—Poems by Marie J. Ross and Donald R. Anderson,
Stockton, CA
—Anonymous Photos
—Anonymous Photos
AUGUST HEAT
The sun walks with sizzling shoes breathing like a demon crow on wings.
Perplexed by the tires melting as they roll, the students tread to classes
in droves, scavenging for spots and spare change to be able to park.
The pathway haunts them, as they react to dissolving shadows over the
heated cement.
Plastic and metal click into binders, chasing pen trails down corridors
each one pestered by stanzas running the other way.
Glasses glaring in the afternoon, the aftershock of light blinds in the
sudden coolness of the neon colored chairs and tables nearby.
August, her warm saturated hand smoothed book covers, zipped
pencil pouches and coffee mugs, until the face of dusk opened.
A curved shadow pattern fractal inches across a t-shirt design,
as graphic designers and word puzzlers earn credentials
in the forges of a smoldering economy.
CHASING STARDUST
Like milky spirits, the nebula swirled in explosive color,
transcendent plumes of stardust lighting up their night sky.
The journey a mysterious path, voiceless except for the whir
whispering like the eternal wind.
Stark in the night a pair of eyes, alluring flame-colored: uncommon cat,
crouched in the grass, it moved with the breeze, closer to their camp.
In the woods the screech of an owl frightened her, as the night moon
echoed its sound.
The night! Yes! The fire glowing, sounds awakened in nature’s drama,
Zeus looking down from aura, storm clouds beckoning them to climb North!
Stars carried sparkle to his throne to his staff, “No!” says Zeus, storm must
abide by my rules, and cause havoc, bring on the lightning not twinkle of stars.
A plot! But the camp plodded onward to the next spot,
clouds chasing them toward the cliffs, she leading with the medallion of light.
Among the forest trees was the tranquil flutter of butterflies, white ones, like
the milky spirits and transcendent plumes that undulated across the moon.
All about were the cocoons of life, and the glow of heaven. Eden’s edge!
She bid them all under the branches, she placed medallion in the gnarly bark,
wherein Pandora’s Box was revealed, and the Scientific Age began.
Like milky spirits, the nebula swirled in explosive color,
transcendent plumes of stardust lighting up their night sky.
The journey a mysterious path, voiceless except for the whir
whispering like the eternal wind.
Stark in the night a pair of eyes, alluring flame-colored: uncommon cat,
crouched in the grass, it moved with the breeze, closer to their camp.
In the woods the screech of an owl frightened her, as the night moon
echoed its sound.
The night! Yes! The fire glowing, sounds awakened in nature’s drama,
Zeus looking down from aura, storm clouds beckoning them to climb North!
Stars carried sparkle to his throne to his staff, “No!” says Zeus, storm must
abide by my rules, and cause havoc, bring on the lightning not twinkle of stars.
A plot! But the camp plodded onward to the next spot,
clouds chasing them toward the cliffs, she leading with the medallion of light.
Among the forest trees was the tranquil flutter of butterflies, white ones, like
the milky spirits and transcendent plumes that undulated across the moon.
All about were the cocoons of life, and the glow of heaven. Eden’s edge!
She bid them all under the branches, she placed medallion in the gnarly bark,
wherein Pandora’s Box was revealed, and the Scientific Age began.
FANTASY BY THE SEA
On the fence of wisdom sat a faun playing a flute of peace.
In his space the realm of stars twinkled in rhythm of nirvana.
To the shore where the beached whale sat playing dice with the young boy,
and fish rolled over like trained dogs.
Animal life was tumultuous steaming and moving in circles,
like a tango dancer in a heated ballroom.
One shoe reaching to the ceiling, the fan rolling in coolness,
yet one could feel a sense of ghost dresses whirling and whirling,
enticing the waves to drift further until the birds saw the whale swimming
under the bridge, leaving the dice on the mossy rocks of his youth,
and Shakespeare's followers joined hands in a foggy waltz of the sea,
where wisdom was wrapped in a felt hat that lay on the granules of knowledge.
On the fence of wisdom sat a faun playing a flute of peace.
In his space the realm of stars twinkled in rhythm of nirvana.
To the shore where the beached whale sat playing dice with the young boy,
and fish rolled over like trained dogs.
Animal life was tumultuous steaming and moving in circles,
like a tango dancer in a heated ballroom.
One shoe reaching to the ceiling, the fan rolling in coolness,
yet one could feel a sense of ghost dresses whirling and whirling,
enticing the waves to drift further until the birds saw the whale swimming
under the bridge, leaving the dice on the mossy rocks of his youth,
and Shakespeare's followers joined hands in a foggy waltz of the sea,
where wisdom was wrapped in a felt hat that lay on the granules of knowledge.
