Wherever You Are, Planet Earth

If you live in a town too small, can’t find an event in the place where you live, if the place where you live would prohibit an event like this, if the authorities would lock you up for organizing, please send me a poem and photo of you holding a sign that says 100 THOUSAND POETS FOR CHANGE and the name of the place wherever you are at the time and I’ll add your contribution to our blog.

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Wherever You Are, Planet Earth — 7 Comments

  1. I always find myself in towns too small, and who knows where I’ll even be in September, but you can count on me to do something, wherever I am.

  2. This is a fantastic event for us, ‘the unseen legislators of the world’.
    “POETS/ are the outlaws, outcasts, oddballs/no one hears or notices./Like blind Homer, intent upon therhythm of the story/we are all that’s ever left.”

    • Mary Ann Napoleone:
      I just discovered the thousand poets event, which I will post on my blog, www kansasplains.blogspot.com, a blog about Kansas writings and Kansas writers. Looks like except for Wherever You Are, the only places in Kansas will be Kansas City, Kansas (yes, a shadow of the bigger Kansas City, MO), and Glasco, which I had to look up on mapquest. If I don’t get lost in the abyrinth of the internet, I want to also post your comment about poets being outlaws, etc. I’m not sure where I will be on September 24, probably back in Joplin, MO., which certainly needs all the poetry it can garner.

  3. I’m too late to send a picture, but here is a bit of rabble for the rousers!!!

    Novus Ordo

    I live beside a golf course, although I never play
    Watching them hack and putt and such and while the hours away

    I wonder how they find the time, seems I never have enough
    Chasing down my hopes and dreams and other fancy stuff

    I asked my friend to help me but he’d just come from those links
    His plan to get a check from me, he always on the brinks

    I’d like to plant some wheat out there or maybe corn and beans
    Some berries on the tee box and lettuce on the greens

    But who would run the sprinklers to water all my crops
    I’d have to do it myself I guess, not to mention, tassel-tops

    Would the guys still come with spiky shoes to aerate all the soil?
    Perhaps come down to bended knee to help me with my toil

    Maybe use their scorecards and tiny little pencils
    To tally up the bushels or help me fix the fence holes

    But then who’d duff about all day upon these fields so green
    Launching minute plastic balls, trying to beat the mean

    ~Final Edit 9/23/2011
    by Mason Atlas Crow

    How Camels and Elephants See Things

    Too big to fail
    Too small to succeed

    So call up the doctors
    And legalize weed

    They’re already hooked on way harder stuff
    Like crystalline rocks and religious re-buff

    The crabs are migrating in a great rolling ball
    We dip in our buckets and hide from the squall

    Who’ll blow the whistle and call ~ Hey Timeout!
    Let’s wake the bear with a ‘Yawp’ and a shout

    Onward they trundle those camels and ele-phants
    Screaming ’bout brambles in unending rants

    Who’s scared of that rustling out there in the brush?
    The next big pariah that threatens to crush

    Our beliefs and our standards ~ Our great way of life
    We’re sick of the drama, fed up with the strife

    A patriot seeks to raise a nation up
    Not add more tears to an overfull cup

    ~MAC 2011


    You say this
    And this and this

    Yes this, I say
    and that and thus

    Again you say this
    But what about this

    Always this
    You dis upon this

    This, this, this
    This, that, thus

    Why all the fuss
    About this, this, this

    When this ’cause of that
    has brought us to thus

    ~MAC 2011


    American dollars spread thin
    Like cold jam on stale bread
    Between logs and people
    Black as pitch on Indian kayaks

    From B to W
    And back to the Tex-arab-i-cans
    Worn proudly like threadbare t-shirts
    Holy from recognition
    Green and Black

    Spilling like water
    In rivulets and streams
    On deserts here and there
    Seeping into the cracks
    Juicing the mossy clingers
    Blue then red then black

    Still we spin and stash and hope
    As it soaks up the Sun
    On liver spotted flesh
    Losers and flowers
    Wave on the breeze
    Tell it to the wind
    Gold, red, white and blue, and black

    ~MAC Final Edit 09/23/2011


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