fury and the fervor
Of one nation, under God,
Are buried under Easy Street
And apathetic sod.
It bears no mark or headstone
To herald of its fate,
And those who tread upon it
Know not of love or hate
Of nation or of country--
No enemy is threat.
A War is fought by telephone,
No soldier breaks a sweat.
Worthy of this nation
Were patriot's last breaths.
I wonder--is this nation
Worthy of their deaths?
contact: nikki6127
Draft Blame
By Echo Poetica
77% would favor a draft:
That which they opposed.
That which fucked them up.
That which made them want a country where they'd
Swear not to draft their sons.
I blame our republican bearing fathers,
Our flag sewing mothers
For misrepresenting all that they were
And for letting us idealize
And swearing, if this ever happened,
It would be through this lens so
BLACK and WHITE like
VIETNAM or CIVIL RIGHTS.
Now they're about to card all Arabs,
And shout the insults.
They undo what their thirty years has done
While I stand on a corner, confused in a joint with a joint
Afraid to ask them why they'll take my boyfriend away,
And where is our Bob Dylan?
Where are our flowers?
We never had any to be gone
We never saw any grow in our forced
Multicultural garden (except for the Arabs,
Because we're not supposed to like them
now).
But I'm not two, and I can't ask questions of you.
I feel sickened for those that do
For they'll receive the most innocent of lies
About what you were and why you didn't go
To a war you didn't believe in,
Killing people you didn't believe in
That weren't even in the country you're in
But now, you're sending me out.
The gap widens, generation, take care.
contact: sgtpprsgrl
Land Lacking Love, or American Hypocrisy
By Echo Poetica
It's not the God Bless Americas -
They're not that bad.
There's your ignorance and your anonymity behind
A hundred thousand pie baking star stripers.
People like you are partly to blame,
With your intolerance
(Rivaled only by bin Laden and your devil,
In such order!)
You say
(YOU! In YOUR generation!)
That I don't get the seriousness
of it all.
I watched the towers fall
As did my tears.
But if your God, in which, (you suggest
I hope) blesses America
Does not concur with my solid institution,
Married infatuation
Needuful surviving dependence
on love
And understanding--
And yes, I'll preach now, like you:
I believe in love,
and if that's not close enough to your definition of God Bless America, then
you can take your version of
God
and
SHOVE IT.
contact: sgtpprsgrl
Why We'll Never Let the Middle East Become a Democracy
By Piat Orendain
I don't consider myself as an expert. Neither do I think that I could flout the opinions of a former Secretary of
State like that of the renowned James Rubin, former Secretary under the Clinton Administration. No, I'm not so
arrogant to suggest that I'm right and that he's wrong. After all, he's seasoned, I'm just an amateur
international relations analyst fresh out of college. But, I'm not going to clam up just because those who've got
authority are throwing their opinions out there and are contrary to mine. I've got lots of respect for Mr. Rubin, I
just think that he missed his mark on his recent analysis of the economic and political stunting of the Middle East
as discussed in a panel discussion by Middle East Economic Digest in London early this morning.
His analysis and overview of the Middle Eastern situation after the panel discussion is documented in the
Slate.com under his posted diary (http://www.thepaperbackwriter.com/spacer.gif).
The panel evidently discussed "why there is so little democratic development in the Middle East?" To this, Rubin
and the panel concur that democratic development in the MidEast might be better facilitated if "more information
is disseminated." I readily agree with Rubin and his economic colleagues. Better education and better, clearer,
information is a must in the promotion of a "moresociet[y]." However, I have to point out a couple of
things that would 1)hinder this policy and 2)make it impossible for the United States to conduct business and
politics between it and MidEast states.
First off, who says that democracy is superlative to other types of regimes? We cannot use America as an
example, it isn't a real democracy . And for those true democracies that exist out there and function relatively
well, it must needs be understood that those democracies function only because they have an ancient history of
being able to handle a system based on majority rule.
A friend of mine did his Seminar Paper, a major requirement in order to graduate from our university, on Native
American Tribes. He postulated that those tribes that had a history of majority rule since before the continent's
conquest would fare better in a modern democratic system, than those who didn't have this political
characteristic built into their culture. This, of course, is also true vice-versa; i.e. tribes that were traditionally
based on absolute rule would thrive under a modern-day version, but not under a democratic one.
