Sunday, August 31, 2008

No Refuge But Rue



AT THE BLACK ROCK
—May Sarton

Anger's the beast in me.
In you it is pride.
When they meet they lock.
There is no pity.
At the black rock
Where the beasts hide

Love turns to hate
In a cruel war,
And once it's begun
It is always too late
To be patient or fair.
And no one can win.

Let us go to the rock
Where the beasts hide
And kneeling there, pray
For some heart-cracking shock
To set us both free
From anger and pride.

At the cold impasse
Tame the anguished cries,
Mend what has been torn,
Bring the animals peace
Where they stand forlorn
With love in their eyes.

Can I do it? Can you?
It means yielding all.
It means going naked
No refuge but rue,
Admitting stark need—
Eden after the fall.

___________________

—Medusa


Saturday, August 30, 2008

Read the Passing Clouds


Dog on rooftop, Sacramento
Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
Watch for more of the dog on the roof
and other wonderful photos and prompts
coming Sept. 10 in Katy's new blank journal,
Musings2!


A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF
—James Galvin

My steel roof mirrors clouds
Like a book the sky left off reading.

The story of clouds passing keeps passing,
As stories will, even with the book turned over,

Even closed, shelved, forgotten;
Inside I leave off working

And turn my notebook spine up to wonder
What kind of story is boring the sky.

I don't have to go far for the answer.
I don't have to go anywhere.

Shall I take up serpents for interest?
I have taken up serpents.

Shall I refuse happiness?
For interest?

No, I shall claim the obvious,
That hearts are no exclusive province.

I shall go outside and lie down in the grass.
I shall read the passing clouds,

Chaotic, senseless, wise,
Unlike anything one finds in reflection.

___________________

I misspoke:

I was under the impression that Sacramento Poetry Center was not meeting this Monday because of Labor Day; t'ain't true; t'ain't true at all!

•••Monday (9/1), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center features An Evening of Comedy and Poetry with Carol Louise Moon, Michael Rose, Brad Buchanan, and Tim Kahl. HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. The night will feature a discussion of the relationship of comedy and poetry, including examples of comedic poems, improv, and a brief lecture on the cross-fertilization of both. Carol Louise Moon has been published in Brevities, Rattlesnake Review, Poetry Now, Updrafts and Poets Forum Magazine. She has a littlesnake broadside (Mindfully Moon) from Rattlesnake Press (as do Brad Buchanan and Tim Kahl). She is also the author of a new chapbook/comic book entitled Some Roman Alpha Letters Make Good Friends.

Michael Rowe is a member and organizer of the improv group at The Geary Theater at 22nd and L Streets in Sacramento.

Brad Buchanan teaches Modern British and American Literature and Creative Writing at California State University, Sacramento. His work has appeared in the U.S. in American Poets and Poetry, The Comstock Review, Confrontation, The Connecticut Poetry Review, Illuminations, Northeast, The Notre Dame Review, Peregrine, The Portland Review, RE: AL, The Seattle Review, The South Dakota Review, and Whetstone. His first book, The Miracle Shirker, was published by Poets Corner Press in 2005, and he has recently started his own literary press, Roan Press, which has published Swimming The Mirror, a book of poems dedicated to his daughter, Nora. He sometimes pawns himself off as an amateur gerontologist just to make people happy, and he also refers to himself as a relapsing rhymester.

Tim Kahl’s work has been published or is forthcoming in Prairie Schooner, American Letters & Commentary, Berkeley Poetry Review, Fourteen Hills, George Washington Review, Illuminations, Indiana Review, Limestone, Nimrod, Ninth Letter, Notre Dame Review, South Dakota Quarterly, The Journal, Parthenon West Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, The Texas Review, and many other journals in the U.S. He has translated Austrian avant-gardist, Friederike Mayröcker; Brazilian poets, Lêdo Ivo and Marly de Oliveira; and the poems of the Portuguese language’s only Nobel Laureate, José Saramago. He also appears as Victor Schnickelfritz at the poetry and poetics blog, The Great American Pinup (http://greatamericanpinup.blogspot.com/). His first collection, Possessing Yourself, is forthcoming from Word Tech Press in 2009. He is also the editor for Bald Trickster Press, which is dedicated to works of poetry in translation into English.

On September 8, SPC will feature poet Terry O' Neal.

__________________

ART CLASS
—James Galvin

Let us begin with a simple line,
Drawn as a child would draw it,
To indicate the horizon,

More real than the real horizon,
Which is less than line,
Which is visible abstraction, a ratio.

The line ravishes the page with implications
Of white earth, white sky!

