Monologue To A Married Man
David-Matthew Barnes
I bet you work in a fancy office
With real plants and a gorgeous view of the city
You probably give all the girls a little pat
Every now and then
So no one suspects anything about you
At Christmas, you give them all boxes of candy
Truffles, probably
White chocolate or pink champagne
They can't wait to dance with you at the office parties - shake your hands
Because they adore you, they worship you
Especially the wives
But you refuse politely, don't you
Because you are a married man
And doesn't your wife look lovely tonight
And I bet - when she comes home from her little
Weekend getaway
And she's hugging you and she's kissing you
Because she missed you so much
It won't be her you're touching
It won't be her you're kissing
And it won't be her that you're thinking about
It'll be me
And I will tell you why
and this is so sad
Because you - you are nothing but a coward
And I am nothing to you
But a tool for your imagination.
Without Consent
Jalene Berger
jalene@iinet.com
A heart worn on your sleeve is vulnerable, tender and open.
Long forgotten memories of the harsh conditions there.
Easily caught up in the cobweb of our minds' eye.
Leaving it hanging out in the wind unprotected.
The reality of what 'falling in love' brings.
Swirling around all aspects of life.
Hanging thick, heavy in the air.
Sweet and sticky as molasses.
Falling in love blind,
Without consent,
Can torture
Your mind
Body
And soul.
So, hold fast
To your heart.
Protect it from harm.
Hold closely to your breast.
Where God intended is the best.
Safely tucked within our ribbed chest.
We have only one life to lead in this world.
Only one heart to protect and it's as good as gold.
Keeping it deep inside with warmth and loves caress.
Please be cautious and careful with whom you give it to hold.
Your future is for you to decide which way it will eventually unfold.
A Married Man's Catholic Guilt
Paul Cordeiro
thehaikuman@mediaone.com
I was supposed to be miles away
but I suffered a change of heart.
Who needs driving hundreds of miles
a day, a heart attack, more money
than I won't save for rainy tomorrows.
I run in for pizza and there she sits
lonely as a working class maid
that hasn't been invited to the ball.
I want to repeat some mindless clichˇ
like the glass slipper doesn't have to fit
and you're so right the way you are
as you can't be any less
than the full bodied angel I see.
I wanted to slip my fingers, (what else)
through her long Cinderella hair,
but I didn't damn me.
I wanted to share with her the pizza pie
I ate silently in ten minutes flat alone.
Motive
Lauri McGill Galentine
laurijo73@hotmail.com
March 24, 2001
What I remember most
Is the rage in your eyes
As the words from your lips
Broke my heart.
And I question your motive.
I wasn't the only one
Who sinned that afternoon
You were right there with me.
It was you who said
"Let's go in the backroom."
The thing is,
My heart was in it.
And if God looks at the heart
Then I guess your sin
Goes deeper than mine.
Mr. Death
David-Matthew Barnes
He is a man, a stranger, with dark hair, deer brown eyes and a dangerous smile that lights you up like birthday candles. You meet him when you least expect it, when you are particularly vulnerable and craving some type of reassurance that you are beautiful and worthy. From the first sight of him, you know that he is the only person in this world and in your life that you will ever truly love.
In the beginning, when you are dizzy, weak and unsuspecting, his meticulous plan to ruin your life is something you are oblivious to. But he knows what he is doing. Like a symphony, he has the entire thing orchestrated and you are only an instrument. That is why, when you are in that common senseless state and you are seeing the world through eyes of bliss and love songs, he says the rights things to you, opens every door, shows interest in your life and your passions and spends hours pleasing you beyond waves of ecstasy. It is all part of his plan.
There are so many things to love about him. He remembers your birthday, the words to your favorite song, the date and hour your first met, your mother's maiden name and all the things in the world that you secretly desire. He takes you to hilltops at midnight to look at the city sparkling below. He takes you to places from his past, telling you stories for each one of them. He talks about the children he wants to raise with you, naming them and giving them life before they are born. He talks about the dream house in places like Arroyo Grande, California and summer trips to places like South Carolina and Russia and you mention Paris and his eyes dance in an exotic and wistful melody with yours. He tells you that you are pretty, you are funny, you are smart, you are invincible and most importantly, you are his. He talks about spending the rest of his life with you and no matter what, he would never, never hurt you.
