Thursday, March 19, 2020

The Lies of Monkeys

The Lies of Monkeys (and Others) by Smith—
Plus a Bonus by Michael H. Brownstein, 
Celebrating the Vernal Equinox!

—Poems and Visuals by Smith, Cleveland, OH


Rising before dawn
kissing wife
petting cat
first toke
first cup of coffee
staring out the window
at the dark
where the birds sing
for future light and present seed
need not yet snuffling at the door

 God's Eye


Scraping ice off car so Lady can go to work,
I knock off what looked like
small rectangular piece black plastic.

Couldn't figure out what it was
so put in pocket for later.

Upstairs I reach for broken bit
and it's gone,
and inner pocket wet and squishy.

The good news—it ain't car plastic.

Bad news?
It was frozen bird poop
which thawed and slimed my cloth wallet.

At least it's laundry, not car repair.

 Good Dog


Plant eats sun
meat eats plant

Monkeys lie about bananas

eventually everything dies
is eaten by earth

And monkeys lie about bananas

Fruit or flour, pie or cake
if you don't know, you must yes

Because monkeys lie about bananas



From winding river’s run
she comes discrete
completes her Tarot mutant in desire

I can’t play nearly normal
she cries from shadow
rippleless in time and obsession

Self seek solution
ancient in execution and repair

 I See You


Sitting in dappled sun and shade
breeze and blossom
watching river run round bend
knowing it's going
but gone unknown

Moment of joy in soup of sorrow

Squeaky axle
squealing down road
highway hell going home

We shape the dead to shoulder living

Less peer pressure
than pure profit

Is this real, or happy ever after land?

 There Is A War


My psychotropic trauma began before my Mama
cloned in chromosome the she in me.

Back before my Poppa anted up in oughta
spared my need with better seed of he.

Genes for seeking others
genes for tricking brothers
flow from seed to breed to heed or flee.

Being nice or naughty isn’t all about me
but a creed to be properly unscrambled
programmed reassembled leaving bleeding weed
on bead of thee.

To rise above my wiring I try to tame desiring
willfully by letting Eden be.

Original sin Ma may be to our current crazy
more than lately hazy leads from sea to troubled see.

So seize ya on the downsize hope you see in upside
the making of our maybe lies in we.

 Mote In God's Eye


Can't count on reason
Can't count on intention
Can't count on destination
Can't count on accumulation
Can't count on actualization
So it's the living
The life along the way
Friends, family, feline
That makes or breaks
The bank

 Spider Waiting


I swim the past,
add my tears

Court the future
with reason and ritual

But now is now, always,
does not listen

Rock is rock, mountain mountain,
near top or bottom no matter

It's said time tumbles in cycles,
or runs down forever

That we're accident, or purpose,
or chance in design

Or side bet forfeit, forgotten,
inside fool dream reside

What's clear lies in shadow,
in perceptual collapse

And lie, or knot,
it's not forgot

We sleep for tomorrow,
pay today's rent

 Opaque Shape

Today’s LittleNip:


Old uneasy cockroach coexistence                       
Exilic, yet extant
Contingencies of space and time

 Light Lanes


Many thanks to Smith (Steven B. Smith) for his playful poetry—as always, full of rocking rhymes and other mischievous musings… !

I've received no word about whether Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe & Juice Bar has been cancelled tonight; you might call Luna's and see (916-441-3931).

And welcome to the Vernal Equinox! Michael Brownstein sent the following poems to celebrate—so here is our bonus half-post for you while you're stuck at home due to COVID-19, with thanks to Michael!


—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO

All winter the lilies broke through earth,
an easy winter,
splashes of snow now and then,
a few mosaics of frost,
houseflies did not know to die,
ground hogs did not know to hibernate,
everywhere great bald eagles over the Missouri,
the early caw of crows,
a grand scheme of geese,
ponds did not freeze,
and today a worm surfaced,
a robin dropped from a tree
and the wonder of life began its renovations.


("New day": Northern Hemisphere's Vernal Equinox)
—Michael H. Brownstein

the first day of springshine,
the mirrors polished
rose water as centerpiece,
decorated eggs,
purple hyacinths,
living greens,
lit candles,
honey-soaked baklava—

Smile into the mirror,
Smell the water of roses,
fresh air.
Painted eggs,
Purple flowers,
Living plants,
Candles aflame,
Homemade sweets,

day conquers night,
soon seas of blossoms,
good friends and family,
wonder and awe,
one hand in another’s,
the sustainability of life.


Today’s Bonus LittleNip:

—Michael H. Brownstein

I went out without a coat
into the warm bath of wind,
a small white butterfly,
a smaller blossom opening—
everything springing into sun.


—Medusa, and thanks again to Steven and Michael! Nowrus is the new year in much of the Middle East, and it coincides with the first day of Spring. More about that on Sunday.

 —Photo Courtesy of Public Domain

Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.