Blue Clouds & White Rain

Rich Russell

SCREAMING
—Rich Russell, Carmichael

I am trying to
read and write
and drink my beer
and not think about
everything
and the dirt children
next door pass
the time by
screaming
screaming
and more screaming
while their mother
screams at them to
stop the screaming
then she goes back to
her life
and her hell
and her beer
and so do I.

___________________

Thanks, Rich, for today's poems! Rich Russell says: I was born in Roseville in 1967. I have lived in Sacramento most of my life. I have been married and divorced twice. I suffer from kidney failure and go to dialysis 3 days a week. I started writing poetry at 22. I am a big fan of [rattlechapper] Phil Weidman. I enjoy reading histories and biographies, eating in diners and trips to the Northern California and Southern Oregon coasts.

___________________

Seed of the Week: Argument poems (debate poems? dueling poems?):

Today's Seed of the Week comes from another Carmichaelite, our Historian-in-Residence, Tom Goff. He writes: Helen Vendler describes somewhere how a poem can present an miniaturized argument, more or less be an essay with all the rhetorical parts compressed, that the proposed poem be a sort of argument.

Then I thought of Arthur Hugh Clough's famous pairing of poems, "Christ is dead; He is not risen," versus "Christ is not dead; he is risen," plus all those poems writ back and forth between the Passionate Shepherd and His Love, etc.

So the task is to write a couple of poems, one of which takes a side in an argument, the other to oppose that side. Here are mine, the first being that almost-villanelle you kindly ran before, expanded here to all six cylinders.


WHAT SCENT
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

The mind dies with the body down below
the god-cloud spindrift. What do we intend?
We practice all our lives to rise, to know,

then hunker in bogs and tundraholds of bone,
so fiercely do we feel we must not end.
The mind dies with the body down below,

just one more organ come apart. What sows
this ardent muck with urges to transcend?
We practiced all our lives to rise, to know,

to ride great updrafts to an afterglow,
our swirls our selves, but beaten into blend.
The mind dies with the body. Down below,

beneath the binding crust, both undergo
grueling dissolve. Who speaks of brain pretends
(we practiced, all our lives, to rise!) to know

what gods extract from nerveweave—call it soul.
Torn from the raw flower, what blossom scent it sends.
The mind dies with the body down below.
We practiced all our lives to rise, to know.

___________________

And here's Tom's reply to his own poem:

NOT WITH THE BODY DOWN
—Tom Goff

The mind does not lie with the body down
in death, or liquefy in the last reversal.
From what the mind is spun, the soul is wound,

these interwoven as flesh and bone are bound,
conjoined without a break, both integral.
The mind does not lie with the body down,

and isn’t to be shrugged out of like a gown,
crumpled atop the closet floor’s dispersal.
From what the mind is spun, the soul is wound,

our thoughts the silent spinners in a town
made up of outskirts, swirling with mute rehearsals.
The mind does not lie with the body down;

no, high, high up at last it can be found,
still gathering particles into universals.
From what the mind is spun, the soul is wound:

mind owns no winding sheet in which to drown
or disintegrate. Forever is its arousal.
The mind does not lie with the body down;
soul of the soul, it cannot be unwound.

___________________

Thanks, Tom, for the idea/challenge. Send your dueling poems to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No giveaway this week, and no deadline either. Just send 'em when you send 'em.

__________________

ALLEY BY THE TRACKS IN MEDFORD
—Rich Russell

I sit in my car
sipping a tepid Bud
in the tepid air
on a drizzly tepid April afternoon
And between my belches
the traffic
and other noises of madness
I hear a train
clicking across the tracks
And I think how I’d like
to hop it
hoping it was going
all the way

__________________

RAY MANZAREK
—Rich Russell

My singer died
My career got fried
And I got the blues, man.

__________________

EMPEROR OF THE DEATH HOUSE
—Rich Russell

Morning, morning
like a night of whoring
I feel dirty and sick
but without the strength
to leave
and I think of her
that she spoke no words
And those empty promises
made me emperor
of the death house

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

AFTER YESTERDAY
—A.R. Ammons

After yesterday
afternoon's blue
clouds and white rain
the mockingbird
in the backyard
untied the drops from
leaves and twigs
with a long singing.

__________________


—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:

Now available at The Book Collector in Sacramento and also from rattlesnakepress.com/: Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a free littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (also free!). If you can't get to The Book Collector for your free copy, send me two bux and I'll mail you one. Next deadline for submissions, by the way, is November 15.

Coming in October: October’s release at The Book Collector on Weds., Oct. 8, will feature a new rattlechap from Moira Magneson (He Drank Because) and a littlesnake broadside from Hatch Graham (Circling of the Pack). That's at the Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else’s.

Then, on Thursday, Oct. 30, 8 PM, Rattlesnake Press will release two SpiralChaps to honor and celebrate Luna’s Café, including a new collection of art and poetry from B.L. Kennedy (Luna’s House of Words) and an anthology of Luna’s poets, artists and photographs (La Luna: Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Café) edited by Frank Andrick. Come travel with our Away Team as we leave the Home of the Snake for a brief road trip/time travel to Luna’s Café, 1414 16th St., Sacramento to celebrate Art Luna and the 13 years of Luna's long-running poetry series. Who knows what auspicious adventures await us there??


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 and in-between! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________

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.