Paul, my friend who was doing this research, found out through qualitative measurements that his hypothesis
was correct more often than not. I argue that what works for the Native Americans, probably works elsewhere
in the world too. I think that to point out South Korea, Indonesia, Thailand, and Taiwan as evidence that
historical political tendencies disprove the theory above is not prudent. Let's be realistic here, none of these
Asian tigers are true democracies. They are democracies run the "Asian" way. In other words, the people can
vote, but there are certain civil liberties that aren't bothered with. And, when the president or prime minister
wants something done "just because" there is no doubt in my mind that these heads of state will begin to look
more and more like "strong-men" when and if they have to force the issue. Just take a look at that silly rule
about gum in Indonesia all because the Prime Minister stepped in some formerly used gum and ruined his shoes.
Rubin makes another point about the Latin American democratic success stories. Again, those regimes may be
democratic on paper, but that doesn't necessarily guarantee that strong-men won't come to the fore when they
feel they need to. These little so-called democracies are far too fragile and weak to really be deemed as such.
Now, I bring up these examples because they are what we can expect of the Middle East. The only difference is
that it's going to be a lot harder to foment these little democracies in the MidEast as, we all know, most of these
states are Islamic in their temperament. This means that democracy is very unlikely to succeed in there, or will
have a difficult time staying up and satisfying the people.
We often forget that Islam isn't just a way of life or a religion, it is a political vehicle. Again, I look to the research
of my friend Paul and his testimony that antiquated political qualities are passed on from one generation to the
next. What the Muslims believe, whether they be Shi'ite or Sunni, is that the perfect leader will be one who takes
after exactly like the Prophet Mohammad. It is reasonable that they would want a prefect that espoused the life
of Mohammad, it is even reasonable to expect societal leaders to set the example by living like Mohammad. What
is a little bit less known is the expectation that Mohammad was also a warrior-general and a statesman, a soldier
as well as a policy maker. In order for Muslims to really respect a leader one must embrace and practice all
aspects of the Mohammedian life, which means a leader has to be pious, has to do politics, has to set the social
example, and also wage war as the general of the Muslim faith.
You can't expect to have a competent leader in the Middle East to be accepted by the people if s/he doesn't
champion all aspects of the Prophet. That's a lot to expect from a leader, so it's going to be very hard to find
one of these guys. Furthermore, the leader is dictatorial and arbitrary, he shouldn't have to listen to the people
to make his decision, he's, after all, the representative of the Prophet. So, how can we expect the MidEast to
adapt to democracy?
One solution is to not expect them to adapt to democracy at all. What works for some, doesn't necessarily work
for another (remember Sesame Street boys and girls?). The reason why we want them to be democratic is
because we 1)think democracy is superior to all other forms of politics as we ourselves practice it. 2)We want
the Middle East to be democratic because evidence suggests that there have not been any democracies that
have fought each other to this date. Democracy proliferates peace. That's a great incentive to advocate it. But
an even better incentive is that if there is peace, there is better trading relations, if there is better trading
relations, there is more money to be had by entrepreneurs.
Ah yes, greed, the best inspiration or provocation a leader could ask for.
The thing is, do we even really want the Middle East to become democratic? For all intents and purposes, and if
commercial congruity is really our main objective, then I believe that the democratization of the Middle East will
eventually cause a backlash so huge that it will hurt us rather than really help us. I mean, in the short run, things
might go a little smoother between western, developed nations and the Middle East. Many people would become
filthy rich. But, eventually, the people will rebel, the government we used to favor would become an enemy, and
we'd lose the commercial ties that are so important to businesses.
Education, dissemination of information, democratization, it all leads to a better way of life. It also demands
more understanding of the way the world works and how nations play games with each other. In plain English,
people will get smart and decide that material goods aren't enough, freedom of speech isn't enough, basic
education isn't enough. They will begin to demand more from the government because they do, indeed, deserve
more. They will begin to believe that it is the government's duty to provide if power, money, and control are
given to their elected officials to lead.
Now, to a Marxist like me, this is great! People getting smarter, people more wary of being pushed around and
used, asking for better living conditions. This is wonderful! Problem is that our government isn't Marxist, it's a
pseudo-democracy that endorses free enterprise, capitalism. With more and more parts of the world becoming
democratic, educated, and aware, all of a sudden capitalism isn't so hot anymore. Nor is it so profitable
anymore.
