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About The North Coast times-eagle. (Wheeler, Oregon) 1971-2007 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 1, 2007)
PAGE 13 NORTH COAST TIMES EAGLE, JA B R U A R Y & M A R PR IL 2007 /MP/ LIQUIFIED NATURAL GAS Any tanker that will carry LNG will be tossed hard by the notorious conflicting waters at our river’s mouth, or, surviving those, could become the target for some zealot just now born, who years from now will climb aboard this floating hearse, turn a valve handle, light a match — one of several stuck in his boot, just to make sure — and start the conflagration that will make the diners at the river’s edge, and the tourists buying small-town trinkets, and the lawyer attending a port commission meeting, and the dentist deadening an open mouth, and the parking meter employee chalking a tire, and the woman walking into City Hall to pay her water bill, and the dog barking at a scrabble of crows in its yard, and the plumber cleaning the U-pipe under a sink, and the student nurse performing her first catheterization, and the kid walking his skateboard to the other side of the hill, and the grandparent counting out cash for a grandchild’s birthday present, and the man using his cell phone while walking down the sidewalk, and a shopkeeper putting a “back soon” sign on the door of the shop, and the fifteen girls and boys clapping their hands in the nursery school, all stop all at once in unison so to speak, under the superheated blast that was sparked by the match, and now travels the path of the wind off our ocean so that moments afterwards, the obsidian black of the town melt will be what our roads lead to, and all those mentioned and not mentioned a swift ash within a blinding monument of flame. JAMIE BOYD IN MEMORY OF STAN “THE MARBLE MAN" BROWN 1942-2006 -CAROLYN DUNN (1/18/2007) TIME IS A DIAL The Marble Man with the shop by the corner you could see the sandwich sign pointing there - . . artistically saying marbles and if you followed the path you’d hear the tingle of the bells as you opened the door You look around and see you’ve stepped into a magical place a place of innocence where a man accomplished his dream the Marble Man full of smiles he greets you with enthusiasm giving a lift to your heart A marble so simple one may think yet the complexity of the art is beautiful and like the Marble Man could touch your heart The Marble Man a pirate of the globes of glass a saint who took lost souls and gave them hope and made them feel like they belonged As you pay for that one of a kind marble only found in the shop of wonders the Marble Man says “Don’t forget your lucky marble" In a world of no hope I am trying to have some When will you let us prevail When will you pay back the ones who have been faithful for it seems so far away that morale is growing thin I feel as if my troops are low on ammo and the front lines have just been lost I am tired The white flag has flown before and we’ve retreated to regain ourselves for the last time We run now in the abyss as courageous warriors alone in the world of unwanted friends and you have left us -EBON BERGERON Time is a dial of immense proportions; Space is the distance between its strokes; Light is the lenses of vast distortions; Gravity holds together its works. Eras are sweeps of the pendulum swinging; Epochs are marked by the length of its pause; Spheres are the notes of a huge alarm ringing. Man's a result that thinks him a cause. Life is vibrations in strange combinations; Love is the law that secures them in place. Mind is reaction to all variations; Man is riding the pedant in space Civility comes with the pendulum forward; Savagery grows with its retrograde flight. Man is a beast when the pendant moves backward; Backward the weaklings lose hold on the right. Dead is a world shaken loose at the changing. Born is a world with the shift of its beat. Timidly man starts a renaissance cringing. Boldly he flies to his savage retreat. All this reality is nothing but concept — Nightmares perhaps of an infinite mind; Direction is more important than precept; Cause and effect — neither cruel nor kind. Somebody’s getting played today Somebody’s getting raped today Somebody’s getting taken for a ride Somebody thought they were safe on the inside Somebody’s house is filling up with gas Somebody just lit another match Somebody covers up their eyes and ears Somebody thinks it’s getting hot in here Somebody got blinded by the light Somebody’s resting peacefully tonight ~MADI LYNN THE MINUET -TERESA BARNES Bright mornings. Days when I want so much I want nothing Just this life, and no more. Still, I hope no one comes along. But if someone does, I hope it’s her The one with the little diamond stars at the toes of her shoes The girl I saw dance the minuet That antique dance. The minuet. She danced that the way it should be danced And the way she wanted Backward and forward the pendant is swinging; Man never climbs where the movement is slow. Backward and forward, weeping or singing; Backward and forward forever we go. -RUSSELL ALLEN MITCHELL Russell Allen Mitchell wrote this poem more than 40 years ago. His son, Russell Mitchell Jr., has agreed to allow its publication in the NC TE, courtesy of Leslie Miller. Russell Sr has since died. THE NEO-CON MAN (based on 'THE CANDY MAN CAN') Who can take your country and steal it from under your feet, draft your sons and daughters and make them ground meat? The Neocon, oh yes the Neocon can! The Neocon doesn’t ever, ever smile and always judges you! Who will take your job and send it overseas Steal your wages and bennies so you can work at JC Penny’s? The Neocon can, oh yes the Neocon can! Those corporate folks are sick and twisted blokes, greedy and completely heartless They will never stop 'til they've enslaved us. while they can go gamble in Vegas Who Can Who Can Who Can Who Can? Oh the Neocon can, cause they’re sad and pathetic men! They wreck the whole world for you, but not for them! -RAYMOND CARVER (This poem is printed to commemorate the golden birthday' of Minuet McCarthy, who is 6 on the 6th o f February) -LUKE MEAD I I