—Tomas Transtromer
We are at a party that doesn't love us. Finally the party lets the mask fall and shows what it is: a shunting station for freight cars. In the fog cold giants stand on their tracks. A scribble of chalk on the car doors.
One can't say it aloud, but there is a lot of repressed violence here. That is why the furnishings seem so heavy. And why it is so difficult to see the other thing present: a spot of sun that moves over the house walls and slips over the unaware forest of flickering faces, a biblical saying never set down: "Come unto me, for I am as full of contradictions as you."
I work the next morning in a different town. I drive there in a hum through the dawning hour which resembles a dark blue cylinder. Orion hangs over the frost. Children stand in a silent clump, waiting for the school bus, the children no one prays for. The light grows as gradually as our hair.
(translated from the Swedish by Robert Bly)
_____________________
Nothing like a little Transtromer to brace you for the day.
Progress continues on Snake 9; Todd Cirillo says that, at 60 pages and counting, it resembles an anaconda more than a rattlesnake! There just seems to be so much happening—like Staajabu leaving for New Jersey on April 24! Straight Out Scribes, the duo of her and her daughter, has been a huge presence in Sacramento poetry, and now she's leaving and I didn't interview them while she was here...
But oh well. Maybe there's still time. It looks like their last local performance (and the release of their broadsides) will be at the Second Annual Snake Birthday Party on April 12 (The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac., 7:30 pm)—but more about that later. Meanwhile, be sure to add their March 18 Palo Alto performance to yesterday's listings: Saturday, 7-9 pm, Barbara Hiken presents The Straight Out Scribes Experience: poetry, spoken word and conscious rap, featuring V.S. Chochezi and Staajabu, 910 Moreno Avenue, Palo Alto. Donations will be gratefully accepted to support the legal case of Mumia Abu-Jamal. Info: 916-452-1290.
I know, I know—it's hard as hell to let go of books. But should you find the courage, Friends of the Sacramento Public Library is accepting book donations from 9 a.m. to noon Wednesdays and Saturdays at Book Den Warehouse, 8250 Belvedere Av., Suite E, Sac. Info: 916-731-8493.
Snake pal, spiralchapper (Been Born Bronx), soon-to-be rattlechapper (The Setich Manor Poems) and Reviewer-in-Residence B.L. Kennedy is an active volunteer for Friends of the Library. Snake 9 will include another edition of his "The BL 418 Buzz", featuring Bari's take on books, movies, and whatever else tickles his muse.
I happen to think reviews are particularly important in the small press biz; publicity for small books is so hard to come by. Bari is Honcho Reviewer for the Snake, but he is assisted in this gargantuan task by other able folks such as Charlene Ungstad (who wields a heckuva pen!) and Shawn Pittard. Articles by Rattlechapper Shawn (These Rivers) can be seen in the Snake and Poetry Now, but he also writes regularly for an online journal called The Great American Pin-up (www.greatamericanpinup.blogspot.com). This site has 18 "hits" (articles and poems) for Shawn, and lots of other cool stuff as well. Check it out!
______________________
SKETCH IN OCTOBER
—Tomas Transtromer
The towboat is freckled with rust. What's it doing here so far inland?
It is a heavy extinguished lamp in the cold.
But the trees have wild colors: signals to the other shore.
As if people wanted to be fetched.
On my way home I see mushrooms sprouting
up through the lawn.
They are the fingers, stretching for help, of someone
who has long sobbed to himself in the darkness down there.
We are the earth's.
(translated from the Swedish by Robert Fulton)
_______________________
AFTER A DEATH
—Tomas Transtromer
Once there was shock
that left behind a long, shimmering comet tail.
It keeps us inside. It makes the TV pictures snowy.
It settles in cold drops on the telephone wires.
One can still go slowly on skis in the winter sun
through brush where a few leaves hang on.
They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories.
Names swallowed by the cold.
It is still beautiful to feel the heart beat
but often the shadow seems more real than the body.
The samurai looks insignificant
beside his armor of black dragon scales.
(translated from the Swedish by Robert Bly)
_______________________
who has long sobbed to himself in the darkness down there.
We are the earth's.
(translated from the Swedish by Robert Fulton)
_______________________
AFTER A DEATH
—Tomas Transtromer
Once there was shock
that left behind a long, shimmering comet tail.
It keeps us inside. It makes the TV pictures snowy.
It settles in cold drops on the telephone wires.
One can still go slowly on skis in the winter sun
through brush where a few leaves hang on.
They resemble pages torn from old telephone directories.
Names swallowed by the cold.
It is still beautiful to feel the heart beat
but often the shadow seems more real than the body.
The samurai looks insignificant
beside his armor of black dragon scales.
(translated from the Swedish by Robert Bly)
_______________________
—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. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)
