Long Liberal arts Poems

 Translation of Eric Mottram’s Poem 33 in Interrogation Rooms by T. Wignesan

33.  on a vu un homme courir/ de la scène de crime un homme est maintenant en train d’aider/ la police avec...

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We could invite many ways
to slice and dice the prism
EcoFeminist.

I first ran into this label
when spoken by a sexual advocate
in the early 70s
at the University of Michigan,
from the mouth of a transgendering ecofeminist
who felt more...

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Imagine
if you would be so kind,
join me
in striving to become 
less blind

Brilliant God says:
Give to your oppressively militarized government
weaponized suppressive
defensively repressive
straight white monotheistic privilege
paid for in tax advantages

And so
it was nationalistically done

Every fall
all co-invested residents...

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What is wrong with deficit-growing expenditures
to continue supporting LeftBrain industrialized secular present
and past well-financed war-mongering threats
against nations
and people
and plants
and planet?

And nuclear ballistic arm-building,
and a Hummer and automatic defense rifle
for every Red, White, and TrueBlue household,

But...

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I was listening, last night,
to a sympathetic defense
for conserving liberal arts
and producing deeper and wider liberating sciences
including healthy democratic
politically empowering science.

Once again
I am hearing about the persuasive prominence of identity,
how we label our ego-political selves,
as...

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She knows what it means,
and must never not mean,
to work with newborn win/win children
perverted by wounding RightWing patriarchal punishments
overpowering LeftWing ecofeminist invitations
to liberality of loyal transparency 
and lovely vulnerability.

When she asserted her sociological conclusion:
Too many...

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You,*

                               Hard-of-hearing,

   ...

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II.
Do you know of lovely Janice,
freshman in university,
Dad sent her to expand her mind,
to reason and think critically,
hoping that it would prepare her
for a world that often is harsh,
instead she came back spouting stuff,
that was...

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Do we still belong together,
long to compassion with each other
more than against?

Do we still believe
Earth is more of a regeneratively developing memory
than a degeneratively unraveling lack of cherished experience?

Can we still distinguish between
organic becoming
and autonomous...

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When we walk the campus
			to what used to be the center,
			we might miss the venerable place.
			Taller piles of brick and towers
			obscure the central space
			of Western Pennsylvania brownstone.
			Who hasn’t heard the poet moan:
			“Present concerns shroud the...

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When he is a young man
He stands head thrown slightly back, 
Tie straight, proud flag flying high on the ships main mast
He is full of ideas, thoughts and the deepest sense of self and selflessness....

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Did I learn a worthy trade?  Study war as a warrior? 
Was I a helper, a first responder,
nurse, nanny, priest, pumpkin farmer,
a horny handed laborer,
did I lecture nitwit’s on the liberal arts or economics?
None...

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I was read to as a child,every night at bed
Fairy tales, short stories, prose, or poems is what was read
Beatrix Potter, Mother Goose, Childcraft books were chose
But my favorite things to listen to were poetry...

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Poet: Ken Jordan
Poem: I Am Venice
Edited by: Sparkle Jordan
written: May/2014


I am
Venice -

I am
a 
west coast

oceanfront 
town -

I am 
the one

who
sing
and dance,

on the 
boardwalk -

And
I'm 
the one

who fly's
kites

roller skate,
fish
and surf -

I am
a
muralist,

I  paint
pictures
of
legends

on 
the city
walls -

I'm a
greeter

that
waves
to
visitors,

I say
welcome,

whether 
you're

large, tall
big 
or 
small -

I am
Venice;

every color
in 
the rainbow...

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