The sound of his velvet voice, especially when he whispers your name, is intoxicating, reeling and leaves you trembling with urgency. When he holds your hand or kisses your cheek, you feel your heart turn away from all that you have ever known or trusted and instead you convince yourself to follow him wherever he wants you to go. You do not question. You do not judge. You do not suspect a thing. When he beckons, the thrill of uncertainty, rushes through you like sugar. In this newfound high, clarity and reason are shoved aside to make room for adventures and rendezvous. He challenges you to do things that you have always believed to be immoral, perverse or frightening. He convinces you to do, say and feel things that you swore you would never do. But you do them all. Just to please him. Because making him happy is the only thing worth living for now.
Slowly, you say "we" where you used to say "I" and you refer to him as "the best boyfriend I have ever had", "the greatest guy in the world", "he's so different from the others " and finally, and foolishly, "the best thing that has ever happened to me". In return, and as part of his plan to consume you, he says words like "forever", "trust me", "I will always be here for you" and "of course I would never cheat on you". You watch his mouth say the words, not noticing the deliberation or his self-serving motivations. You don't catch that slight twitch in his left eyelid, which is his silent confession to the brutality that actually sleeps in his heart. You believe what he says to be the truth because you have been led to believe that no one really lies.
Without any explanation, the words he says to you start to sound harsh and cruel. When you weep, he calls you "a cry baby". When you show excitement, he says you are "melodramatic" or "too emotional" or "neurotic" or "insane". When you exaggerate the truth to spare someone's feelings, he tells you that "you lie to everyone you know". When you try to express to him your concerns, your feelings, your opinion, he brushes it off with a roll of his eyes and an exasperated "Here we go again".
You beg for any type of affection or attention, just to be assured that he stills find you beautiful and desirable and all the things that he told you once that you were. But he pushes you aside or wants you to wait until the commercial break or says the all-too-familiar words "Can't we talk about this later? I'm tired. It's been a long day". When you become desperate, feeling ugly, worthless and not of any importance to him anymore, you take your clothes off and present yourself to him, naked and he says "Not now. I don't want to. It's just not the same anymore. I mean, what's the point if it isn't going to lead to anything more?" You dress again, pulling layers and layers of rejection and humiliation over your unkissed and untouched skin.
In the midst of your realization that he is not what he once appeared to be, you justify his behavior. You defend his actions to your friends. You deny the intervention of those that know you and care and those that are capable of seeing him for the monster that he really is. You question yourself, placing blame on your own faults. "What did I do wrong?", "Maybe if I was prettier", "Maybe I ask too much of him" and "How can I be better?" He offers you no answers, no advice or comfort. Instead, he smirks and laughs to himself, enjoying the matinee of your heartbreaking performance, pleased with himself that he is the sole purpose and cause of your misery and your failed attempts.
In the truth of it all, he does not know what it means to love another person. He only knows and seeks the instant gratification of a fifteen minute skin trade in which he is in control and is the dominating force and the sole receiver of pleasure as he pounds and penetrates and permeates another pitiful soul. You shouldn't be surprised. After all, wasn't he the one who told you that every attractive person he sees, he at once imagines them naked? Wasn't he the one who told you that you were paranoid, distrustful and "worried about nothing"? Wasn't he the one who told you that the two of you were "sexually incompatible" and called you names like "prude" and "old fashioned" and accused you of "always being the victim" or "trying to always appear to be the good one". He cites specific examples, mostly when you were showing your feelings whether they were concern or rage, and he says that the problems in the relationship and the sudden void of love is your fault and never his. The downfall and destruction of the relationship was of your doing, not his. By this time, you are so convinced that you everything is indeed your fault, you lose sight of the looming truth. You are the good one. And you always will be.
