"Lost Coast", Humboldt, CA
—Photo by Jane Blue, Sacramento
—Cynthia Linville, Sacramento
He is a kind of pain
that has no cure.
He always enters a room
in a flurry of white feathers.
He inevitably marks
those who cross his path.
Even after he’s gone
he casts a long shadow.
_________________
DANGER!
—Cynthia Linville
She’s a three-alarm fire
a flashing red light
an air raid siren
howling in the night.
She is hackles going up
a low growl –
better lock the doors
when she’s on the prowl.
The Feathered Poets Society
—Photo by Caschwa
THE FEATHERED POETS SOCIETY
Gathers at the pond
To share their views
Of rhythm and flow
With sunken feet
Punctuating every line
But they somehow know
More than is uttered
And together they swim,
Dive, fly, and pause
To appreciate their reflections
Or to nurture themselves
On another’s poetry
Gathers at the pond
To share their views
Of rhythm and flow
With sunken feet
Punctuating every line
But they somehow know
More than is uttered
And together they swim,
Dive, fly, and pause
To appreciate their reflections
Or to nurture themselves
On another’s poetry
—Caschwa, Sacramento
Pillars
—Photo by Caschwa
PILLARS
—Caschwa
All the pond is a stage
And all the waterfowl
Are merely players
When diving into
The study of
Greek architecture
One is immediately
Surrounded by
Pillars, columns, colonnades
Adding seemingly great
Depth of purpose
To a shallow pond
All the pond is a stage
And all the waterfowl
Are merely players
When diving into
The study of
Greek architecture
One is immediately
Surrounded by
Pillars, columns, colonnades
Adding seemingly great
Depth of purpose
To a shallow pond
Almost the Same
—Photo by Caschwa
ALMOST THE SAME
—Caschwa
Honey, get the flashlight
Yes I know it’s the middle
Of the day, bright outside
But there are a couple of
Points that are evading
My grasp, as if hiding in
Dark shadows, too feeble
To break out and declare
The message they have
Been trusted to carry
Too low in the pecking order
To have any voice at all…
—Caschwa
Honey, get the flashlight
Yes I know it’s the middle
Of the day, bright outside
But there are a couple of
Points that are evading
My grasp, as if hiding in
Dark shadows, too feeble
To break out and declare
The message they have
Been trusted to carry
Too low in the pecking order
To have any voice at all…
Wanderings
—Photo by Caschwa
WANDERINGS
—Caschwa
No formal shape
No analogy
No plan
Just a driving intention
To gaze upon what is out there
And admire it
As the creation of
A higher power
Whose infinite wisdom
Confounds common sense
Beauty beyond logic
Perfection beyond human
A celestial snow globe
Toy of the Gods
We can’t shake it
—Caschwa
No formal shape
No analogy
No plan
Just a driving intention
To gaze upon what is out there
And admire it
As the creation of
A higher power
Whose infinite wisdom
Confounds common sense
Beauty beyond logic
Perfection beyond human
A celestial snow globe
Toy of the Gods
We can’t shake it
______________________
Our thanks to today's contributors: Jane Blue was quite taken with John Swain's poetry yesterday, so she sent us these photos of Humboldt County, saying that's our version of the Lost Coast. Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) is trying out his new camera: Bravo, Carl! And Cynthia Linville has photos of Santa Cruz on Medusa's Facebook page's new album, "Beachin' with Cynthia Linville". Check it out!
Tonight Poetry Unplugged helps Art Luna celebrate 30 years of Luna's Cafe! Wow! Check that out, too: 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Host: Geoffrey O'Neill.
______________________
Today's LittleNip:
—Cynthia Linville
Dampen down the lovey-dovey
with a little pain
a little blame
a little yuck
a little what the fuck!
______________________
—Medusa
Humboldt County
—Photo by Jane Blue
