Red Fox Underground
Lookit all the Foxes! Top: Kate Wells and Wendy Patrice Williams.
Bottom: Judy Taylor Graham, Moira Magneson, Irene Lipshin and Brigit Truex.
ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE
—Elizabeth I
I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.
My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.
Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content.
Or die and so forget what love ere meant.
_______________________
Women poets today, starting with a fine poem from Lizzie I. Speaking of women poets, El Dorado County Poets from Red Fox Underground will emerge from their dens twice next week: once on Friday, March 16, for a reading at 7 PM by Brigit Truex (and Manzanita Editor Monika Rose) in El Dorado Hills at Our House Gallery, and then again the next night, Saturday, March 17, at 7 PM for "A Courage of Words", when all six of them will read at the Cozmic Cafe in Placerville (594 Main St.), featuring photography by Irene Lipshin. The 3/17 reading is presented by El Dorado Peace and Justice in the Season of Nonviolence; it will begin with a reception from 5:30-7 PM, and will be followed by refreshments. Be sure to drive up and see Irene's beautiful photographs celebrating the concept of world peace.
Medusa made a boo-boo Monday in posting the March 16 Our House reading as happening on March 10. Please make note of the correction. Brigit Truex is an Irish/Native American lass who just published a rattlechap with Rattlesnake Press, entitled A Counterpane Without. Monika Rose edits the beautiful foothills journal, Manzanita, which has been on hiatus for a while but is now back in full force, with readings and other events planned on a regular basis.
As for the Red Foxes, well, strong women and strong poetry. They woodshed their poems on Sundays at 8 AM; oy. Here's to all those groups of poets out there, women or men, who get together and support each other's work.
And here's a poem by Ann Stanford that celebrates writing:
365 POEMS
—Ann Stanford
They will be floating from my mouth like doves
like bright scarves from the sleeves of the magician.
Look, I am spinning five of them over my head.
It has been a bad dream when I
forgot to twirl one like a flag every day,
to walk into town like a parade
with flutes and drums, with timbrels.
They will be chariots drawn by lions.
They will be gazelles and leopards.
They will fly around me like a flock of birds.
They will be my traveling companions.
They will gnaw at me day and night
like minnows, or devour me whole like the whale.
I will stand among them as among trees of a forest,
calling, these are all mine!
They will tell me secrets.
Wherever I go like the roll of drums,
salvos of guns, rockets kindling the air,
they will arrive day and night.
I will beg them to go away.
They will torment me like gnats,
swoop by like hawks at noon, bewilder my dreams at evening.
They will say, welcome home.
_______________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)
Bottom: Judy Taylor Graham, Moira Magneson, Irene Lipshin and Brigit Truex.
ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE
—Elizabeth I
I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.
My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.
Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content.
Or die and so forget what love ere meant.
_______________________
Women poets today, starting with a fine poem from Lizzie I. Speaking of women poets, El Dorado County Poets from Red Fox Underground will emerge from their dens twice next week: once on Friday, March 16, for a reading at 7 PM by Brigit Truex (and Manzanita Editor Monika Rose) in El Dorado Hills at Our House Gallery, and then again the next night, Saturday, March 17, at 7 PM for "A Courage of Words", when all six of them will read at the Cozmic Cafe in Placerville (594 Main St.), featuring photography by Irene Lipshin. The 3/17 reading is presented by El Dorado Peace and Justice in the Season of Nonviolence; it will begin with a reception from 5:30-7 PM, and will be followed by refreshments. Be sure to drive up and see Irene's beautiful photographs celebrating the concept of world peace.
Medusa made a boo-boo Monday in posting the March 16 Our House reading as happening on March 10. Please make note of the correction. Brigit Truex is an Irish/Native American lass who just published a rattlechap with Rattlesnake Press, entitled A Counterpane Without. Monika Rose edits the beautiful foothills journal, Manzanita, which has been on hiatus for a while but is now back in full force, with readings and other events planned on a regular basis.
As for the Red Foxes, well, strong women and strong poetry. They woodshed their poems on Sundays at 8 AM; oy. Here's to all those groups of poets out there, women or men, who get together and support each other's work.
And here's a poem by Ann Stanford that celebrates writing:
365 POEMS
—Ann Stanford
They will be floating from my mouth like doves
like bright scarves from the sleeves of the magician.
Look, I am spinning five of them over my head.
It has been a bad dream when I
forgot to twirl one like a flag every day,
to walk into town like a parade
with flutes and drums, with timbrels.
They will be chariots drawn by lions.
They will be gazelles and leopards.
They will fly around me like a flock of birds.
They will be my traveling companions.
They will gnaw at me day and night
like minnows, or devour me whole like the whale.
I will stand among them as among trees of a forest,
calling, these are all mine!
They will tell me secrets.
Wherever I go like the roll of drums,
salvos of guns, rockets kindling the air,
they will arrive day and night.
I will beg them to go away.
They will torment me like gnats,
swoop by like hawks at noon, bewilder my dreams at evening.
They will say, welcome home.
_______________________
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)
