Pierrot at the Show

November 14, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | ART, PETER'S WRITING |

(By August Macke)

[In the fashion of online construction, transient and elusive as painting fresco – see The Faerie Queen of Estonia – we offer our arts wrap ups in the Great Poet‘s invention, terza rima] Dear Calliope, I am not all that keen To finish up this long account And serve as a meal not fit for a queen. So from my high horse I dismount And warily survey the scene, An open mind is paramount, And hopefully, a brain washed clean (Not confused with an empty mind) To precisely process the heard and seen — Within the Kingdom of the Blind,…

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Canticle of the Sun

November 1, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING |

First Pope by Rubens

Sometimes only faith makes sense, The soul tires, sat on the fence, Balancing on the swaying timbers, Dug into the dying cinders. When the trope du jour is worn Out, when recall that we were born Comes, cast around a little more In this wicked world, start searching for A new design, another one To shade the screeching soulless sun. While on the sun, a modern trend Yet all too old, the welcome end Of time, shall serve as our device, To inculpate all human vice. So Hail Mary! Spread the wealth, Frack off! Cease digging coal by stealth, Lights out –…

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The Hermit Kingdom

October 19, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING, POLITICS |

I’m well aware I’m a little dumb, When it comes to fact I am under your thumb But how can I possibly believe These things he does when in a peeve? Shooting men with some anti-tank gun For nothing; presumably, for fun Because he can. Oh, I know his hair Is silly, but that cannot be fair, When we’ve Hillary and Donald Trump. Showing their dead wigs on the stump Before adoring crowds, which they all share. How do we know he doesn’t care For his people? They talk a different game And subsume their souls unto his fame, They venerate…

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I’m a Friend of a Friend of the People

October 16, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING |

Image from "Cool Hand Luke" (1967)

(for Joyce Carol Oates, with thanks for Where are you going, Where have you been?)   You down there! On the shining path; Hustling that toaster Into your bath, Making plans! Writing letters, Fervidly seeking to Loosen fetters That stay you to the rock! That holds you from the path, Ending all the narrative Within a hollow laugh; Useless as the weather! Swirling in the brain, The keenest void of sound That equivocates the pain Of a clammy, sticky mouth And a tongue that has no end, Giving you a taste The nip before you comprehend. Flooding all your senses So you…

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On The Vigil

September 8, 2015 | Posted by Peter Jakobsen | PETER'S WRITING |

Image of President al-Assad by Ranan Lurie

There’s a candlelight vigil in the evening; All gather near the shelters, the rotunda, and they sing For swathes of the oppressed and lines of displaced refugees, But who will light a candle for the cause of this disease? My lion has a calm and pleasant manner when he roars. He’d never sanction poor behaviour, in or out of doors, He has a birthday coming up, so let us light for him A special taper carved out from a line of seraphim. Off you go and wring your hands and change the way you feel, I’ll strike a light for al-Assad and…

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