SOME TREES
—John Ashbery
These are amazing: each
Joining a neighbour, as though speech
Were a still performance.
Arranging by chance
To meet as far this morning
From the world as agreeing
With it, you and I
Are suddenly what the trees try
To tell us we are:
That their merely being there
Means something; that soon
We may touch, love, explain.
And glad not to have invented
Such comeliness, we are surrounded:
A silence already filled with noises,
A canvas on which emerges
A chorus of smiles, a winter morning.
Placed in a puzzling light, and moving,
Our days put on such reticence
These accents seem their own defense.
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A VASE OF FLOWERS
—John Ashbery
The vase is white and would be a cylinder
If a cylinder were wider at the top than at the bottom.
The flowers are red, white and blue.
All contact with the flowers is forbidden.
The white flowers strain upward
Into a pallid air of their references,
Pushed slightly by the red and blue flowers.
If you were going to be jealous of the flowers,
Please forget it.
They mean absolutely nothing to me.
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THE YOUNG PRINCE AND THE YOUNG PRINCESS
—John Ashbery
The grass cuts our feet as we wend our way
Across the meadow—you, a child of thirteen
In a man's business suit far too big for you
A symbol of how long we have been together.
I pick the berries for us to eat
Into a tin can and set it on a stump
Soon or late, lateness comes.
Crows come up out of the west.
I want you to examine this solid block of darkness
In which we are imprisoned. But you say, No,
You are tired. You turn over and sleep.
And I sleep, but in my sleep I hear horses carrying you away.
When the breeze is finished it is morning
Again. Wake up. It is time to start walking
Into the heavenly wilderness. This morning, strangers
Come down to the road to feed us. They are afraid to have
us come so far.
Night comes, but this time it is a different one.
Your feet scarcely seem to touch the grass
As you walk; you have confidence in me;
Moths bump my incandescent head
And I hear the wind. And so it goes. Some day
We will wake up, having fallen in the night
From a high cliff into the white, precious sky.
You will say, 'That is how we lived, you and I.'
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THE BIKE ASCENDING
—Tom Goff, Carmichael
Is it wrong that,
during this crisis in the nation’s finances,
as I drive home from work, I can eschew
the horrible news from Wall Street, Iraq
and bathe in the sweet sounds of Ralph
Vaughan Williams’ “The Lark Ascending?”
Is it altogether fitting and proper that,
having felt Anne Akiko Meyers’ wiry yet mellow
violin gently lower my clothed and motoring body
into an envelope, oils of banana and lavender
glistening on my skin, I should recoil
in dislike for the motorcyclist grinding
alongside, sooty carbon snooting out of his
exhaust trumpet? Is the aim here not to savor
how, in pentatonic waftings to the next
point-of-lilt, the lark will rise, wingbeat, wingbeat,
then sing some more, wingbeat, wingbeat
then sing some more, (resting on parcels,
fragments of air, idyllic meadows among hills of wind),
all the way to dawn, to a sun sheer and faraway,
packed, petal, thorn and stem, with roses?
Then why do I feel a sterner uplift
in the gasoline fragrance, magnolia compounded
of weary mind and fume? Is it how the biker
retunes his pipes and zizzes off, the lark’s arisings
and restings replicated, but quicker,
in the gears and carburetor? What comes
of his yearnings for further on, further on, acoustic
guitar through the grit of an an amplifier?
What does it mean that, flexing his feet at the pedals,
he ribbons the road, meting out gigantic arcs
before and after him? Is it my imagination
or his, transfiguring the asphalt to Matterhorns,
Lombards and Lombards in a Wayne Thiebaud
San Francisco? Should we play him our loudest
goodbyes as he gyres through Ultima Thules
and terraces inhospitable to larks,
Anne Akiko Meyers?
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Thanks to Tom Goff for his response to our Seed of the Week: Poems in the form of questions.
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Today's LittleNip:
During a lull in the autumn rains,
I walk with the children along the mountain path.
The bottom of my robe becomes soaked with dew.
—Ryokan, translated by John Stevens
—Medusa
SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:
October is Sacramento Poetry Month! October’s releases from Rattlesnake Press include a new rattlechap from Moira Magneson (He Drank Because) and a free littlesnake broadside from Hatch Graham (Circling of the Pack). Both are available at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or from me (kathykieth@hotmail.com), or—soon—from rattlesnakepress.com/. Rattlechaps are $6 by mail, $5 at The Book Collector.
Be sure to join us on Thursday, Oct. 30, 8 PM, when Rattlesnake Press will release not one, but 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??
And check out B.L. Kennedy’s interview with Art Luna in the latest Rattlesnake Review (#19)! Free copies are available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I’ll mail you one (address below). Next deadline, by the way, is November 15.
Coming in November: November will feature a new rattlechap from Red Fox Underground Poet Wendy Patrice Williams (Some New Forgetting); a littlesnake broadside from South Lake Tahoe Poet Ray Hadley; our 2009 calendar from Katy Brown (Beyond the Hill: A Poet’s Calendar) as well as Conversations, Vol. 4 of B.L. Kennedy’s Rattlesnake Interview Series. That’s Weds., November 12, 7:30 PM at The Book Collector.
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 SOWs; 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.......!
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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.
