—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento, CA
just a bunch of violets
made from words and love
still too early to find them growing
tender purple petals in
a nest of dark green leaves
humble and wild
stems taste sweet
shy, shocking, heralds of spring
dirt where I play
in Summer's heat
in Winter's remorse
dirt collects under nails
toes free from clean
roam with insects
fly with birds
all grow where planted
all share abundances
all labor rewarded
all returns return
Where my father stands
In front of a tool shed
That looks like a tiny house
And he is gigantic
As fathers are to their little girls.
His pose, serious on this Sunday
Ready to pick tomatoes
It must be August
The old black and white
Does not divulge the season
Yet feelings communicate
To the camera
Through the photographer
Caught in time on paper.
With ubiquitous flare
Under a silver moon
Umbrella plants whirl
Their delicate leaves.
Unctuous and ingratiating
They uncurl then recoil
Underscoring an unconscionable
Underbelly, so wooly and white.
Not to be underhanded
They undulate, wasted by undue
Dances of uniformity.
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
1) Take a few dice-size blank cubes
2) On each face of each cube print one weather word,
such as Clear, Dry, Rain, Fog, Cloudy
4) Have a chimpanzee shake the cup
5) Let the chimp spill the cubes from the cup onto a
6) Populate the weather forecast for each day using
whatever weather words are facing up
(Response to “Domestic Mysticism”
by Lucie Brock-Broido, Medusa’s
Kitchen, January 27, 2019)
Unleash the Kingdom of Arbitrary
Conventions and virtually everything
we sense is some excerpt of fiction
from a storybook, whether the behavior
of alley cats or the location and rotation
of the planets.
As storybooks go, an ordinary piece of
granite stone could describe itself much
the same as a stunningly beautiful, rare
diamond. If we could only run a DNA
test on both materials, it would surely
show some distinct family connection.
So are we humans the brilliant idea of
some higher power? Or was that higher
power itself our own poem, troubled into
its making? For an answer, just ask that
granite stone and be very, very patient.
Rocks don’t think fast.
(following Joyce Odam’s
“Thinking of the Sea”, Medusa’s
Kitchen, Jan. 15, 2019)
What if earth, sea, and sky are
all really one element in its
different forms, such as ice,
water, and vapor?
Maybe our entire universe is just
one little part of a much larger
construction of similar parts…
On a much smaller scale, consider
how often the family of businesses in
a shopping center will include a dental
office conveniently close to a donut
It is not so bad, though, to be
marooned on Earth, with so many
consumable feasts to tickle our
fancy. Ice cream, hot tea, snow cones,
all part of the same family.
CLONING GONE WRONG
As we live and learn it has become
more and more obvious that ants
are more like people than we may
care to admit:
Ants totally ignore any and all rules
of grammar, punctuation, and
spelling, with no apologies
Ants retreat from foul weather to
the cozy confines of our abodes
Ants take out the trash, one little
speck at a time, don’t rush me
Ants form trails that fastidiously
maneuver around barriers, much
like some humans who artfully
salvage the usable portions of
Nowhere will you find farmers who
are harder working or lower paid
Their ranks include unsung heroes
who sacrifice their very all for the
benefit of the colony
It takes only one to spoil all those
elaborate preparations for a perfect
COLORS FOR LIFE’S STAGES
—Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
On the loose!
Catch that wilding color
Before it leaves
We all need
Just a stage
On the way
We all feel
But maroon is
So less painful
So tell me,
Than to be,
Black and blue?
DRAGOON GULCH TRAIL, SONORA
Dragoon Gulch Trail
In the summer.
In the long view
From the top.
I look to see
The things I know
In all the beauty.
I thank my
For carrying me,
To my perch
I’m spending some time in my body!
I’m putting the world on the shelf.
I’m devoting a quiet hour
To relaxing, renewing myself.
It won’t hurt to be guided along
Deeply, in deep relaxation,
After I’m all stretched out on the floor,
Comfortable and warm.
If, when I am done,
And it’s time to go back home,
I’m floating, instead of walking,
I’ll know I had a good OM!
LIFE, SO SHORT!
Will strike you
As the nights
Thanks to our contributors today, our photographers and poets, some of whom have worked with recent Seeds of the Week, and some of whom are thinking of spring and their awakening gardens!
Poetry events in our area begin tonight with Poetry in Motion in Placerville at the Sr. Center, 6-7pm; then you can drive down to Sac. Poetry Center to share the release of Josh McKinney’s new book (he says “with accomplices”) plus open mic., 7:30pm. On Wednesday, also at SPC but two doors down in the Women’s Wisdom Room, MarieWriters Generative Writing Workshop will meet at 6pm, facilitated this week by Patricia Wentzel. And Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe meets on Thursday at 8pm with featured readers and open mic, 1414 16th St., Sac.
Back in Placerville on Friday: this time at the Good Earth Movement on Main St., Ladies of the Knight will be featured from 6:30-8pm. And on Saturday in Elk Grove, Word Candy presents a number of poets at the KAST Academy on Grant Line Road, 9-11:30pm. 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.
—Medusa (Celebrate Poetry!)
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.