Bowls for Sale
—Photos by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
—Photos by Katy Brown, Davis, CA
DUSK
—Katy Brown
watched the shining silverpearl crescent moon
materialize out of the pale lemon dusk—
watched it swim the sky, calling to the evening star
saw the brighter, diamond star pace the moon
into a lowering violet night
counted the stars as they slowly emerged
the world is new again on such a night as this
—and the night is older than the myths that
tell of such a moon and star—and
the scatter of worlds that materialize
along this shore of time
___________________
COUSINS OF SPRING
—Katy Brown
On this moon-lit night, the inky water
seems more a mangrove swamp
than a hidden river marsh.
Crickets nudge the air with pulsing song.
The luminous path of light across dark water
looks more like the track of a giant snail
than the mythic source of reflected light.
A dozing crane ruffles its feathers and dreams
of hummingbirds, its tiny cousins of spring.
Jug of Flowers on Rock Wall
WHO WILL KEEP THE FIRST WATCH?
—Katy Brown
Dusk—the haunting song
of a pod of murmurous whales
echoing through a swish of waves
washing against the hull—
sometimes we lose one another
even on this two-masted ketch—
hidden by the sails,
setting and unsetting the sheets,
securing the halyards.
We stand still under the moving sun,
the water rushing past us,
toward some uncertain destiny—
the sun sliding along an arc
from edge to edge of the world.
The days and nights pass—
turning on a cosmic hoop
suspended in the heavens.
The boat; the unending water;
you and me on the deck: the only certainty.
We take turns at the tiller, feeling
the water dividing beneath us.
We use an old map and navigate by stars:
the edge of the world—ever impending—
just beyond the twilit horizon.
________________
NAUGHTY EUCALYPTUS—
dropping pointy marbles in the lawn,
shedding brittle limbs near cars and roofs.
Lovely drought-resistant trees
with fragrant oil that lingers
in the mist or gentle rain;
trees that burn like torches when
Thor forks the world with celestial fire.
—Katy Brown
Pink Rose
FOUR CLEVELAND HAIKU
—Michael Ceraolo, South Euclid, Ohio
Cleveland Haiku #517
Crow drops from the sky
to scavenge
on the side of the highway
Cleveland Haiku #518
Low sky—
auto plant's smoke
camouflaged by fog
Cleveland Haiku #520
Wooden windows—
put in place after
a different sort of storm
Cleveland Haiku #522
Drive-in window stays
when the building changes
from bank to coffeehouse
Scar
OUTSIDE, LOOKING IN
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
An idea drifts in for a great story, or a
splendid piece of music, or any of a wide
variety of positive changes. Then the eyes
open, sleep is gone, along with those
wonderful tidbits, leaving only daily chores.
Or is the real world only visible while
sleeping, and those long hours of wakeful-
ness are just some sort of stand-by mode
until we can get back to sleep?
While awake, I can play a couple different
musical instruments well enough to clearly
rise above beginner status, though it still
takes a heavy measure of dreaming to put
me on stage with my favorite performing
artists.
Same goes for poetry and photography: I
know what I like and I strive, basically, to meet
those standards, happy that sometimes other
people like it as well. But no worldly reader,
me, so I’ll never really know if I have added
to the sum total of what is out there.
Oh my, would you look at the time? I’ll start
with two pillows and take it from there.
________________
AGAINST ALL ODDS
—Caschwa
In Hawaii the heat of the swiftly moving
lava flow dominated all manner of existence
for man, beasts, and rocks.
People who could got out of the way, and
others stepped up to help them.
In Guatemala the metaphor applied to tyrants
dominating all manner of human condition.
Again, families who could got out of the way,
but in this instance, when they knocked at the
door of the nation that prides itself for being
the world leader of liberty and justice, the ugly
face of tyranny arose even more strongly to
steal their children and then smite them all like
a dirty bomb in a life preserver.
Generations of time and effort to overcome
our differences and generate sincere goodwill,
gone in an instant!!
Inverted Question
CHATROOM FLUNKY
—Caschwa
Joining an animated discussion panel with
only a valid idea to express is like driving
someone who has an urgent medical need
through a busy intersection that has no
traffic controls.
Others will not willingly share the intersection.
They will flare their lights, blare their horns,
glare their eyes, and brutally accost you as if
it was a medieval chariot race.
The more delicate your concern is, the more
it comes down to the fact that only the most
bombastic loon can effectively get that message
across.
Congress has the same problem, so engrossed
are they with affixing nuclear warheads to
intercontinental ballistic missiles that the core
message of peace at all costs has virtually no
chance to be heard.
__________________
ORDER
—Caschwa
We keep phone and address listings in the usual
alphabetical order by last name, for the most part,
except those female friends and relatives who
somehow manage to change spouses (and last
names) more frequently than fine hotels change
the bedsheets.
And then there are the nomads who come up with
new contact information at a faster pace than
memory can capture. For those, we fill up the index
card on one side, fill up the obverse side, get more
index cards in on the parade, ad infinitum.
California, of all places, doesn’t help matters much,
enlarging the original count of 3 area codes for the
entire state to a temporary plateau of 32 codes, with
many more sure to be on the way.
Inventors, bless their hearts, gave us speed dial so
we don’t have to worry so much about looking up the
new and improved correct, 10-digit number each
time we place a call.
What does the future hold? If and when we colonize
our moon and some planets, our offspring may be
confronted with juggling several 20-digit phone numbers,
just to order a pizza.
_________________
Today’s LittleNip:
MAY 16, 2018, DAVIS
—Katy Brown
crack and roll of spring thunder
promise of rain among the lavender
the urgent call of songbirds
calling each other home
_________________
Our thanks to today’s contributors for starting this week off right with their fine poetry and with Katy Brown’s beautiful photos! Poetry readings in our area begin tonight at the Sacramento Poetry Center, 7:30pm, with Claudia and John Savage, plus open mic. On Thursday, Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento presents featured poets and open mic, 8pm.
On Friday at 6pm at Sac. Poetry Center, there will be a Tribute Reading for poet James Humphrey by readers Norma and Saroyan Humphrey. Then at 7pm, Speak Up presents poets and storytellers on the theme of Taking Stock at The Avid Reader on Broadway in Sacramento. And Saturday at Sac. Poetry Center, there will be a closing reception for Straight Out Scribes’ Legacy art showing, 6:30pm.
Then on Sunday, July 1, there will be a Memorial Tribute at Sac. Poetry Center, 2pm, for Sacramento Poet Patricia Lee Nichol. Pat passed away in May: read about her at www.legacy.com/obituaries/sacbee/obituary.aspx?n=patricia-lee-nichol&pid=189299738, and sign the “guest book” at www.legacy.com/guestbooks/sacbee/patricia-lee-nichol-condolences/189299738/.
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.
For a review of Poet Donald Hall’s new essay collection on the “indignities of old age” and poets he has known, go to www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/books/is-it-possible-to-age-gracefully-insights-from-a-poet-on-the-cusp-of-90/2018/06/18/9e7c696a-680f-11e8-bea7-c8eb28bc52b1_story.html?utm_term=.9e7a5ac86fab/. The review also appeared in yesterday’s Sacramento Bee.
—Medusa
Sweet Foot
—Photo by Katy Brown
Celebrate poetry!
Celebrate poetry!
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