Comments on: lawrence ferlinghetti | populist manifesto no. 1

By: hatto fischer

hatto fischer — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 10:49:05 +0000

a poem with red lips is ready to leave a mark
strange to remember the first kiss at dawn
over time we forget logs to haul for the fire place
a failure to warm up a place gone cold
when no longer human breath matters
if only poetry as stranger walks in and lights up
again that cabin we used to frequent on our trips

hatto

By: Alison E. Smith

Alison E. Smith — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 09:27:27 +0000

Reblogged this on aesmithwriter and commented: It's poetry day? I think I might carry this poem in my purse, put it on like lipstick when I need to buck up.

By: Red Slider

Red Slider — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 22:30:51 +0000

Entirely correct, Geezer…, and entirely my fault to paren “first-response” to some fire-storm of reactivity. Music, dance, poetry, painting can as easily be “first-response” when hyphened to ‘-love’ and ‘-embrace’ as they can to ‘-rant’ and ‘-agony’. “First-response” is a gesture of focus rather than form. A poem for the family of an imprisoned poet telling of the passion of their loved being amplified and world-sent; or a song for physical first-responders after their day of sifting through the ashes of some catastrophe, that they are the visible part of a human sacrament, or the opening of consciousness that it is up to us to un-destroy the best minds of our generation — all can be acts of first-response, acts of love and kindness. So yes, many paths up this mountain. Just a small change of focus, from warning to preventing, from crying out to finding and uplifting. Sorry if I drew the matter too narrowly

By: Alice Petrie

Alice Petrie — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 22:09:00 +0000

Whatever we think, that is what we get. I turned the dial to off, and peace prevails. Poetry comes softly in the peach sky of a winter morning, smells of coffee, Stars are the fastest light going. None of the icons, thank you.

By: geezergirl1

geezergirl1 — Mon, 07 Jan 2013 13:18:59 +0000

A first-responder… Yes.. A poet for change. Yes. There are ears for poems of all this. And some need to hear it.
I haven’t the anger to give my poetry. My revolt, is a cry for self awakening, kindness, kick the ass outta your caring and get busy being the peace ya wanna see.
In the foray of so much toxicity and negativity, I say, find the love in your heart and feed the Peace, feed what you want to grow. I’m hungry for some positive, soul-full poetics that remind me I am bigger and brighter, and lighter than the fear that’s fed from the media constantly. I choose Love. I want to be mad with love. aaaahhhh. Give me Rumi, Hafiz, and Rilke. Not that they feed the joy and goodness all the time, and they invite the reader to consider a different way to open the heart and listen.
I wanna hear more about all the goodness that’s IS happening out there within the 7M. And, tho’ I don’t embrace my love goddess everyday and imbibe from the pool of light n’ luv, I digging into my positive goodness with vulnerable heart, and inviting the possibility that we find the metaphor that gives us joy in life and git busy living our joy.

By: Red Slider

Red Slider — Sun, 06 Jan 2013 18:06:16 +0000

absolutely time to climb down from our stages, say adios to the “entertainment industry” and get in the trenches. The age of Ginsberg’s ‘Town Criers” is drawing to a close; the age of “First Responders” is opening. Be there, do there. The ghosts of Newtown need voices to shut the mouths and open the ears of gun-nuts. The still dazed of Fukashima-Daichi still burn with specks of sun buried deep under their skin. We don’t need to slam each other for attention – we need to slam the lid on corporate personhood and nail it shut. The poet Muhammad al-Ajami sits in a Qatar prison, handed a life sentence for writing a poem, while our beloved Qatar-financed Al-Jazeera, champion of free-speech doesn’t lift a finger against the hand that feeds it and Al Gore, spokesman for the inconvenient truth, sells his American network to them for 500 million — the hell with crying; put our mouths where the money is – slam them to the ground, bury them in the rubble of Sandy’s oceanfront view of ruined lives and homes. Take back every Occupy zone and city in America that’s been shut down by legal drivel and jackbooted thugs – fire words of fire that they can’t put out — revolting words, justice words, dreaming words. Michael Rothenberg’s 100 Thousand Poets for Change (100TPC.org) is a good place to start. In our prisons, in our classrooms, on the street – our voices our needed to prevent catastrophe, our songs to lift fighting spirits. Every time a catastrophe strikes – a flood, a fire, a climate disaster, a shooting, a rape, a toxic spill, a refugee camp, a drone, a distorted word in a public body; be there, sound, sing, scream and put yourself between the victims and the shock-doctrine bearing down on them. Be a first-responder, be a poet.

By: david eberhardt

david eberhardt — Sun, 06 Jan 2013 16:20:46 +0000

We have seen the best minds of our generation
destroyed by boredom at poetry readings.

i luv it- and this poem- note there are hardly any right wing poems of any value- it’s hard to even find any- Republicans, gun owner (unless left revolutionaries), new yorker poets (in the main), acadeemic, anemic poets- scratching eech others arses-
i think of such poets as Nazim Hikmet, Frank Thomposon, Leon Felippe- poets you never heard of
RIP Jack Gilbert
by the way chk Kathleen Jamie-chek Alice Walker’s poem on Democracy Now- chk Occupy voice chek pome
Now- what r we going to w w john asbery?
dave eberhardt in baltimore

By: hatto fischer

hatto fischer — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 10:21:18 +0000

It is easy to say poets fail but who really listens? Much reminds of Brendan Kennelly’s book called ‘Poetry my Arse’. He came to that conclusion after expriencing it is not good for poets to stay merely amongst poets who would not listen. But the solution is not to praise some sweet song for even we children know how to stumble and fall, and still laugh while doing so, since frolic and freedom can go together when not hostage of twisted minds. It seems some correction is needed but also due recognition for whatever any poet has to say can be a whisper in a forest full of trees standing tall. But this manifesto does give some answers why so much poetry tends to fail to communicate. Especially when he touches upon different levels having to do with the grammar of life. Hatto Fischer Athens 3.1.2013

By: carol gresko

carol gresko — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 22:53:16 +0000

or DRAW………. present t.

By: carol gresko

carol gresko — Wed, 02 Jan 2013 22:51:50 +0000

.
…. the appropriate word is DREW not write