Thepoetryman's Newsletter

A RANT (Newsletter)

(In association with A Poetic Justice (Don’t burn the flag. Wash it!)

By Thepoetryman

Wow! It has been a good while since last you saw one of these! No! Not the photomontage above, you’ve never seen that, I was talking about The APJ Newsletter! It’s been what, six, seven, eight weeks? My only excuse is that I have none. But here we are, eh? You reading and I'm jabbering on about my inconsistent behavior.

Let’s get to the business of useful information before you hit the dreaded delete button, shall we?


The header of this email is actually the latest addition to my copious blogs. It is rather self-explanatory don’t you think? RANT! I mean the idea is right there in the word! RANT! Of course one can rant about anything under the sun given the inclination to do so, but since most of you are familiar with my works of poetry, plays, short-short stories and photomontage you probably know what the subject of my rants would be, and you’d be correct.

Most people that know me personally might find the word “rant” rather appropriate, but some of you who are only privy to my work online might find it a bit hard to believe that I can string more than two sentences, let alone paragraphs together without breaking into verse. Some of you may find me to be more like a Broadway musical than a ranter and some of you may find me more a ranter than a Broadway triple threat, so I do hope this new site RANT settles the rumors of my iampentameterous tongue or my otherwise eversible utterances.

(What the hell does that mean?)

Well, iampentameterous is a new word I just made up based on iambic pentameter- a line of poetry that is made up of five units of rhythm, for example, five pairs of stressed and unstressed syllables- which I can hardly lay claim to, and eversible is a condition of being turned outward which I can certainly lay claim to!


Need a taste before you enter the land of RANT? Okay.

Here’s a nibble:

“This man is not to be made fun, he is to be pitied. He is a product of people like Ted Nugent, and Ted Nugent is a product of other Ted Nugent’s, and they are all the byproduct of years and years of the (1) dumbing down of the American education system, particularly K through 12, (2) which includes the educators. They are a product as well of (3) the lack of any worthy historical perspectives and of (4) the growing divide and disconnect between the rich and the middleclass/poor.

And here’s a snack:

“I’d like to take this opportunity to express my thoughts and with all due respect, speak bluntly, Mr. President.

Nothing in particular really, just a random chain of cognitive ideas wrought by your blundering half-cocked-swagger-accented-“heh”-times three-strut that tumbles out your Milli Vanilli cowboy giddy-up spittoon wet with nothing coherent, or true, or resembling good English, or honor, trust, strength, anything at all respectable, or even within an nth of godliness, just a haphazard chain of disingenuous spaghetti westernized one-liners of insidious claptrap-twaddle-rubbish gurgling and splattering projectile spittle out down and on your never-been-man-enough-to-do-anything-on-your-own-without-daddy-or-mommy-or-your-team-of-sycophant-whispering-sweet-nukular-nothings-in-your-ear-of-never-had-any-real-character-to- speak-of existence only to reflect on your heroes- Larry Curly Moe and the oft ignored Shemp-“ Again…what are you waiting for? Contribute your own rant! I will create a photomontage to match it!


Hey, poetryman?

Yes, voice in my head?

Why don’t you can the get-rich quick scheme and give these dear readers something they can sink their teeth into?

Good idea, voice in my cranium.


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That’s better…but is that it?

Oh. Right. Sorry, voice in my cranium.

Do you thing that’s funny?

You asked me not to call you “the voice in my head”.

And you think substituting “cranium” for “head” is the way to appease me, your muse?

Just trying to be funny. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of my head this morning…

First; you’re not funny. Second; from my vantage point it matters not which side of your head I awake from; they’re both humorless.

That’s an odd way to put.

It was a perfectly legitimate way to put it. With utter honesty.


Stop talking to me and give these people something of substance!

Okay. Aaaaaah… Dab a dab…Dat’s all folks!

Why me? Of all the writers in the world, why did I get “muse duty” with a humorless twit?

Careful there, sweetcheeks, I could run for president someday…


A Small Hand

The new light was lean;
like a horrid serpent
it made its nest.

It slipped over the eyes of the children
certain not to rouse them of their sleep.

The wailing came next,
its throat
with its lament
a woeful tide of loss.

Faint at first
to shattering pale prayers
with its great howl.

Have we not enough
madness, destruction,
man’s angry shell
over children's throats?

Are there now
other rifles to aim,
bombs to plunge
like God’s will?

Her small hand motions to us
from the mists of tomorrow,
pleading, come forward
out war’s great sorrow.

© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman


Until next time…let’s liberate the peace…

Mark (thepoetryman)