Ladybug
—Photo by Joyce Odam
EACH YEAR SHE VOWED
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento
She knew what it was to
sorrow by degrees,
the thin extending shadows of
her years,
the blank look in the mirror
of her eyes.
Oh, she was sad enough to
specialize
in winter’s puny light—that
tone of gray
that January brings. Each year she vowed
to lift the house with
light—to have it
glow and penetrate the
winter—still—
she hangs onto her angers
like a duty.
She knows what it is to
sorrow by degrees.
(first pub. in Hidden Oak, 2004)
_____________________
IMPASSE
—Joyce Odam
we sulk through the house
wising we could love each
other
or wishing we could
hate each other better
____________________
DEADLY ROSES
—Joyce Odam
—Joyce Odam
I am not so content
with roses now.
They crowd and suffocate.
Their petals drop like prayers—
unanswered and ignored.
They bruise my carpet
where I pace in all my fury.
Your love has killed me,
so I kill it back.
I shred it into screams.
These roses that you send
compress the air.
Why send me roses now!
Why offer insult upon sting!
Words cannot be taken back.
I scorn your roses—keep their
thorns.
Ragged Leaf
—Photo by Joyce Odam
WOMEN WHO HATE VIOLENCE
—Joyce Odam
How they react
to the weapon and the
thought.
Hating it.
Wishing it away.
If a bullet should come at
them
they would stand and weep
and hold their hands out.
They would offer their love.
(first pub. in One Dog Press)
_________________
LIGHTHOUSE
—Joyce Odam
—Joyce Odam
If I were the sea
I would use you for a focal
point:
your light for my darkness;
I would use you for a
boundary
to gauge my edge against;
I would know where I could
test
my calm and fury,
let my ships beware,
warn my whales,
and give your shore-gulls
praise
for marking stormy skies
with their whiteness.
I would always know where you
are
so I could ever surge toward
you
with my lonely power.
_________________
Thanks to Joyce Odam for our Kitchen fare today, finishing up our Seed of the Week: Danger! Explosives! Our new SOW is appropriate to the season: Empty Nests. Send your thoughts about that vacant real estate, either real or figurative, to kathykieth@hotmail.com
Trina Drotar sends us a link to her new website:
www.insearchofthecormorant.blogspot.com
as well as to some reviews:
www.sacramentopress.com/headline/68549/Book_Talk_Linville_Palmares_Meadows_Miranda_and_N
Poets everywhere will be saddened to know that Gene Bloom has passed away. Gene, originally from New York (where he briefly published a poetry journal by the name of Entrails back in the '60s) was a staple at Poetry Unplugged on Thursday nights. His raucous poetry will be missed.
_________________
Today's LittleNip:
—Joyce Odam
It is as simple as this:
words will do it—
speak for the unspeakable
—the dark thought
uttered and believed.
Truth is like that—
filtered through the strength
of opinion—given with
great influence of passion.
Oh, my poems…
—Medusa
Fish Tank
—Photo by Joyce Odam