In the end, before the death of your innocence, the destruction of your planned future and the criminal invasion of your soul, he moves in for the kill. He disproves every word he has spoken and every promise he has ever made, proving to you once again that true love does not really exist anymore. He belittles you. He disrespects you. He lies to you. He cheats on you with a close friend. And not once do you question the change until it is too late and you no longer know your name.
For comfort, know this, that one-day, he will realize all that you offered. When he is twenty years older, forty pounds heavier and silenced when there is no one there to listen to his self-indulgence and ego stroking, he will miss you and he will hang his head in shame. You, in return, will be dancing in Paris, living in a dream house in Arroyo Grande, counting the accolades from your brilliant career and find yourself surrounded with white carnations, poetry and unspeakable bliss. And you will be blessed with love. For, without or without him, you are love and he is blind and the loss will be eternally his.
Born Old
Jerry Vilhotti
vilhotti@peoplepc.com
When Johnny, with the blond curly hair, could walk, his father would take him on very long journeys all over the neighborhood: by the shoemakers, adjacent to where the baker's son had fallen from the mountain to his death who had given Johnny many rides on the handlebars of his bike, with a fake cat in the window holding the sole of a shoe; across cobblestones the great poet Poe once walked upon with his inner demons clutching his heart and mind while living in matrimony with his sister-cousin when the area was called Fordham Village and by the tire store with a cardboard print of a little boy inside a tire holding a candle against the darkness surrounding him ... but even before Johnny could walk, the father would hug him closely and kiss him tenderly; push him out above his head - bringing forth excited screams of joy from the baby and he would get excited over the excitement the boy showed. The more Tina, the father's daughter, began to look like a grown woman, the more he hugged Johnny and caressed him as if he were an anchor probing deep murky waters.
Seventeen year old Tina felt like spitting on the kid: "Here lousy, take this!" she would whisper harshly to him as she held her nose, pretending he was a horrible odor, giving him the sandwich to take to her father for ever since his hand had fallen from the table like a twitching leaf caught in a fierce breeze only to clutch to Tina's firm ass cheek - which was seen by the mother who called him an animal and visitor of sheep pens - they tried to stay away from one another to prevent glances with suggestive meanings in eyes.
Tom, who was seven years old when Johnny had descended among them in a crash landing from the body of a thirty-nine year old woman becoming the old-born baby, would tease the "little jerk with moxie" by making scary faces at him when no one was looking or pinch his legs from beneath the table and then pretend he had done no such thing when accused by a talking Johnny and the mother would hit Johnny, whom she really hadn't wanted - overwhelmed at the thought of feeding a fifth mouth during the dying of hunger Great Depression brought on by the rich to emphasize their worth for if there weren't hoards of wretched poor how would they know they were well off - for trying to get polio-legged Tommy into trouble with the father who had once bitten the carpet to shreds when Tom had dropped the bowl of pasta to the floor - insisting brace and all clutching his leg that he could negotiate the walk from counter to table since his hands were not inflicted with polio - rather than eat the wide-eyed frightened child. The meal was washed off and eaten after refreshed with more red gravy.
What Tommy would try to do was throw Johnny down the steep flight of stairs but Johnny's holding onto the railing prevented a head long fall through a glass window and into a courtyard five levels below where Black Jack the custodian would greet Johnny every day with a grand hello; failing this, Tom would pose a special challenge to this kid-brother who was slowly stealing away the love of his father and mother that he had sole possession of since his leg had been attacked when he was six months old and Johnny would walk to the top of the stairs like a car with a flat tire - imitating Tom's polio walk - to hear Tom say: "Come on Johnny - jump! I'll catch you! I swear to God! Trust me - Christ I'm your fucking brother!"
Johnny believed and jumped but Tom only half caught him making Johnny bleed from the nose and lip. The very last time Johnny jumped, Tom missed him altogether making Johnny's knees, elbows and forehead bleed. Then after, whenever Tom called from the bottom of the stairs, Johnny would not go. He would instead get fully absorbed in the toy coal truck with a blunt nose his father had given him and play all about the kitchen floor until the noise of the truck's wheels scraped away all of Tom's might angry calls...