The horizon moves as we move,
Making us feel central.
But the horizon is an empty shell—

Strange radius whose center is peripheral.
As the horizon draws us on, withdrawing,
The line draws us in,

Requiring further lines,
Engendering curves, verticals, diagonals,
Urging shades, shapes, figures...

What should we place, in all good faith,
On the horizon? A stone?
An empty chair? A submarine?

Take your time. Take it easy.
The horizon will not stop abstracting us.

___________________

LISTEN HARD

Enough and you can hear
The small breakages occurring.
That's what all sounds are:
Small sounds, small things breaking;
Big sounds, big things breaking.

Think of a drop of water
Flung from the grindstone.
It's always day, it's always night.
No such thing as tomorrow.

There's a match going out.
There's paying for privilege.
There's harm's way,

It's all the same day.
Sunlight drools on the grass.
An air of faded intimacy.

Listen to the sound of the pages turning.
Listen to the sound of the book when it closes.


—James Galvin

___________________

POSTCARD
—James Galvin

Days are cubes of light
That equal each other
Whether anything happens in them or not,
No matter what anyone did or didn't do,
They are equal.

The emptiest are lovely,
Though one is drawn to the bright-edged shards
Of days that cracked
From disappointment and longing.

Some days I go looking for oceans.
If I find one I search the beach
For the teeth I left
In a glass of water
In a motel room in Nebraska.

I'm losing the ability to tremble.
I find appearances helpful.
Some days I go looking for the sky.

__________________

RUBBER ANGEL
—James Galvin

The world is not
Your philosophical problem.

Generous with rigor,
Bright blue regardless of heat,

It flourishes in distance:

The flowers we preserved,
The owl-pocked forests
We defended with spikes.

Just try
Not living your life.
I dare you.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

This one carries the question mark as a burden, that one as a gift he is glad to have been given.

—Stephen Dobyns

__________________

—Medusa


Friday, August 29, 2008

Even One Clear Stanza


Photo by Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos


THE BIRD KINGDOM
—Czeslaw Milosz

Flying high the heavy wood grouse
Slash the forest sky with their wings
And a pigeon returns to its airy wilderness
And a raven gleams with airplane steel.

What is the earth for them? A lake of darkness.
It has been swallowed by the night forever.
They, above the dark as above black waves,
Have their homes and islands, saved by the light.

If they groom their long feathers with their beaks
And drop one of them, it floats a long time
Before it reaches the bottom of the lake
And brushes someone's face, bringing news
From a world that is bright, beautiful, warm, and free.

__________________

This weekend in NorCal poetry:

•••Sat. (8/30), 7-9 PM: “The Show” poetry series presents Rudy Francisco, a member of the Los Angeles Hollywood Slam Team, and local favorites Mouthpeace. Rudy Francisco is the co-host of the two largest poetry venues in San Diego (Elevated and Vibes). Rudy has featured at A Mic and Dim Lights, the Untamed Tongues Poetry Lounge in Las Vegas, has been crowned San Diego's Poet of the People on two separate occasions. Ultimately, Rudy's goal is to continue to assist others in harnessing their creativity while cultivating his own 2007 San Diego Grand Slam Champion. $5 General Admission. Wo'se Community Center 2863 35th St. (off 35th and Broadway) in Sacramento. Info: (916) 208-POET.

•••Monday (9/1): No reading at Sacramento Poetry Center due to Labor Day.

_________________

THE SUN
—Czeslaw Milosz

All colors come from the sun. And it does not have
Any particular color, for it contains them all.
And the whole Earth is like a poem
While the sun above represents the artist.

Whoever wants to paint the variegated world
Let him never look straight up at the sun
Or he will lose the memory of things he has seen.
Only burning tears will stay in his eyes.

Let him kneel down, lower his face to the grass,
And look at light reflected by the ground.
There he will find everything we have lost:
The stars and the roses, the dusks and the dawns.

___________________

PREFACE
—Czeslaw Milosz

First, plain speech is the mother tongue.
Hearing it, you should be able to see
Apple trees, a river, the bend of a road,
As if in a flash of summer lightning.

And it should contain more than images.
It has been lured by singsong,
A daydream, melody. Defenseless,
It was bypassed by the sharp, dry world.

You often ask yourself why you feel shame
Whenever you look through a book of poetry.
As if the author, for reasons unclear to you,
Addressed the worse side of your nature,
Pushing aside thought, cheating thought.

Seasoned with jokes, clowning, satire,
Poetry still knows how to please.
Then its excellence is much admired.
But the grave combats where life is at stake
Are fought in prose. It was not always so.

And our regret has remained unconfessed.
Novels and essay serve but will not last.
One clear stanza can take more weight
Than a whole wagon of elaborate prose.