Why is this? Well, capitalism needs a body of people to exploit in terms of production as well as consumption.
Since people in westernized, long-standing democracies demand a certain amount of human and labor rights,
capitalism can't exploit it's own citizens in the production sector. It exploits it's own people by making them
consume cheaply made products from third-world, probably not democratic countries, that are jacked-up in
price. One of those third-world, probably not democratic, countries that produces the cheap good but sold at
higher prices probably comes from the Middle East.
What happens when the Middle East becomes democratic, peaceful, better educated, more demanding of
human and labor conditions? Well, that's just the beginning of the end of capitalism and the beginning of the end
of our own economy. Without labor to exploit, companies will have to actually pay people in real money that's
relevant to the cost of living *gasp!* If that happens, consumers can't be exploited either because the cost of
production will go so high that in order for businesses to profit, prices will rise to exorbitant rates. If this
happens, consumers won't buy the products and that's the death of our consumer-driven economy.
So, while all these politicos talk a lot of hub-bub about the importance of proliferating democracy to these rogue
states, it's all just a bunch of crap that they want us to swallow so that we can have faith and trust in our
government. A lot of you are going to write back to me saying that this isn't true.
Well, consider this chickadees, why did we let the CIA throw out Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953 from Iran? He
was one of the most pro-western, pro-democratic presidents in the Middle East. Why do these really democratic
leaders in Latin America keep getting assassinated and of course, in the ensuing chaos, must be replaced by an
interim despotic leader that will comply with the wishes of the western powers? That guy declares martial law in
order to protect the citizens and he's only supposed to stay there until stability arrives. Usually, that person
stays indefinitely and once again, democracy in that state is thwarted; capitalism is saved.
Or, think of this, why is it that we don't seem to care too much that we get all of our stuff from China? Hey, it's
cheap right?! It's cheap because labor is dirt cheap in China. Can you imagine what would happen to our
economy if China all of a sudden became democratic and humanistic? Prices of almost everything would shoot
through the roof!
Of course, this will never happen because our CIA will never allow it to happen. The CIA will do whatever it takes
when they get that executive order because, as we all should know, big businesses are the puppet masters of
our politicians.
There you have it. The main reason why the Middle East will never become a successful fount of democracy is
because big business won't let it happen and because that region is incompatible with the inherent, pluralistic
character of democracy. So before you write back to me, consider these reasons above. Is this war really about
justice? Are what politicians and analysts really talking about what's good for us and good for other nations? Or,
is really just good for big business? Is democracy really right for some countries? If you don't believe me, do
some homework, bub. It's all there in the pages of history, buried deep and written esoterically so you don't
really understand what's happening.
contact: porendain
Tuesday, The Madness Began
By David Norris
This day, I can hardly remember what day
this is, but it was today
that this madness began.
I realized what the subtle truth had been,
the subtle truth protruding
like a stick from the mud.
We met at the minister's house, seven of us,
all proper ladies, each of us.
But why should our stations matter?
It was the news that shocked us;
that it could happen was so preposterous,
that none of us were safe to walk the streets.
Even thus, we left to make our ways to our
homes. In a small, silent cluster
we crossed beneath the luster
of half-bare trees.
The police and those fighting the fires and others
confused like us were all about,
wandering in the streets.
Victims of visions, power, and bloodlust,
they staggered all about us.
We found ourselves upon a firing range;
saw ourselves as clay figures stuck upon a wheel
revolving slowly in rhythm to the strange
carnival sounds of this insane
world that had suddenly come upon us with its horror.
When Joan fell, her head
crackedlike an eggshell.
I ran. Somehow I managed to escape,
but don't ask me. Do not ask me! I don't know how.
There were screams and other sounds around me.
But everything was so confused;
the buildings grew; I
felt so small.
Finally, I found this damp basement.
The walls sweat in a clammy nausea.
The steps are wooden. They're
like blinds drawn
across the sky, but the sky is
gray, gray cinderblock and wood.
The crickets scurry everywhere in the dust.
The rainy season has come,
and it is cold. I shall have
to wear my hooded coat to stay warm.
I've lost the gold button to my dress.
My hair is all mussed; I must look a mess.
contact: dnorris
This issue was divided into: OTHER, MUSIC, and 9/11 TRAGEDY
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