Monday, October 31, 2011

Questions for Republican Candidates

Some questions I'd like to hear asked of the Republican presidential candidates--or any candidates [Congress, President Obama, e.g.]--in debates:

1. Do you have any close friends who live at, below, or near the poverty-line?


2. What manual-labor jobs have you held--what kind, when, and for how long?


3. Would you explain why the trickling in a "trickle-down" economy is a good thing for those being trickled upon?

4. According to generally accepted economic theory, what is the greater source of economic growth, consumer-demand (from, for example, the middle class) or very rich people?


5. Who is your favorite American poet, and why?



6. Do you have any close friends who are gay or lesbian?


7. What is a favorite novel of yours not published by an American?


8. Why do you think the budget deficit increased during the Reagan years?


9. Who is or was one of your favorite blues performers, and why?


10. In your view, does humanity face an environmental crisis?  If not, please say why.  If so, please provide a few details about that crisis.


11. What is one of your favorite comic feature-films, and why?


12. What is one of your favorite foreign feature-films, and why?

Monday, October 24, 2011

Zen Golf

re-posting one from a while ago

Zen Golf


Bow to the ball. Apologize
in advance for striking it.
Hit it with your favorite
club in any direction.
It's all a Hole out there--
the course, the world,
reality. Therefore, you

can't not hit a hole in one.
Going dualistic for a moment,
the bad news is that no one
keeps score. Even if someone
did count the strokes, there's
nothing to win. Good news
on the dualistic scale: You're

outside, the club in your hand
gleams, a bird craps on a
rich man's head, and....


Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom

Big Guitar Blues

Big Guitar Blues

   Inspired by three works of art (assemblage and acrylic paint) by Becky Frehse:  
Col Legno Battuto, Divisi á Due, and Playing By Heart (2010)


An old guitar enlarges, disrupts my evening, goes
through the roof, and multiplies its frets on up. I fetch
a step-ladder and start climbing between the d
and f strings. In night-air soon wind strums strings
and they buzz me to my bones. It doesn’t take long
to climb past that circular cave-mouth (weird echoes)
and get  too high—nice view of city lights: I feel
as if  I had to mention  that. Knuckles numb,

I start to hum a song I think the strings imply,
as now I hear all six and keep on climbing. Where
does this neck end? Won’t neighbors have reported
this by now? Mist has wetted frets. I slip, barely
hook my elbow on the pipe-sized string, recover.

I’m old, cold, and tired. Now one by one, each string
groans like a different-voiced, mournful beast. Somewhere
in clouds, some picker’s  tuning up. O man, O woman,
I got me some of them gargantuan guitar blues,
and I got my slippers on, not shoes.


Hans Ostrom 2011

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Of Time and the Poets

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Of Time and the Poets

While Since was settling its accounts
with time, Then subsequented right on
down the line. Because pretended to be be
more than it was, as Correlation made
a difference and created some buzz.

Later, when Eventually, Never, Seldom,
and Once raided the place, narrative
lost face, story-tellers interrupted each other,
and poets withdrew to a corner where
Not-That-Much happens any time
it desires; where plots are as tedious
as blueprints, and Immediately shouts,
Can I get an Amen? and Might I Have a Beer?

Copyright 2011 Hans Ostrom