___________________

HAPPINESS
—Czeslaw Milosz

How warm the light! From the glowing bay
The masts like spruce, repose of the ropes
In the morning mist. Where a stream trickles
Into the sea, by a small bridge—a flute.
Farther, under the arch of ancient ruins
You see a few tiny walking figures.
One wears a red kerchief. There are trees,
Ramparts, and mountains at an early hour.

___________________

AFTER PARADISE
—Czeslaw Milosz

Don't run anymore. Quiet. How softly it rains
On the roofs of the city. How perfect
All things are. Now, for the two of you
Waking up in a royal bed by a garret window.
For a man and a woman. For one plant divided
Into masculine and feminine which longed for each other.
Yes, this is my gift to you. Above ashes
On a bitter, bitter earth. Above the subterranean
Echo of clamorings and vows. So that now at dawn
You must be attentive: the tilt of a head,
A hand with a comb, two faces in a mirror
Are only forever once, even if unremembered,
So that you watch what is, though it fades away,
And are grateful every moment for your being.
Let that little park with greenish marble busts
In the pearl-gray light, under a summer drizzle,
Remain as it was when you opened the gate.
And the street of tall peeling porticoes
Which this love of yours suddenly transformed.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

Never make excuses, never let them see you bleed, and never get separated from your baggage.

—from Wesley Price's
Three Rules of Professional Comportment for Writers

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Before...


Clotilda


LACE-WINGED FRILLYWIT
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones, Tehama

Clotilda the Lace-winged Frillywit
reigns over my garden
Rebar legs
hold up her slender spade body
and tractor-tine head and beak
Filigree from an old screen door
forms her flightless wings
On her brow a metal cockade
wants to tremble in the wind
Glass eyes seasons ago unglued
painted feathers long dimmed
You won't find her
in any bird book
Clotilda holds herself proud
one of a kind

_________________

Thanks, PWJ, for the "profile". Clotilda the Poem was another result of a "free write" [see yesterday's post].


Two contests and two retreats:

•••New Southerner Literary Contest:
$200 prizes for poetry, fiction and nonfiction
Postmark deadline: October 1, 2008

Three prizes of $200 each and publication in New Southerner will be awarded for works of poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction.

* 5,000 word limit for prose
* 50 line limit for poetry
* Entry Fee: $10 per entry
* Multiple entries accepted

Final judges will include:
Nonfiction — Kathryn Eastburn (author of A Sacred Feast and Simon Says)
Poetry — Erin Keane (author of The Gravity Soundtrack and The One-Hit Wonders) and Cecilia Woloch (author of Tsigan and Late)
Fiction — TBA

Send two copies—one with the author’s name, address, phone number and optional e-mail address in the upper right-hand corrner, the other with no author information. Include separate title page for each entry indicating title of work, category, author’s name, address and phone number.

Entries must be the author’s original, unpublished work and should be appropriate for publication in New Southerner. The magazine’s mission is to promote self-sufficient living, environmental stewardship and support for local economies. For more information, see our submission guidelines online at newsoutherner.com/aboutus.htm.

Entries should be mailed to:
New Southerner Literary Contest
375 Wood Valley Lane
Louisville, KY 40299

Questions regarding entries should be directed to bobbibuchanan@newsoutherner.com.


•••Upcoming Book Contest in FutureCycle Poetry:

FutureCycle Poetry is dedicated to publishing lasting poetry that works in all tenses: past, present, and future. Please submit your work via e-mail to submissions@futurecycle.org/. Please read our Guidelines at www.futurecycle.org before submitting.

Respond to rsking@futurecycle.org

Robert S. King, Director, FutureCycle Press


•••Writing with Laura Davis:

Laura Davis, author and writing coach, is offering four weekly writing classes this fall, all meeting in the Santa Cruz area. Two are writing practice classes, based on the work of Natalie Goldberg, in which you access your wild mind to create powerful first drafts in class. The other two are feedback classes, appropriate for fiction, non-fiction and memoir writers. Daylong Write/Soak/Sweat/Eat retreats are also available once a month this fall for self-indulgent writers who want to be nurtured along with their creativity—write in a yurt, sweat in a sauna, soak in a hot tub and eat a communal meal—all in a rustic setting in Soquel. Beginning and experienced writers welcome to all classes and workshops.

For more information, go to: http://www.lauradavis.net/writing_workshops.asp or call Laura at 831-818-6875.


•••Mountain light studio spaces for artists and writers:

Rustic redwood building on five acres of elemental beauty. Work inside or out. $2/square foot/month. Adaptable sizes, up to 19' x19'. 25 minutes from San Jose/Santa Cruz. Contact LaVerne at 408-353-8085.