Even A Beach Bum Poet Is Too Satisfied For Greatness
Paul Cordeiro
thehaikuman@mediaone.com
He says the old ladies love it best
when he tosses the gulls table scraps
and sometimes God thunderclaps in awe
at such acrobatics that the sea tumbles seaweed
and the old ball we're on rolls along toward
the sun as everyone goes home happier and wiser.
Those that fight madness and live for rougher places
head for the tattoo parlors, strip joints, bars, and the neon lights.
The desperate meet there, then, go down to mingle molecules
on the terraces and the smooth darkened beach,
and to ease the squeeze of the octopus around the heart.
He leaves these unwise to haunt themselves
and doesn't chase the leftover women in bars either
who act like drugged whores in search of a fix.
He says, you need to import friends down here,
and keep to yourself, because the transplanted natives are icier
than dead fish, stiff as preachers, closed down as the statues
of Confederate generals unbowed in their loser's stance.
Even the townies who show flashes of passion when drunk,
and love to watch their football team punish with defense,
wear racing T-shirts, and gaudier ones with the Dixie flags on the back.
They repeat the same tired dance steps to a fault.
They act like Hemingway only fought, fucked, fished, and shot
rhinos and elephants and lions
and never shined his words a thousands times before
he said good night to a gentler world he helped bless and destroy.
My buddy says he only wants the quiet life now
after all the wild pot smoking chicks gave him
enough breathless roller coaster rides to memorize
what a rock star's endless fucks might feel like.
He watches the dolphins frolic and the butterflies
flitter in the dune grass. The moon comes up high
after the cooling sunset to wander
with him among Wordsworth's windblown daffodils
where he does no one any harm but himself
for not pulling enough poems like shark's teeth
from out of his too satisfied and wine warmed guts.
a diamond
aeon logan
most of the world lived in desolation
there was only a few remnants of old fires
that once burned down things that could have been good
Imagine a
world where you'd see a diamond. In
all the darkness and desperation
there would be one loose random
stone that glittered more that anything else on the planet
Could you imagine a world like that
Could you imagine a simple diamond
And I Don't Care
November 15, 1998
I'm tired of them asking me
and that condescending high-pitched voice
how I'm doing
well, I'm fine
I'm the same I've been
and I know that nothing gets better
they tell me it is my attitude
with amazing regularity
they tell me it is my attitude
that makes me think this way
and it doesn't do me any good
and I'm still angry
and I've still lost part of my life
there are a lot of things I don't care about
when the beautiful things have decided
to take a turn for the worse for me
Are things getting better?
Objectively, I can say that I don't know
and I don't care
religion
alexandria rand
"We do expect you to marry someone
who shares in your beliefs,"
the man groaned
as he looked at you and said,
"and that means you too, Joe."
But tell me this:
when you look into my eyes,
do you want to look away?
sometimes the understanding
Sometime the understanding
Travels into the realms of the unknown
All we can do is hope
search
dream
Because we will never find.
Sometimes the light is not enough.
rendering me
alexandria rand
the heat
the fire
burning my skin
red
hot
stripping me
rendering me
defenseless
forward
Gabriel Athens
gathens@aol.com
apparent
web
maze
end
minotaur
center
heart
preys
arms
groping
arms
hide
sky
closer
you
black
black
hope
melt
knives
cutting
slicing
below
down
you
forward
agony
forward
forward
hope
nightmare
desperation
pain
hole in the
heart
night
before
sleep
you
I
light
my
bed
feels
missing
hole
where
is
lay
night
alone
you
feel
am
complete
nothing
matters
you
hand
your
me
sleep
my
bed
hole
through
heart
wish
feel
alone
wish
hole
away
Gabriel Athens
This Man's Watch
David-Matthew Barnes
I wear it
Because I love him
I slipped it off
His wrist, in between
Margaritas, Marlboros
Muddled innuendo
The band - it is silver
Like an accordion
I sit on the sofa at Millie's party
Where everyone is drunk
Listening to Maria McKee
But I am watching the seconds turn
Like the hope dripping
From his melancholic slightly-buzzed face
In a breath, he expresses
That a bedroom is what we need
Because we don't have much time
In the fumbling dark
The numbers glow
Illuminate the truth
I love to watch him tremble
Tick tocking
To the rhythm of his regular heart
Early dawn is reflected
In the round, glass face of the morning after
I know I have to give it back
He gives me so many words and wishes
I return his time
My wrist burns naked
And I think about him
At least until noon
My Golden On-line Friend
Paul Cordeiro
thehaikuman@mediaone.com
In her fifties, she still has Marilyn Monroe's playboy image.
