Milky Way
—Poems by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Anonymous Photos
VACATION IN PARADISE
(thanks, Maria Rosales)
Tonight
on patio deck
binoculars tilted high
no man-made light
intruding, we three
viewers marvel
how the Milky Way
galaxy tinsels
a long mild curve
over luminous
darkness, the earth
a lively spark.
Big Sur Stars
DOUBLE MOON, CLEAR NIGHT
(Blank Verse)
"An old moon nestles in a young moon's arms."
Did Omar Khayyam in caravansary
view the melded two as cosmic chance?
Jane Kenyon saw the young-old moons
as moons not wanting otherwise
& called on Donald Hall to share the sight?
The crescent fully rounded reaps reflection?
Appears when rain brings purest stratosphere
or air around the new moon stays more still?
Lovers, if we're offered such mellow
coupling, let's not wonder now and why
but from a hilltop open to the sky.
Night Sky Over California Forest
ENCOUNTER GROUP
(Berkeley, 1970s)
Suddenly in Group Therapy
our Prince of Silence
pounds his overstuffed chair.
Dust spiraling like smoke
coats windows,
clouds the air. His chains
bang on the hardwood floor.
Wallpaper poppies wither.
Our fields of hope, tilled
for calm revelation, sour.
Mister Silent keeps raging...
Finally he unclenches, breaks
shackles, wrenches out his story.
We listen
our own anguish
given words.
Chasm after chasm, we leap
with him and beyond him.
As the hour ends, poppies bloom
around his Army boots, nudge
the walls, root as color
in our fallow ground.
Night Sky Over Donner Lake
RECLINER #5
(for Judy & gang)
Sheltering in place, away
from wine-country fires
the noxious smoky-white sky,
I read Patchett's story of
a Sister of Mercy who takes
an apartment alone
first time on her own.
Smoke-tainted,
worried for friends, I doze
Awaken to an eerie silence
beside my large bare window
the sky white as whites
of the Holy Mother's eyes.
THE LAST ROW
For the first time
I join a church, write my name
in a large leather book
near sanctuary entrance.
Always I sit in the last row
on the extreme right side
near the plain windows
to daydream over the hills
the Bay,
the blue city beyond
this pew choosing me as
I have chosen it.
My body's heat warms the wood,
my hand faintly shadows rack
as I reach for hymnal...
I listen, watch, weigh all I hear.
Wavering,
I ask the far flowers:
Am I worthy? Am I opening?
Altar flowers shine colors
on my life.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SPIN-OFF
—Claire J. Baker
The only angel
I ever saw
was really TINY
& nursed sore feet
from dancing so long
on the tip of a pin
which somehow
remained upright
through the whole
performance.
___________________
Many thanks to Claire Baker for her beautiful poems today! Read about Claire’s 90th birthday party (in Paradise!) at www.paradisepost.com/general-news/20171006/renowned-bay-area-poet-celebrates-90th-birthday-with-a-poetry-reading-in-paradisexa0/.
Don’t forget that the Poetry Off-the-Shelves poetry read-around will meet in Placerville tonight from 5-7pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
Sacramento poet/editor Laverne Frith has a new review of Charles Bukowski’s Storms for the Living and the Dead: Uncollected and Unpublished Poems at New York Journal of Books: www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book-review/storm-living/.
And here are “48 Colossally Beautiful Places That Make You Realize That Paradise Truly Lies On Earth”: www.emlii.com/9f3f0918/48-Colossally-Beautiful-Places-That-Make-You-Realize-That-Paradise-Truly-Lies-On-Earth/.
—Medusa
Celebrate poetry—and the poetry of paradise on earth!
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