Giving Tuesday

In the physical, wake of Black Friday, rising from the ashes of Cyber Monday, comes Giving Tuesday – today, a day dedicated to giving instead of getting. we hope you’ll consider making a tax-deductable (in the United States) donation to Project Agent Orange:

Click on the link below and let them know it’s for Project Agent Orange.

http://www.vn-agentorange.org/index.html

Here’s the homepage to our website:

http://projectagentorange.com/

Thanks.

Project Agent Orange

Not Circumspect Enough

A Poem by Richard D. Hartwell

I used to fancy that one day I’d
wipe my bloody ass and note
what’s left of my crimson
salted-sea come flushing out,
allowing my broken body to
expire and those delayed
expectations of the D.V.A.
to be met: another case closed.

While waiting for that
near-term date I learn of
Vietnam welcoming Monsanto
into the country’s agriculture;
genetically modified crops imported
from the megalomaniacal corporation.

I cannot reconcile this tormented
surrender of righteousness to deceit;
I don’t anymore know which bleeds more:
my Agent Orange butt or my broken heart.

because of Re: Project Agent Orange Discussion Board

AGENT ORANGE MAN (Better Living Through Chemistry)

The song “AGENT ORANGE MAN (Better Living Through Chemistry)” is Recorded by Michael Gram (Former LHI Records Recording Artist). It tells the story of the Chemical Poisoning of Military Veterans and the environment both in Vietnam and here in the United States of America.
The producer and song writer Michael Glasser is a 100% disabled veteran who never served in Vietnam but was exposed to Agent Orange amongst several other carcinogenic chemicals at Chanute AFB in Rantoul, Illinois back in 1962 -1964.

ONE HAND CONTINUES ITS CLAPPING …..

A Poem by Stefanie Bennett

(Remembering Monsanto & Dow Chemicals)

Feel in colour. The destruction of sound
Is mild green, terminable.

Easy on the eyes; paint ash or lilac
As if they could not see.

Tri-colour the body from the head’s pivot
To the realm of the Candytuft’s sad soul

And tread by the throats of flowers,
The scents or morning, the air’s

Dominion. Feel. Feel in colour! Where
The black hatband has

Nowhere to rest, and the white glove
Claps farewell…

Agent Orange ‘And Beyond Monsanto and Dow Chemicals': AFTER THE FALL

A Poem by Stefanie Bennett

– in memory of Mike

And I will love you because
The world never did.
And I will cloak you in syllables
To keep inquiring eyes at bay.
And I will cover our footprints
So daringly
That no-one will ask
Ever again –
For a sequel to love and loveliness.

And you will love me because
The world never did.
Because the gentleness of fortitude
Is a hard act to follow.
And we will scrape up
Our worldly ruins
To begin building this
Hectare of the heart
Cupped between the planet’s breast.

Know that the quiet doctrines will be
As fragile
As your face.
And the direction –
Clear as a single bird-call
Across the idioms
Of free space…

In a land where no wall stands
We will meet
And set our lives
To the the order
Of metaphysical things.
We will love
Because
The world never did – and
Give back what
Was never taken

… When the time comes.

HEARTLAND-HOMECOMING

A Poem by Stefanie Bennett

–after Monsanto & Dow Chemicals

Pick them up, the raw percentages
I’ve no longer any wish to carry.
These days I wrestle with the absolute.

Much is left over. The titan
Impersonating Zeus’ loss.
The white witch who sells

Found fortunes at the half hour.
The sack-clothed singer
With the cracked voice and sad accordion.

New league missionaries. Bionic bards.
Assurance satirists. I’d bagged
The lot in some begotten springtime.

It was the evening my brother
Returned from the war.
Quarter mooned – unlike himself

But with the sameness of quaint indolence.
Quieter than
Our mother’s grave. Speech therapy

Would put a fix to that. It never did.
Years viced his silence
… Lent me mine. I learned

Communication’s a game fit to kill,
Squander, maim – or
Tell untruths when amnesia wills.

Our sanatorium Sunday walks avoid
What it is that’s left over.
In the distance I see them

Impersonating posthumously those they’ll
Not become. Raw percentages
Crying still to be
Lifted up!