ISLAND FOR MY MIND
—Marie J. Ross (fragment edited for publication by Donald R. Anderson)
She found an island with potential
Where ocean’s eternal motion
Set her footsteps in commune to her soul
Where she bent into the breezes
That wafted from somewhere to nowhere
and heard waves swim against boulders
She sees a sea bird alight
Watches its wings enfold tranquility
Where her mind could be set free
Barefoot she picks up seashells
from sands so slowly moving their forms in cessation blunders
As salty air reminds her that longevity is not fair
She set her mind to song from rolling seaweed ropes
watches them untangle slowly in the movement of the tide
dance together
in the movement of the tide
she watches their dance together
in the midst of the wayward tide
urge of the tide, she watches them tangled together so green
there is music as they fight the surge of tide
rough, she sees them not as beauty
those whispers of rolling
And in her hand she held their voice
the cry of cessation blunders her ears,
the cry of far-off cultures, of far-off places and cultures
empty of ...
she, barefoot on the shore of seashells
where sand uncovered their fragile life
she, the voice to feel their fragile life before her
where no voice...
she saw its wings enfold tranquility
like a spectacular moment of wind...
like the moment of wind...
And breezes wafted somewhere to nowhere
And set her footsteps in commute to her soul
She sees a sea bird alight,
Hears the swim of waves against boulders,
the bird’s virgin wings again in flight
The Tranquility the food for her soul
She steps into her mind with song
A momentous release from her past
Where salty air has no sting
On the lush green paths to realization
She looks to the bluest skies in wonder
Retreats on the shore of seashells
as voices recruit her emotions reclaiming her
Under the sapphire icon of revelation
she gazes upon the bluest of skies
The sapphire icon of revelation
Retreats to seashells, the voices
that lay on the granules of time
She walks on seashells in voices.
She retreats in the resolution of time.
One step at a time.
Sky, the sapphire,
the sapphire stone of heart.
And like the seashells on the shore
The widest path to realization.
And as a sting of salty air touches her past
She feels the sands of time shift as she waits
She kneels on the parcel
Rid of monstrous boulders and raucous waters
On a haven of lush green in dawn’s rising moments
And the granules beneath her feet
Moving her toward sunset’s forwarding tides.
__________________
Our thanks to Donald Anderson for providing us with these poems that he and Marie Ross did in collaboration before she passed away in 2014. Marie J. Ross was widely published and honored. Of her poems, “Oh Honored Stone” is engraved in granite at the All Veterans Memorial Plaza, in Lodi, and “Pink Toe Shoes” placed 3rd in The International Dancing Poetry Contest. She was both President of the Stockton-Lodi branch of NLAPW and Secretary for the NorCal Branch from 2010 to 2013. She passed away 2/20/2014. More about Marie may be seen at www.astarrynightproductions.com/poetryseries/pages/marie_ross_memorial_page.htm/ and
www.astarrynightproductions.com/poetryseries/pages/ross_marie.bio.htm/. The following is a link to Marie’s audio collection of poems she had recorded: mrottosbookstore.com/audio/Marie/.
Donald R. Anderson has been writing poetry since the mid-1990’s. He has been published in many small print publications and online, and self-published in many collaborative paperback anthologies and the “zine”, Poet’s Espresso. He’s working on a novel.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Whitecaps on the bay:
A broken signboard banging
in the April Wind.
—Richard Wright
__________________
—Medusa
__________________
Our thanks to Donald Anderson for providing us with these poems that he and Marie Ross did in collaboration before she passed away in 2014. Marie J. Ross was widely published and honored. Of her poems, “Oh Honored Stone” is engraved in granite at the All Veterans Memorial Plaza, in Lodi, and “Pink Toe Shoes” placed 3rd in The International Dancing Poetry Contest. She was both President of the Stockton-Lodi branch of NLAPW and Secretary for the NorCal Branch from 2010 to 2013. She passed away 2/20/2014. More about Marie may be seen at www.astarrynightproductions.com/poetryseries/pages/marie_ross_memorial_page.htm/ and
www.astarrynightproductions.com/poetryseries/pages/ross_marie.bio.htm/. The following is a link to Marie’s audio collection of poems she had recorded: mrottosbookstore.com/audio/Marie/.
Donald R. Anderson has been writing poetry since the mid-1990’s. He has been published in many small print publications and online, and self-published in many collaborative paperback anthologies and the “zine”, Poet’s Espresso. He’s working on a novel.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Whitecaps on the bay:
A broken signboard banging
in the April Wind.
—Richard Wright
__________________
—Medusa
Celebrate poetry by driving up to Placerville today, 5-7pm,
for Poetry
Off-the-Shelves read-around, El Dorado County
Library, 345 Fair
Lane.Scroll down to the blue column
(under the green column at the
right) for info about these
and other upcoming poetry events in our
area—and note that
more may be added at the last minute.
Photos in this column can be enlarged by clicking on them once,
then click on the X in the top right corner to come back
to Medusa.
