YOU CARRY THE WEIGHT OF HEAVY BUTTOCKS
—Yehuda Amachai
You carry the weight of heavy buttocks,
but your eyes are clear.
Around your waist a wide belt that won't protect you.
You're made of the kind of materials that slow down
the process of joy
and its pain.
I've already taught my penis
to say your name
like a trained parakeet.
And you're not even impressed. As if
you didn't hear.
What else should I have done for you?
All I have left now is your name,
completely independent,
like an animal:
it eats out of my hand
and lies down at night
curled up in my dark brain.
(translated by Chana Bloch)
__________________
Janet Jackson has been cleared of her "wardrobe malfuntion", so for today's Seed of the Week, let's write about sex! Not about love—all that mushy stuff—but about sex itself: silly, awkward, beautiful, profound, secretive, joyous, clumsy, illicit—use your discretion about what will/won't get us arrested and tell us about SEX! There's certainly no dirth of material that has come before you, as today's poets will show... Send me a poem (kathykieth@hotmail.com, no deadline) and, for your troubles, I'll send you a free copy of my Sex—For Animals. Just because...
TIME FOR RICH SILENCE
—May Sarton
Time for rich silence,
The passionate season,
For the present tense
Beyond speech, outside reason.
Time now to explore
These intricate cages,
Two bodies aware,
Two equipages.
Find the way to unlock
A mysterious door
At the threshold of shock
With the impact of war.
Then gentle fierce joys
On the wave's rising curve
Till it reaches it poise,
Tumbles, touches the nerve.
And all tumult is done—
Two equipages
In silent communion
Released from their cages.
__________________
A VIRGINAL
—Ezra Pound
No, no! Go from me. I have left her lately.
I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness,
For my surrounding air hath a new lightness;
Slight are her arms, yet they have bound me straitly
And left me cloaked as with a gauze of aether;
As with sweet leaves; as with subtle clearness.
Oh, I have picked up magic in her nearness
To sheathe me half in half the things that sheathe her.
No, no! Go from me. I have still the flavour,
Soft as spring wind that's come from birchen bowers.
Green come the shoots, aye April in the branches,
As winter's wound with her sleight hand she staunches,
Hath of the trees a likeness of the savour:
As white their bark, so white this lady's hours.
__________________
TO MY LOVE, COMBING HER HAIR
—Yehuda Amachai
To my love, combing her hair
without a mirror, facing me,
a psalm: you've shampooed your hair, an entire
forest of pine trees is filled with yearning on your head.
Calmness inside and calmness outside
have hammered your face between them to a tranquil copper.
The pillow on your bed is your spare brain,
tucked under your neck for remembering and dreaming.
The earth is trembling beneath us, love.
Let's lie fastened together, a double safety-lock.
(translated by Stephen Mitchell)
__________________
LOSING MY VIRGINITY
—Kathy Kieth, Pollock Pines
It wasn’t like a grainy old movie: bad sound
and worse music, him six inches taller, bending
me over backwards on the dance floor; it wasn’t
like the magazines: latest lipstick shade on top
of proper vamping, cruise ship to Bermuda;
it wasn’t like my girlfriends said: long sips of
hootch, fumbles in the backseat, waiting for
the phone to ring the next morning; it wasn’t
like my aunt said: a few quick kisses, then a life-
time behind a stove, canning August peaches
in between castrating barn cats; it wasn’t like
my mother said: a man is a dark shadow—don’t
let him get between you and the sun; and it
wasn’t like I expected: fuzzy blankets and sass-
afras tea, every morning Christmas Day. It
wasn’t like any of that. . .
(originally appeared in Urban Spaghetti)
___________________
Today's LittleNip:
GOOD MORNING, BROWNING
—Samuel Hoffenstein
God's in his heaven
Painting things blue;
I'm on the thorn,
The snail is too.
__________________
—Medusa
SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press
The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...
Medusa's Weekly Menu:
(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)
Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar
Tuesday: Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.
Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.
Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy. Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.
Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar
Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.
And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!
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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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.