She runs on the treadmill, with round firm breasts
and long legs to make angels weep.
Somehow we connect though I'm not a gay dancer
and good listener who knows he's not as handsome
as one of the Kennedy cousins
who never quite stepped on the White House lawn.
I can only guess she's a retired dancer herself.
I don't teach or publish anything substantial enough
to replace what luxury she dearly enjoys.
Though I give her examples of the pleasure of pain.
She masturbates herself when I say I'm hotter
than a city summer night on top of her now.
She tells me she's miserable, and lonely, and sleeps
in a separate bedroom a wing away from her husband.
He writes scholarly criticisms and historical novels.
He gives her a happy life raising their three kids,
who also respect and admire him.
She doesn't need any constipated married poet
to drive four or five hours to the Connecticut woods
to obviously upset the beauty sleep she has
with a big house, and an investment banker on the side.
She's bored by guys who want to give up
all for a few minutes with her golden hair and smile.
James
Gabriel Athens
gathens@aol.com
I
you
hours
walking
conversation
think
the
one
pushed
arm
pulled
held
close
think
together
didn't
right
sat
park
expect
sat
talked
future
past
republicans
confused
room
think
doing
know
didn't
know
get
something
want
didn't
know
bother
care
knife
gabriel athens
there
dancing
floor
toys
knife
face
the
wounds
apologies
lips
hard
show
know
notice
knife
bought
myself
proud
sure
knife
think
mine
yours
wast
mask
Gabriel Athens
gathens@aol.com
masquerade
complied
dress
costume
face
tears
mask
pay
join
say
high
mask
hope
no
It's Only The Tip
helena wolfe
there are too many things that I want to say,
but after all these years I've forgotten how to speak
I've wanted to tell you how I feel
but I've always been afraid to do that
and I've always been afraid of looking like a fool
I haven't been able to tell you everything
and now I'm afraid
that it's too late for me
and now I'm going to have to live
with of what I know
all alone
I want someone to share that knowledge with me
I want someone to spend their life with me
I know I should have wanted that before
but I'm telling you, at least I'm trying to tell you now
and I'm still afraid to tell all this to you
and this is only the tip of the ice berg
Learn To Do That Too
helena wolfe
Maybe there isn't much of a chance for us
but other people get to have hopes
so maybe I can learn
I know we don't have a lot in common
I know that we disagree
you find a lot of my beliefs infuriating
maybe you still do
you've been able to shut all that off
and like me anyway
maybe that's what people do
maybe I can learn to do that too
If I Will Have Time
marina arturo
Oh brain
take a note
Call Jenny soon about the party next weekend
What else do I have to do
I know I'm forgetting something
I'll have to get groceries soon
One slice of cheese ane a half a jar of pickles
will not last me a week
Paycheck Friday
What should I make
for dinner tomorrow night
This house needs cleaning
Think
Damn
I need a vacation
I wonder
if I'll have time
to sleep tonight
It's You
marina arturo
I loved my soft quilt blanket
When I was only two
But you see, the reason for that was
I never had known you
I had al ittle teddy bear
at the age of four
I loved the bear with all my life
But now I love you more
I loved my rusty bibycle
When I had just turned seven
But now I feel when I'm with you
That I have gone to heaven
I have aged since the younger days
I've had a chance to grow
And now it's no longer things that joy to me brings
It's you that I love so
Spring
marina arturo
Spring
Hundreds of
Daffodils
in a
sunburst
of colors
Waving
Back
and
forth
in the
gentle
breeze
that cools
everything
under the
sun
the sun
shining
brighter
than ever
before
the world
is walking
up
after a
dormant
six month
sleep
it is the
first
morning
of
a
new
season
spring
What Are Those Noises In The Dark
marina arturo
What are those noises in the dark
that we hear in the night time
just before sleep
Are they ghosts under the bed
Are they bogeymen in the closet
Or is it the sandman opening your door
or is it the tooth fairy lifting your pillow