__________________

B.L.'s Drive-By: A Micro-Review from B.L. Kennedy:

2012: The War for Souls
By Whitley Strieber
ISBN 13:978-0-7653-1896-1
$24.95 (hardcover)

Whitley Strieber is the author of 18 novels and 9 non-fiction books that range from horror to alien abduction. In this latest book, a novel, the author of Communion and The Hunger takes on the Mayan mythology which surrounds the year 2012. It has always amazed me that Strieber can take such a simple subject and induce fear into any reader with his skill and grace as an artist. With his 2012: The War for Souls, the author reaches beyond anything that he has written in the past and accomplishes his mission with masterful narrative and poetic imagination. So, for those of you who are in love with this particular school of literature, I highly recommend this book; and for those of you unfamiliar with the work that Strieber has turned out over the years—hey, 2012: The War for Souls is a great place to start.

—B.L. Kennedy, Reviewer-in-Residence

___________________

OF THREE OR FOUR IN A ROOM
—Yehuda Amichai

Of three or four in a room
there is always one who stands beside the window.
He must see the evil among thorns
and the fires on the hill.
And how people who went out of their houses whole
are given back in the evening like small change.

Of three or four in a room
there is always one who stands beside the window,
his dark hair above his thoughts.
Behind him, words.
And in front of him, voices wandering without a knapsack,
hearts without provisions, prophecies without water,
large stones that have been returned
and stay sealed, like letters that have no
address and no one to receive them.

___________________

AUTUMN RAIN IN TEL AVIV
—Yehuda Amichai

A proud, very beautiful woman sold me
a piece of sweet cake
across the counter. Her eyes hard, her back to the sea.
Black clouds on the horizon
forecast storm and lightning
and her body answered them from inside
her sheer dress,
still a summer dress,
like fierce dogs awakening.

That night, among friends in a closed room,
I listened to the heavy rain pelting the window
and the voice of a dead man on tape:
the reel was turning
against the direction of time.

__________________

LOOK: THOUGHTS AND DREAMS
—Yehuda Amichai

Look: thoughts and dreams are weaving over us
their warp and woof, their wide camouflage-net,
and the reconnaissance planes and God
will never know
what we really want
and where we are going.

Only the voice that rises at the end of a question
still rises above the world and hangs there,
even if it was made by
mortar shells, like a ripped flag,
like a mutilated cloud.

Look, we too are going
in the reverse-flower way:
to begin with a calyx exulting toward the light,
to descend with the stem growing more and more solemn,
to arrive at the closed earth and to wait there for a while,
and to end as a root, in the darkness, in the deep womb.

__________________

THE PLACE WHERE WE ARE RIGHT
—Yehuda Amachai

From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the spring.

The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.

But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
where the ruined
house once stood.

_________________

Today's LittleNip:

BEFORE
—Yehuda Amichai

Before the gate has been closed,
before the last question is posed,
before I am transposed.
Before the weeds fill the gardens,
before there are no more pardons,
before the concrete hardens.
Before all the flute-holes are covered,
before things are locked in the cupboard,
before the rules are discovered.
Before the conclusion is planned,
before God closes his hand,
before we have nowhere to stand.

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The Leftover Love



KYRIE ELEISON
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

Phosphorescent heaven darkens
to the west, raptor-hungry swarm
overclouding. The night harkens,
Kyrie chanted on the storm.

From oaks deep-rooted, wind-flung leaves
strike against this house cruciform,
its timbers clattering the eaves,
Kyrie chanted on the storm.

Each soul sleeps solitary, cold
as comfort that could never warm
the flesh, the spirit thunder-tolled,
Kyrie chanted on the storm.

The God of lightning aims them low,
these brilliant flashes that transform
our dreams to prayers. The night’s aglow,
Kyrie chanted on the storm.

___________________

Thanks, TG, for the kyrielle! Taylor Graham was responding to our Seed of the Week: After Midnight. Here's another response, this one from Patricia Wellingham-Jones. She and Stephani Schaefer get together sometimes and write spur-of-the-moment poems, which is what this one was:


THROUGH THE ARCH OF MIDNIGHT
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones, Tehama

The arch of midnight
brackets a pale moon,
hovers over an owl
humming down the creek.

The woman in a green gown
picks her way through pebbles
to the bole of an old oak tree,
a folded paper gleaming white.

__________________

Poems Wanted for Poets of the American West:

Many Voices Press is accepting submissions for an anthology of poets from Arizona, California, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wyoming. They are selecting poems NOW. No deadline; they will continue to review submissions until they have selected a quantity sufficient to compile a 400-page manuscript. Poets of the American West will be published in 2009.

Guidelines for Submissions:

— Send up to twelve poems of any length, any style, any subject matter.
— Include contact information on each poem: name, address, phone, email.
— Include a SASE for response. No manuscripts will be returned.
— Include a $12 entry fee. All entrants will receive a copy of the anthology (a $20 value). Many Voices Press is a non-profit public service organization.
— Poems in Native American languages or in Spanish must also include English translations. (They will publish both versions side-by-side.)
— Include a brief bio. (Yes, they want to know about your awards and previous publications, but please also tell them something more creative, original, and interesting about your life in the American West.)
— Poems previously published must include name of magazine, issue, and date. If the poem was previously published in a book, include title of book, publisher, and date. Important: Authors must obtain reprint rights. MVP can not pay reprint fees.
— After publication of Poets of the American West, all publication rights revert to the author.
— Include a completed Submission Data Form (obtainable by writing to the address below, or printable from our website http://www.fvcc.edu/news-events/academic-news/many-voices-press/)
— Send all the above materials to:
Many Voices Press
Flathead Valley Community College
777 Grandview Drive
Kalispell, Montana 59901
406-756-3907

Many Voices Press aims to publish the best poems available. Recently they published Poems Across the Big Sky (an anthology of Montana poets), which sold more than 2000 copies in less than six months. They are especially interested in new or established voices of the American West. In addition to poems in English, they are seeking poems in Native American languages or in Spanish.

They say: What are we looking for? We are most interested in poems that offer original insights into historical or contemporary life in the American West. We are open to all poems of merit, regardless of style, though narrative poems accessible to a broad readership are most likely to catch our attention.

_________________

EVERY MORNING
—Alice Walker

Every morning I exercise
my body.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
I give it a plié
in response.
I heave my legs
off the floor
and feel my stomach muscles
rebel:
they are mutinous
there are rumblings
of dissent.

I have other things
to show,
but mostly, my body.
"Don't you see that person
staring at you?" I ask my breasts,
which are still capable
of staring back.
"If I didn't exercise
you couldn't look up
that far.
You life would be nothing
but shoes."
"Let us at least say we're doing it
for ourselves";
my fingers are eloquent;
they never sweat.

_________________

I'M REALLY
VERY FOND
—Alice Walker

I'm really very fond of you,
he said.

I don't like fond.
It sounds like something
you would tell a dog.

Give me love,
or nothing.

Throw your fond in a pond,
I said.

But what I felt for him
was also warm, frisky,
moist-mouthed,
eager,
and could swim away

if forced to do so.

__________________

HOW POEMS ARE
MADE/A
DISCREDITED VIEW
—Alice Walker

Letting go
in order to hold on
I gradually understand
how poems are made.

There is a place the fear must go.
There is a place the choice must go.
There is a place the loss must go.
The leftover love.
The love that spills out
of the too full cup
and runs and hides
its too full self
in shame.

I gradually comprehend
how poems are made.
To the upbeat flight of memories.
The flagged beats of the running
heart.

I understand how poems are made.
They are the tears
that season the smile.
The stiff-neck laughter
that crowds the throat.
The leftover love.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

REPRESENTING THE UNIVERSE
—Alice Walker

There are five people in this room
who still don't know what I'm saying.
"What is she saying?" they're asking.
"What is she doing here?"

It is not enough to be interminable;
one must also be precise.

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Five O'Clock Shadows



DRUMSTICK IN SUMMER HEAT
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton


Brown sugar cone sweet honey flavor;
thin chocolate coating atop a nutty valley
of delectable vanilla.
“Do your chores” Mom would say;
“and there will be a shiny quarter for your efforts.”
Dishes done, floor swept, flower garden watered,
ready, ready, ice cream here I come.
I would skip to the corner market hearing the creak
of floor slats as I entered;
slide the refrigerated compartment door open;
reach down into the frost and grabbed a drumstick—
my favorite ice cream treat.
I could taste delicious scrumptious bites before I tackled
its iconic wrapper.
Summer heat:
she punched at nut clusters; they fell from chocolate as if in
a ring of boxers—my white blouse the soiled garment of Mom's
impending shrill.

__________________

More publishing opportunities:

•••Song of the San Joaquin, a California Federation of Chaparral Poets, Inc. publication, accepts submissions of poetry having to do with life in the San Joaquin Valley of California. This area is defined geographically as the region from Fresno to Stockton, and from the foothills on the west to those on the east. Send typed manuscripts to: Editor, Song of the San Joaquin, PO Box 1161, Modesto, CA 95353-1161.
Deadlines: September 15 for Fall, December 15 for Winter. Please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope (SASE) for return of unused poems and/or notification of acceptance. Be sure your return envelopes have the right amount of postage. Notification time may range from three weeks to three months. Send up to three poems per issue, name and contact information on each poem. E-mail submissions accepted but please put all identification on each separate poem including mailing address. Poem length is limited to 40 lines. Please send a three- to five-line bio. For more information e-mail cleor36@yahoo.com or call (209) 543-1776. Writers retain all rights. Your submission of manuscripts is considered permission for one-time publication plus publication on our website and/or our calendar. If you do not wish to be considered for these please let us know in your cover letter. The editors reserve the right to correct punctuation and spelling. Every effort will be made to contact the poet in regard to such changes. Payment is one copy of the issue in which your work appears. For samples of poetry from previous issues, see www.ChaparralPoets.org/SSJarchives.html/. Or send for copies: a single issue is $5.00, the annual subscription $18. Send to address above. Make checks out to Song of the San Joaquin.

(Hint: you don't actually have to live in the San Joaquin Valley to write about it...)


•••California Federation of Chaparral Poets, Inc. Monthly Contest:

Prizes $25, $15, $10. Except where otherwise indicated, poems are limited to 28 lines of text, not including the title or space following the title. Fee: $2/poem OR 3 poems/$5. (Make checks out to CFCP, Inc.) There is no limit to the number of poems submitted each month with the appropriate fees. Poems for the monthly contests must be postmarked by the last day of the month for that category. For those entrants who use a post-office that does not date-stamp mail, a written date beneath the return address will suffice. All forms accepted for all categories, within line limits.

Send TWO copies of each poem with author's name and address front upper right corner on ONE copy only. Put no identification on the second copy. Poems must not have previously been awarded a money prize. If previously published please state where. Print contest month on outside of mailing envelope, at the front right top corner of both copies of each poem. If you wish to receive a winners’ list, please send SASE with proper postage and note the contest month on the envelope.

Send entries to Cleo Griffith, Monthly Contest Editor, CFCP, Inc., 4409 Diamond Court, Salida, CA 95368. Info: cleor36@yahoo.com/. (209) 543-1776.

2008 SUBJECTS FOR MONTHLY CONTEST (followed by judge's name):

AUGUST: Pearls and Platinum (Cynthia Bryant)
SEPTEMBER: What I should have said (June Saraceno)
OCTOBER: Boredoms (12 lines or less) (Lora Zill)
NOVEMBER: Spangles and tangles (judge TBA)
DECEMBER: NO CONTEST
___________________

MOVING FRED'S OUTHOUSE:
GERIATRICS OF PINE
—Michael Ondaatje

All afternoon (while the empty drive-in
screen in the distance promises)
we are moving the two-seater
100 yards across his garden

We turn it over on its top
and over, and as it slowly
falls on its side
the children cheer

60 years old and a change in career—
from these pale yellow flowers emerging
out of damp wood in the roof
to become a room thorough with flight, noise,
and pregnant with the morning's eggs,
a perch for chickens.

Two of us. The sweat.
Our hands under the bottom
then the top as it goes
over, through twin holes the
flowers, running to move the roller, shove,
and everybody screaming to keep the dog away.
Fred the pragmatist—dragging the ancient comic
out of retirement and into a television series
among the charging democracy of rhode island reds

Head over heels across the back lawn
old wood collapsing in our hands

All afternoon the silent space is turned

__________________

BEARHUG
—Michael Ondaatje

Griffin calls to come and kiss him goodnight
I yell ok. Finish something I'm doing,
then something else, walk slowly round
the corner to my son's room.
He is standing arms outstretched
waiting for a bearhug. Grinning.

Why do I give my emotion an animal's name,
give it that dark squeeze of death?
This is the hug which collects
all his small bones and his warm neck against me.
The thin tough body under the pyjamas
locks to me like a magnet of blood.

How long was he standing there
like that, before I came?

__________________

GRIFFIN OF THE NIGHT
—Michael Ondaatje

I'm holding my son in my arms
sweating after nightmares
small me
fiingers in his mouth
his other fist clenched in my hair
small me
sweating after nightmares.

_________________

WE'RE AT THE GRAVEYARD
—Michael Ondaatje

Stuart Sally Kim and I
watching still stars
or now and then sliding stars
like hawk spit to the trees.
Up there the clear charts,
the systems' intricate branches
which change with hours and solstices,
the bone geometry of moving from there, to there.

And down here—friends
whose minds and bodies
shift like acrobats to each other.
When we leave, they move
to an altitude of silence.

So our minds shape
and lock the transient,
parallel these bats
who organize the air
with thick blinks of travel.
Sally is like grey snow in the grass.
Sally of the beautiful bones
pregnant below stars.

____________________

AT MIDNIGHT
—Ted Kooser

Somewhere in the night,
a dog is barking,
starlight like beads of dew
along his tight chain.
No one is there
beyond the dark garden,
nothing to bark at
except, perhaps, the thoughts
of some old man
sending his memories
out for a midnight walk,
a rich cape
woven of many loves
swept recklessly
about his shoulders.




Seed of the Week: After midnight:

This week, send me your poems about the wee hours: Cinderella's return, what went on at the drive-in, nightmares, sweet dreams, howlings under the moon (what is the dog barking at?). Or, if you're like me, the five o'clock shadows—cold chills about looming bills and all those coulda/woulda/shouldas. Send your poems to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. Or let the ideas percolate, send 'em later—no deadline on Seeds of the Week.


__________________

Today's LittleNip:

A book is like a garden carried in the pocket.

—Chinese proverb

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Bikes & Onions & Twinkling Lights


Kevin Jones


BIKING IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, JANUARY
—Kevin Jones, Fair Oaks

It’s
The sort of
Place
Where
You can
Get bugs
In your mouth
Year round.

__________________

BIKING IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, FEBRUARY
—Kevin Jones

Only out
Twenty minutes
And already
Been rained on
Hailed on
Startled by lightning
Stared at by two
Coyotes, and
Cut off by deer.

It will
Have been
A good day
If I don’t
Drown,
Catch pneumonia,
Get eaten,
Or otherwise
Struck down
By various
Acts of
God.

__________________

Thanks, Kevin! A refugee from a small Illinois town that closely resembled either Winesburg, Ohio, or perhaps Masters’ Spoon River, Kevin Jones currently resides in Fair Oaks, California, and teaches at the Sacramento Center of Union Institute & University. When not teaching or poeting, he enjoys grubbing through thrift shops for obscure books, spending time with family, and performing what he insists is comedy magic as Poppo the Not Too Bad. Watch for a littlesnake broadside from Kevin, Low-Rent Dojo, coming in December from Rattlesnake Press.


This week in NorCal poetry:

•••Monday (8/25), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Ann Keniston and June Saraceno at HQ for the Arts, 25th & R Sts., Sacramento. Refreshments; free; open mic to follow. [See last Friday's post for bios.]

•••Wednesday (8/27), 6-7 PM: Upstairs Poetry Reading at The Upstairs Art Gallery, 420 Main St. (2nd floor), Placerville. It's a poetry open-mike read-around, so bring your own poems or those of a favorite poet to share, or just come to listen. No charge.

•••Thursday (8/28), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Featured reader(s) with open mic before and after.


Three publishing opportunities:

•••Red Ink Magazine is currently accepting submissions for the Fall 2008 issue: Native American Women. Please submit original essays, reviews, poetry, fiction, nonficition, art, and photography by August 31. For submission guidelines, please visit www.redinkmagazine.com or call 520-626-0691 for more information.

•••Keary Street Books is accepting submissions for Tribute to Orpheus 2, an anthology of prose and poetry by or about music or musicians. Previously published OK. Send to PO Box 2021, Bellingham, WA 98227. See Tribute to Orpheus on Amazon to get a sense of the previous anthology.

•••Caesura, the journal of Poetry Center San Jose, seeks poems with a focus on the cultural aspects of food, as well as book reviews, black and white photography, and art. Submit between Aug. 15 and Oct. 5. Send up to 3 poems to caesura@pcsj.org. Full guidelines at www.pcsj.org/caesura.html

___________________

“All things must pass”
—George Harrison


Balloon-tired bike
Finally passes someone.
The look on the face
Of the passed—
Such surprise—
There is no gloating.
Well, almost none.

—Kevin Jones

__________________


THE QUICK, THE DEAD, AND THE BIKE
—Kevin Jones

I.

That too
Too solid thump
Under both
Wheels:
Another
Squirrel suicide
By biker.


II.

Happens a lot:
They just dart out
Of the bushes.
Darwin’s theory
At work.
Or maybe Schwinn’s.


III.

Could put the
Tail on
My fender guard
As a decoration
If I had
A fender
Guard.

_________________

STORING THE BICYCLE
—Kevin Jones

I keep
The bikes
In the wine
Cellar.

Too hot,
Too cold,
Too wet
To ride?

Catch a flat?
There are still
Ways of
Being entertained.

__________________

BLOOMIN ONION
—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento

Walking along blistering cement,
our crusty, deep-fried onion in hand,
daughter, granddaughter and I rush
toward a small table in scarce shade.
We cannot resist fair food. I’ve just
finished a large order of fried zucchini.
Now, our onion has exploded into a sweet,
crunchy, greasy blossom. We dig in,
thinking one will not be enough
for three of us. Each slender piece
is swirled in the ranch dressing,
white as its Styrofoam cup.
The first few bites fulfill their promise,
but saturation catches up, we slow down,
leave half our lunch for the birds.

I remember another State Fair,
pregnant, sitting in filtered shade
on a worn cement curb, eating melon
in scorching 104 degrees, feet swollen,
shoulders sunburned, chocolates
melting. We all thought
it was permanent: the brick buildings,
one for each —Swine, Equine, Poultry,
and the family barns for sulky racing—
all uniform, white wood with green trim.
You could sit near the bandstand
under trees, leaves big as dinner plates,
spend the day lounging with lemonade
and local musicians. Or, wait till evening,
when Curly the clown would lasso
the bull riders at the rodeo, and your son
was thrilled to get his autograph. But,
we traded shade, classic buildings, and
grass, for progress, concrete, and indigestion.


(Previously published in Art With Words, 2005)

__________________

Thanks, Jeanine, for your response to last Saturday's post about the old State Fair vs. the new one. Gosh—she already had a poem about it!

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

What you call the world are twinkling lights between you and the mystery.

—Stephen Dobyns

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

These Ordinary Facts


Hotei
—Hokusai



THE FORGIVENESS OF SINS
—Joyce Carol Oates

The dying embrace us
and it is not necessary to confess
how, squirming in one embrace,
someone yearns crazily for another
how, that day downtown,
someone ducked into a drugstore
to avoid someone else

the blue-rinsed hair, the day-old Easter orchid
in its plastic vial!

The dying embrace us
their shiny-skinned fingers are forgiving
always an odor of soapy warmth
above the hospital sheets
Someone will always be dying
someone will always be forgiven

Is it necessary to confess
how, weeping in one embrace,
someone is already wiping tears away
already walking toward the car?

Dying, they know these ordinary facts.
They love, they forgive.
They instruct.

___________________

—Medusa

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Good-Bye to August



A CONEY ISLAND LIFE
—James L. Weil

Having lived a Coney Island life
on rollercoaster ups and downs
and seen my helium hopes
break skyward without me,
now arms filled with dolls
I threw so much for
I take perhaps my last ride
on this planet-carousel
and ask
how many more times round
I have
to catch that brass-ring-sun
before the game is up.

__________________

Been to the State Fair yet? When I was growing up in Sacramento, the Fair was always the last gasp of kid-summer before school started. Remember the old fairgrounds? The Hall of Flowers, the animals, the dust... and of course the rides and the carnival. Everything seemed smaller, as they say.

Up here in the woods, school started August 11 (they have to allow room in the year for snow days). And the new fairgrounds are, well, just not the same. Too clean, too spread-out, and the animals are shoved 'way off in the corner; you can't even smell 'em, most of the time. And, well, I'm not a kid anymore...

Anyway, pardon me waxing up my nostalgia. Time to say good-bye to August, get on with it. We have a busy Fall ahead, and the Fair is almost half over. Got any State Fair poems for me, old fairgrounds or new?


FALL
—Sally Andresen

The geese flying south
In a row long and V-shaped
Pulling in winter.

___________________

She had forgotten how the August night
Was level as a lake beneath the moon,
In which she swam a little, losing sight
Of shore; and how the boy, who was at noon
Simple enough, not different from the rest,
Wore now a pleasant mystery as he went,
Which seemed to her an honest enough test
Whether she loved him, and she was content.
So loud, so loud the million crickets' choir...
So sweet the night, so long-drawn-out and late...
And if the man were not her spirit's mate,
Why was her body sluggish with desire?
Stark on the open field the moonlight fell,
But the oak tree's shadow was deep and black and
secret as a well.


—Edna St. Vincent Millay

__________________

AUGUST
—Mary Oliver

When the blackberries hang
swollen in the woods, in the brambles
nobody owns, I spend

all day among the high
branches, reaching
my ripped arms, thinking

of nothing, cramming
the black honey of summer
into my mouth; all day my body

accepts what it is. In the dark
creeks that run by there is
this thick paw of my life darting among

the black bells, the leaves; there is
this happy tongue.






__________________

Today's LittleNip:

Like child astrike a merry-go-round lion, so he rode his anger.

—Stephen Dobyns

__________________

—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 Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings2: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); a littlesnake broadside (Wind Physics) from Jordan Reynolds; 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 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.