Thursday, October 10, 2013

Poets For Change

As you’ve probably gathered over the years, I, like a lot of people, harbor some activist inclinations.  Now, I’m not one to go out and protest, at least not unless there’s a tailgating opportunity.  What I do is formulate an argument (or rebuttal to another argument), write it up and post it here.  On occasion, I’ll write in to the local paper.

I come by this inclination honestly, having learned from my parents, my mom in particular.  While she’s also written tons of Letters to the Editor over the years, she doesn’t write a blog.  She makes poems instead.

Recently, poets in Pensacola took part in the “100 Thousand Poets for Change” event.  No, “Poets for Change” is not a panhandling scheme, although I bet it would be more effective than the usual “hard luck” story.  It’s a nationwide series of readings where local poets gather to read their work and inspire positive change.  (At least 50 cents worth.)

Mom took to the mic and read her poem, “Gunsmoke.”  Given the Deep South locale, I imagine it was a pretty tough sell, but it seemed to go over well.  I’m guessing she had a wooden spoon in her back pocket.  No one crosses a lil Italian mother with a wooden spoon.

The best part of the event is that they filmed all the readers and posted the videos on YouTube, so that people like me, who live 5 states away, can see the readings.  And it gives me the opportunity to relay it for you, wherever you are.

So with that, may I present, MC Lil Mother!

I don’t know how she arranged for the bells to toll at the end.  Age and treachery, I suppose. 

To me, the only thing missing would be for her to drop the mic at the end, and shuffle off the stage.


  1. Next year, I will drop the mike and shuffle off the stage. (Thought I did that this year).
    Bells were a gift. I was more worried about motorcycles at the intersection.

    1. Make sure you hold it out before dropping it. Oh, and try to drop it on something soft.

  2. Its pretty obvious where your writing talents come from, well done MOM.

    1. No question. I totally get my sense of word usage from Mom.

  3. Roses are red
    Violets are blue
    Re-open the fucking government.

    (drops mic and walks off)

  4. Rosws are gone.
    Violets depart.
    Government wind isn't worth a good fart.

    itizens cry.
    Lobbyists moan.
    Our new fallen dead are left all alone.

    We rage
    and we grumle.
    Our plight is absurd.
    Talking heads ramble
    without a sound word.

    Leaders who dither
    firm in their stand
    will find nothing remains
    of our sad, betrayed land.

    (Three bells toll)

    1. The Darwinfish Community: Providing inspiration since 2009.

  5. Typos abound. Wanted: a keen eyed editor.


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