Maybe it's just
a restless dog
howling in the night
Yet you seem to hear unknown footfalls
tapping at the ground with eerie creaks
Yet you seem to hear a rustling of curtains
even though there is no breeze
Maybe those noises are only your imagination
Maybe
Unauthorized
David-Matthew Barnes
You told me not to write this
Warned me that if I did
You would write a tell-all
Unauthorized biography
And call it:
My Life, MyGod, My Hell
A tribute to me and all that I cared to share
Written from yourpoint-of-view
I am certain that a lot of things will be left out
To prepare for your literary and promised revenge,
I will not tell them your name in my story
If you remember to include all of this in yours:
Tell them about how we met and how you promised
Romance and courtship and a life of eternal bliss.Tell them about MulhollandPark and the seventh of August
And the canyon drives and the poolside, moonlit baring of our souls .
Tell them about how I was nearly consumed by Hollywood
And how you saved me from myself
Tell them about how much you inspired me
And the weekend that we ran away and plotted a new life.
And tell them about how you would rather watch television
Than watch my heart unfold for you or make love
Tell them about how many times you made me cry
With your daily doses of they-did-me-wrongex-boyfriends
Tell them about the night that I tried to please you and your
Immoral fantasy and I shared you with another and it nearly killed me.
Tell them about all the times that you tried to push me away
And I was relentless in loving you, stealing away from myself.
Above all, tell them the truth.
They will never believe you.
I Want More Than That
shannon peppers
I am tired of the one night stands
I want something more
you gave me that
and now I want more than that
When what you give me means nothing
I wanted more than bland sex
can you give me that
was I barking up the wrong tree
Because who can do that for me
I was hoping that you could be that someone
Is it just me
shannon peppers
I remember how you used to pay attention to me
and how you'd do nice things and wouldn't forget to call me
or how you wouldn't forget what was important to me
Is it just me
or do you do this to others too
do other people get used to it, just assume you'll forget them
Is it just me
or are you on time with other people
or are you ignoring me
Is it just me
is there anything you can do to help yourself
because I think I lost hope for you a while ago
I haven't lost hope, but I'm getting close
@$%&* Being Alone
shannon peppers
I know I'm picky and need attention and love and support
all this time I thought I could get that from you
I've been let down before, I've dealt with liars full time
I've had to adjust my truths, my perceptions
I've adjusted my schedule for you
but I still had a schedule there
and I thought that you would come around
and eventually somehow adhere to it
I'm tired of being let down
all the bad things happening to me
I've had to keep to myself all this time
I thought that you wouldn't do that to me too
I don't know what I'm trying for
if you're not there
are you not even listening
I've had to learn to be alone
I was hoping for good news
for someone to understand
something I can understand
to make me happy
I thought it was you
many times I'm going getting kicked in the teeth
there is no light at the end of the tunnel for me
waiting isn't enough
I can not sit around and wait for you any more
move on, girl
I don't know what I'm moving to
but I have to be moving to something
Maybe You Can
shannon peppers
I
and there was so much that I wanted to live
and there was more that I wanted to live with you
I've been angry, hurt, confused
I've even been smart, smarter than people like to admit
I've wanted someone to take charge of life
even though I am strong, even though my head is on my shoulders
we women could use that help every once in a wile
I feel like I've lived a hard enough life, in some
respects, and I think it's my turn to enjoy life
for once, why can't that happen for me?
II
I've gotten good over the years at being a good
liar when I have to be. And no one has to know
when I'm telling the truth.
