"Unsuffer Me"

Unlock my love

And set me free

Come fill me up

With ecstasy

Surround my heartbeat

With your fingertips

Unbound my feet

Untie my wrists

Come in to my world

Of loneliness

And wickedness

And bitterness

Unlock my love

Unsuffer me

Take away the pain

Unbruise, unbloody

Wash away the stain

Anoint my head

With your sweet kiss

My joy is dead

I long for bliss

I long for knowledge

Whisper in my ear

Undo my logic, undo my fear

Unsuffer me

Lucinda Williams

The Greatest Goal Ever -6/22/86

Maradona has the ball, 
two mark him, 
he touches the ball. 

The genius of world football 
dashes to the right 
and leaves the third 
and is going to pass to Burruchaga. 
It’s still Maradona! 

Genius! Genius! Genius! 
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. 
Gooooooooooal! Gooooooooooal! 

I want to cry! Dear God! 
Long live football! 
Gooooooooooal! Diegoal! Maradona! 

It’s enough to make you cry, 
forgive me. 
Maradona, in an unforgettable run, 
in the play of all time. 

Cosmic kite! What planet are you from? 
Leaving in your wake so many Englishmen, 
so that the whole country is a clenched fist 
shouting for Argentina? 

Argentina 2, England 0. 
Diegoal, Diegoal, Diego Armando Maradona. 

Thank you, God, 
for football, 
for Maradona, 
for these tears, 
for this, 
Argentina 2, England 0.

VICTOR HUGO MORALES’S RADIO ARGENTINA COMMENTARY

Video:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RiYYSradplU

City of Blinding Lights

Mt 5:14-16

The town on the hill

was blessed with a 

great light.

The poor

the lame

the weak

from the 

surrounding villages

saw the light

but could not go up

the hill

to experience the light.

They shouted up to

the town

to bring the light 

down the hill 

and to their villages.

But the town said, 

"No. There are too many technical issues.

Will the darkness swallow up the light?

Will we lose some (or all!) of the light

if we give it away?

What can you give us in

exchange for the light?

We will have to examine this

in much further detail

before we do anything."

The Accused

Just as he locked the door, as he pocketed the key,
as he glanced over his shoulder, they arrested him.
They tortured him until they tired of it.
‘Look,’ they said,
‘the key is your key, the house is your house,
we accept that now; but why did you put the key
in your pocket as if to hide it from us?’

They let him go, but his name is still on a list.

Yannis Ritsos
translated from the Greek by David Harsent

Thanks, Mr. Sun

I’m thankful the sun starts slow
and glides in a graceful burning
arc across the firmament. I don’t
think I could handle life if ole’ Sol
was a herky-jerky-shakey-jake.
Mr. Sun stays in his own lane,
daily commuting with polite constancy,
never nervous about missing
something like a primo parking spot.
For a fireball it seems to have it all
together, unshyly shining golden on
this blue-born world’s flappable.

John Blase

Aftermath

I think the Rapture is bunk.

But

 imagine an aftermath

of:

Insurance companies getting religion

and declaring the Rapture

an Act of God

as they stiff their policy-holders.

Consider a sight of

 several hundred million children 

gone off to the Kingdom.

Elementary school teachers 

 to teach the ones 

that were left behind.

The one per-centers

texting: WTF

Where did the help go?

The pastor who

didn't get caught up in the clouds

wondering if

 he would have a flock to tend?

Bullies will miss their patsies.

Patrons will remember their bartenders.

High school kids will revere the cheerleader.

And gossips will ask, 

"Why her? /Why him?"

And all the while,

me and you 

will go through

the departed's

fridges and garages

prepping ourselves for

the Final Days.

The Seven Deadly Sins

Forget about the other six, says Pride.
They're only using you.
Admittedly, Lust is a looker,
but you can do better.

And why do they keep bringing us
to this cheesy dive?
The food's so bad that even Gluttony
can't finish his meal.

Notice how Avarice
keeps refilling his glass
whenever he thinks we're not looking,
while Envy eyes your plate.

Hell, we're not even done, and Anger
is already arguing about the bill.
I'm the only one who
ever leaves a decent tip.

Let them all go, the losers!
It's a relief to see Sloth's
fat ass go out the door.
But stick around. I have a story

that not everyone appreciates
about the special satisfaction
of staying on board as the last
grubby lifeboat pushes away.

Dana Gioia

Gifts

The Prodigal Son
All callow thoughtlessness
Outshone his brother

Unfair or unwise
To favor the miscreant
Yet it's instinctive

We value others
For the love that we give them
Not the love returned


Martin Locock