QUIET AUTUMN
—d.a. levy
the sky changes its clothes
from pale blues to azure dragon
sometimes halloween oranges
and today its sabbath best
mother of pearl sky.
the sun red above grey-purple water
bronze sands littered with copper leaves
and driftwood sienna—dark brown
autumn crisp sweet smell
of burning leaves.
few green leaves hang onto life
clinging to their tree homes.
it's a sad autumn—silent season
a few snow white clouds hover
overhead to predict winter
in winter it's miles of
dangerous ice that covers the lake from cold
who will protect me
in winter lovers sweat under blankets
in warm passionate embraces
who will keep me warm
in winter all paths
lie buried in white snow
where will i walk
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levy birthday bash tonight!
Tonight at 8 PM (doors open at 7:30), join us for the Annual d.a. levy Birthday Bash at Luna’s Café, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, featuring the reading of d.a. levy poems by D.R. Wagner, frank andrick, Gene Bloom, Patrick Grizzell, Robert Grossklaus, Kathy Kieth, Noel Kroeplin, Robert Lozano, Miles Miniaci, Crawdad Nelson, Charlene Ungstad, Terryl Wheat and Todd Cirillo. Music by the Downtrodden Saints. Hosted by B.L. Kennedy. $5.00 at the door. 916-441-3931.
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ROOMS OF HER LIFE
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
In the room of trips and holidays, an album
full of ticket stubs. Diaries of everywhere she went
and what it cost, tips from travelogues on what to see.
Another room for music—childhood tunes
and must-have records, echoes of water flowing
in oxbow eddies, Beethoven’s Pastoral, or
rushing down rapids, Rachmaninoff
familiar as if memorized. The library
with family Bibles, first grade primers, college texts
forgotten, once-read novels along with dog-
eared verse recited word for word....
After the fire, flood, the windstorm,
she had the shards and timbers hauled away.
Now she stands
in empty twilight staring at vast spaces
of her life. Not empty, nor quite
silent. So much room
waiting to be filled.
__________________
MUSEUM
—Taylor Graham
The Rotunda of Failures, arranged around a blind bust—
hollow eyes of a dreamer with his bottom line gone.
Staircase of Ancestral Portraits, grandfathers with their
faith and unspeakable ambitions, all of them dead.
The Hall of Pets—reverse silhouettes on the wall, ghost-
shapes of two horses, ten dogs, a nanny goat, three cats.
The Portico of Lost Landscapes in a haze of years: green
valley before condos, the San Gabriels without smog.
Of course one keeps the doors locked. But at night
in dreams they escape, wandering every room.
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Thanks to Taylor Graham for two poems in response to our Seed of the Week: The Museum of Our Lives (see yesterday's post for more information). Some other poems from other local wonder-poets:
POX
—Pearl Stein Selinsky, Sacramento
Shall I—
Must I—
accept
my fate
without
complaint—
knuckle
under
to whatever
those three
harridans
decide?
Snatch from
the middle ages
the very worst &
send to them:
a pox upon thee
but
their childhood
vaccination is
a guarantee:
no pox,
no curse,
no way
to set me free.
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I HEAR YOUR STORY
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys
When you whisper your story
I hear the shame
That speaks volumes
Despite your whispers
Know that the shame is not yours
You were the victim
Of someone else’s wrongdoing
They have long forgotten
But you remember
Remember
The pain, the shame
Let it go
The shame is not yours
—Mitz Sackman, Murphys
When you whisper your story
I hear the shame
That speaks volumes
Despite your whispers
Know that the shame is not yours
You were the victim
Of someone else’s wrongdoing
They have long forgotten
But you remember
Remember
The pain, the shame
Let it go
The shame is not yours
________________
Today's LittleNip:“EXIT, PURSUED…”
—Tom Goff, Carmichael
Thanks be to Nora, partner in life
and guide through wildernesses real
and metaphoric.
How euphoric
am I, when, spurred by a wife
to probe for trails idyllic, even ideal,
we find ourselves in that losing-finding process
of stepping a gentle incline
along an alpine
ridge giving onto each access
of ravine and purple distance.
Up near Graeagle, high in the Sierras,
we aim to make
Smith Lake
and make the lake we do, without serious errors:
the lake small, a virtual pond,
but of water-diamond, the sheer surface
aspen-quivering silver mirror all its reed-pierced
length. Best of all, forty yards ahead
as we approach the shimmering quiet,
we see a small black bear we’ve startled;
he scampers away on all fours, from some surfeit
of feasting, pure creek water to drink,
and manzanita berries at every brink
or trailside cranny, like tiny burnt peanuts;
tasty and winter-vital to the bear.
And as we stare
at the hole in the forest atmosphere
Ursa has left, I remember Shakespeare’s
Bohemian play, with the direction Exit, pursued by a bear.
Long may Nora and I follow this pursuit
eternal, so that we have for our final cue,
Exit, chasing a bear, or,
Enter, pursuing wildness without fear,
the love we perceive as strange, not merely dear.
—Tom Goff, Carmichael
Thanks be to Nora, partner in life
and guide through wildernesses real
and metaphoric.
How euphoric
am I, when, spurred by a wife
to probe for trails idyllic, even ideal,
we find ourselves in that losing-finding process
of stepping a gentle incline
along an alpine
ridge giving onto each access
of ravine and purple distance.
Up near Graeagle, high in the Sierras,
we aim to make
Smith Lake
and make the lake we do, without serious errors:
the lake small, a virtual pond,
but of water-diamond, the sheer surface
aspen-quivering silver mirror all its reed-pierced
length. Best of all, forty yards ahead
as we approach the shimmering quiet,
we see a small black bear we’ve startled;
he scampers away on all fours, from some surfeit
of feasting, pure creek water to drink,
and manzanita berries at every brink
or trailside cranny, like tiny burnt peanuts;
tasty and winter-vital to the bear.
And as we stare
at the hole in the forest atmosphere
Ursa has left, I remember Shakespeare’s
Bohemian play, with the direction Exit, pursued by a bear.
Long may Nora and I follow this pursuit
eternal, so that we have for our final cue,
Exit, chasing a bear, or,
Enter, pursuing wildness without fear,
the love we perceive as strange, not merely dear.
__________________
HIMEROS (The Muse Disappears)
—d.a. levy
she left a whisper
without a trace
yet i remember
a last hungry kiss
her golden face
__________________
—Medusa
SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:
October is Sacramento Poetry Month! Be sure to join us this 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: On November 12, Rattlesnake Press will release a new rattlechap from Red Fox Underground Poet Wendy Patrice Williams (Some New Forgetting); a littlesnake broadside from South Lake Tahoe Poet Ray Hadley (Children's Games); 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.......!
_________________
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.