III
It's good to know you were worried about me
at least I had that effect on you, at least
I still have power
but I know you're still with her and I know you've
been with other women and I know that you
probably haven't thought about me
much
I'm sure you weren't planning to save money and
get a job and well, support me for the rest of
our lives
I didn't expect that of you and you know,
I didn't expect that of anyone, for that matter
no, I haven't expected any answers, even,
I haven't expected that for years.
But now I want a change
I want someone to know that
I want someone to do something about it
and I don't think that will come from you
You Know What I'm Talking About
sydney anderson
i know it has been years since we have talked
and I know you probably hate me
and maybe you want something different in life
and maybe I would be a nice diversion for you
and maybe I could tell you
that I have gone through a lot too
and maybe we could find consolation in each other
provide relief
maybe you would talk to me
and say things that you could not tell anyone
well, at least not in open places
well, maybe you know what i am talking about
I have been looking for things
and maybe, just maybe you are looking for things too
maybe something out of life
maybe some comic relief, some attention
maybe I could be that for you
maybe you could be that for me
the hunter and the fox
sydney snderson
I've been a hunter, you know
I've been working at it for a while
I've gotten pretty good at it
I've been looking for the right prey
all this time
someone I could dominate
isn't that my role, you konw
Ive been looking for an animal
for a fox
someone that would be a good show-piece
I've been looking all this time
and I'm still looking
so where is he
what is veganism?
A vegan (VEE-gun) is someone who does not consume any animal products. While vegetarians avoid flesh foods, vegans don't consume dairy or egg products, as well as animal products in clothing and other sources.
why veganism?
This cruelty-free lifestyle provides many benefits, to animals, the environment and to ourselves. The meat and dairy industry abuses billions of animals. Animal agriculture takes an enormous toll on the land. Consumtion of animal products has been linked to heart disease, colon and breast cancer, osteoporosis, diabetes and a host of other conditions.
so what is vegan action?
We can succeed in shifting agriculture away from factory farming, saving millions, or even billions of chickens, cows, pigs, sheep turkeys and other animals from cruelty.
We can free up land to restore to wilderness, pollute less water and air, reduce topsoil reosion, and prevent desertification.
We can improve the health and happiness of millions by preventing numerous occurrences od breast and prostate cancer, osteoporosis, and heart attacks, among other major health problems.
A vegan, cruelty-free lifestyle may be the most important step a person can take towards creatin a more just and compassionate society. Contact us for membership information, t-shirt sales or donations.
vegan action
po box 4353, berkeley, ca 94707-0353
510/704-4444
MIT Vegetarian Support Group (VSG)
functions:
* To show the MIT Food Service that there is a large community of vegetarians at MIT (and other health-conscious people) whom they are alienating with current menus, and to give positive suggestions for change.
* To exchange recipes and names of Boston area veg restaurants
* To provide a resource to people seeking communal vegetarian cooking
* To provide an option for vegetarian freshmen
We also have a discussion group for all issues related to vegetarianism, which currently has about 150 members, many of whom are outside the Boston area. The group is focusing more toward outreach and evolving from what it has been in years past. We welcome new members, as well as the opportunity to inform people about the benefits of vegetarianism, to our health, the environment, animal welfare, and a variety of other issues.
The Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology
The Solar Energy Research & Education Foundation (SEREF), a non-profit organization based in Washington, D.C., established on Earth Day 1993 the Center for Renewable Energy and Sustainable Technology (CREST) as its central project. CREST's three principal projects are to provide:
* on-site training and education workshops on the sustainable development interconnections of energy, economics and environment;
* on-line distance learning/training resources on CREST's SOLSTICE computer, available from 144 countries through email and the Internet;
* on-disc training and educational resources through the use of interactive multimedia applications on CD-ROM computer discs - showcasing current achievements and future opportunities in sustainable energy development.
The CREST staff also does "on the road" presentations, demonstrations, and workshops showcasing its activities and available resources.
For More Information Please Contact: Deborah Anderson
dja@crest.org or (202) 289-0061