The Grahams in Somerset have come across with two black-eye poems [see yesterday]; serendipitously, Hatch is (1) recovering from eye problems, and (2) wrote a black-eye poem at last Saturday's Sac. Poetry Center Writers Conference (which Peggy Hill will be recapping for us in the next issue of Rattlesnake Review). Hats off, Hatch and Taylor!
BLACK EYES
—Hatch Graham
No wrinkled memories overcome my darkness.
The bubble in my eye gathers light and swirls colors.
Psychedelic pictures swarm like struggling salmon
swimming upstream to spawn,
dark red blood cells feed on a sea of blue.
The gaseous bubble gathers residue from the operation.
Dendritic patterns like rivers from a spy plane
reveal the capillaries.
Platelike formations like the grand canyon
reflect light from caves and caverns.
Ultimately, distorted telephone poles and
landscapes askew emerge.
Only the black patch prevents nausea
or unreasonable stumbling—
The only bright spot remaining are the doctor’s words,
“It will get better.” We’ll see
whether magic signals change from memory.
AFTER RETINAL SURGERY
—Taylor Graham
From inside the black-eye socket
you watch a deep-purple globe
outlined in brilliant white,
eclipse of the sun
by an unnamed planet
whose millions of creatures,
tiny as mites or red-blood cells,
swarm over this darkest
orb, the solar system
of your eye.
_____________________
The carrot this time is a free copy of James DenBoer's new chapbook, Black Dog: An Unfinished Segue Between Two Seasons, which will be debuting tonight at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., 7:30 pm. Send me a poem about black eyes and receive a copy in the mail.
And come on by the reading tonight to pick up your copy of the new Fangs anthology, the latest littlesnake broadsides (Kowbell, Cirillo, Kieth), and even the latest Poetry Flash (B.L. Kennedy gave me a big stack of 'em).
Tomorrow night (Thursday): Poetry Unplugged features Kimberly White at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac., 8 pm. Or go to Poetic Light Open Mic, Personal Style Salon, 2540 Cottage Way, Sac., 8 pm (info: 470-2317). OR— go to an Evening of Poetry at Gwen's Caribbean Cuisine, 2355 Arden Way, Sac., 7 pm (info: 284-7831).
Let's close with another invocation for rain:
THE GIFT
—Edward Abbey
There was a dry season in a dry country:
barren clouds above the mountain peaks,
blue delirium over the cliffs,
a hot wind moaning through the trees
of a dying forest...
We waited, we all waited
for the soft and silver rain
to come and ease our thirst.
We waited, while our hearts
withered in the heat.
The first promise of a new season
came at evening in the form of evening light
(like the light in your eyes, your hair, your smile,
the soft glow on your arms).
The aspens shivered with hope.
The yellow pines stirred their heavy limbs.
The cliffrose opened its flowers
and a strange fierce joy sang through my heart,
in tune with the winds
and the ecstasy of the earth
and the singing of the wild and lonely sky.
______________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets.