—David Iribarne, Sacramento
No one around
baby left violently awake
crying wondering where home lies.
Innocence wasted, walls crumbling
sleep left late.
Barely alive, her nine strands
of blond hair glow as she sleeps.
Drool dribbles from her mouth
as she flops her arms back and forth.
Not knowing where to run,
no choice, she left her on the bench.
Mother not ready.
Confusion, depression follow her home.
Shadows of guilt surround her.
She walks home, each step feeling like
her legs are made of stone,
drowning into the sidewalk
Baby violently awake,
home taken away, before it could be home.
Mother cries, tears weigh heavy.
She hopes forgiveness will follow her home.
Hopes it will not desert her.
Night eats up day, and mother too
is left violently awake.
Ran to the water
blistering sky above
water bled with you
as I ran my hands through it.
Thought I had forgotten you
but as my hands graced
the cold water your soul
was pulled out.
Water was warm with you
I began to feel at peace.
More and more I began to unfold
the crevices of my feelings.
You became alive in me,
water welled in my eyes.
Jumped in the water
where you once were
where you once died.
Swam with you
circled the area I last saw you.
The last place I held you,
talked to you, touched you.
Water was refreshing, I felt comfortable.
Didn’t bother to dry you off.
Wanted to keep you with me
as long as possible.
No more did I feel cold,
there was sadness,
but I felt I could overcome it.
Arrived home, looked back
at my footprints, the drops of water
and thought you were back walking with me.
Met you again that night
over drinks and happenings
talked about events of the past year.
Sat comfortably in the rubber chair
didn’t feel the edge of the table rubbing against my stomach.
My eyes were focused totally onto you
conversation just flowed so freely
silence did not create tension
it was just that—beautiful quiet.
Noticed that you smiled when I told
you of my experiences of last year
in the past you frowned upon me and my decisions
now I felt at ease and no judgment
was given by your words or your eyes.
Somehow two hours had passed
pizza hardly eaten
many glasses of beer poured
many words spoken and cherished.
Arrived home that night
noticed that we exchanged
so much more than dialogue
we listened to each other intently
interested in each other and our lives
something that was not present
in past meetings.
Before our conversations seemed
like conferences and debates
whereas this time everything
felt so smooth and so connected.
That night was such a simple night
such a night like any other summer night.
Yet it was not a night I could have anticipated
Had not foreseen enjoying my beer with you
not expected dialogue that was not followed by sighs
that we would leave each other in such a comfortable state.
Never did I think that night
that I would be meeting
you again for the first time.
Have you looked at the moon?
She is so beautiful in all her glory
my kids slip n’ slide by its light
peaceful loving feelings surround me
as memories slip n’ slide in my mind
I smile, first time in a long time.
Hear you laugh with your sister
temperature just right all round
slightly cool with breezes
I bask in the wind
feel like I am glowing
wet with happiness.
So many times before I had watched my kids
swim with the grass
and never had I been so green with envy.
Can’t believe that I had not noticed
the sweet magnificence of it.
Maybe it was the moment
Maybe it was the temperature
maybe it was the light of the moon
maybe it was their smile
that made it all the more apparent.
Frankly, I don’t care.
You speak to me in so many ways.
Seven days of struggle, you survived.
Strength, endurance was challenged.
Those days you taught me how to live
as you died.
Sat with you that night
room was still fully quiet
your breath is all that echoes.
Ran my hands up and down
the contours of body
building up sweet lasting memories.
You asked to sever life that night
hoping you would not live much longer.
You lasted longer than you thought
your vigor awakened, allowing you
to say goodbye in your own way.
and to all you wanted.
During the course of the week
we thought you would go many times
your breath would stutter and slowly space
then you would moan and grasp our hands
letting us know that you
were not ready to leave just yet.
Time and time again thought your battle was over.
Informed friends that it was your last hour
but you surprised us again
by lasting another hour, another day.
So many times during your life
you had taught me about courage:
when you taught me to stand up to others
walk away in instances, but always to face your fears.
When during your confidant’s last days
You stood next to her holding her hand.
When they drained toxins and blood from your body
your concern weighed on others and their well-being.
How the skin on your head brutally peeled leaving it rough
you continued to live on not complaining.
Although it was during these last days
You taught me the most about valor and true life.
In the face of it all
we sometimes lose
ourselves, lose each other.
Stood by your name that night
always seems something
will remind me of you.
Your memories shelter me,
take over my mind.
Polished your letters
tracing the letters with my fingers.
seems my heart is still at war.
I never know which way to turn.
How do I keep you close?
Why did you have to leave so soon?
How do I save your memories?
Gently rubbed my fingers
over your name again.
Remembered your blond hair
dimples more apparent as you smiled
you stayed with me even after you left.
I looked at you, you shined that night.
I felt good.
Put my hand over your name
began to discover beauty again.
Saw that I did not have
to answer all things at once
just enjoy what you gave me.
Things began to disappear that night
and for once I wasn’t worried.
You did not have to tell me why you left
because you really were still there.
Thanks to David Iribarne for the poems! David will be reading at The Show at the Guild Theater this coming Saturday night; be sure to go hear him (see our b-board for details). There's a lot happening this weekend, in fact—check it all out on the b-board. And thanks to Katy Brown for the photo and LittleNip, and for finding us this unsettling bus photo on the Web.
While you're scrolling around on the b-board, be sure to take note of yet another new feature: Kool Thing of the Week. Click there for something tasty. You may've noticed, though, that "of the week" on Medusa doesn't necessarily mean those things are changed on a weekly basis. Deal with it: Medusa is a moody harridan. But you knew that.........
We were speaking of J.L. Borges earlier, and Robin Odam writes to point out that yesterday was his 112th birthday, for which Google posted a special "doodle" on their home page in honor of him, if you happened to catch it.
NET OF LIGHT
—Katy Brown, Davis
The spider casts a silver net
between the branches of an elm:
a web of light will catch her prey.
Assassin of the garden lands,
she handles meals with all eight hands.
A net of light will catch her prey
between the branches of an elm.
The spider casts a silver web.