Thursday, May 14, 2020

Angels At The Tea House

—Poems by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Public Domain Photos

(Golden Gate Park, SF)
Lightning and rain
illuminate a huge Buddha
in tea garden park.

His stony lips curl
into a half smile—
wet Buddha urging

leave your hot tea,
cross the arched bridge,
sip some raindrops.


Yes, there is paradise
yet not always
on a tropical isle.

Peeks into paradise may bring
luminous circles we twirl
on our fingertips—
tiny hula hoops which light
our portion of the sky—
world, we’re still here!

In the Sierras
alpine meadows spark
the freshest wildflowers.
We rest before reaching
a peak,
the view spectacular

for two hundred years, or
for the most fulfilling
deep breaths of our lives!


I marvel at women
who back- or frontpack
older children
like a treasury of books
crucial for survival.

When asked
about tiredness,
these moms reply:
My child heavy?
No, light as the sky.

(Berkeley hills)

A full moon, low
over California hills
cosmic years beyond
its full circle
as we acknowledge
that our lives, too,
wax and wane
from darkness
to light.


Avid seekers of positive change
making the ocean’s center
their home, stay in flux
for the rousing ride.
Others, tossed onto alien shores,
finally gain footing; light
driftwood fires each night
to flag passing ships.

At times we storm:
life is too short, too long,
too blankety-blank hard—
a ball and chain, a drag!
Finally, we may realize
we’re mere droplets
in     the     ocean:
It’s the OCEAN that matters.


While walking in green hills
I pause in a meadow,
gaze upward:
your aura dazzles
in lit edges of a cloud.

When I whisper hellos
from a temple of stars
and my greeting echos,
again I believe
you are near.

Will you appear when
I read my open-mic poem,
want a copy, expressing you
write poems, are drawn
to caesuras, extended metaphors,
messages between the lines?

I sense within your
presence a vigorous vow,
a sensitivity to timing.
You are vital to my life.
I await your coming.

 —Photo by Katy Brown, Davis, CA

ANGELS . . .

Humming lullabies, nudging shoulders,
angels bring nifty news: carry fragrances
of coffee, freshly-baked bread,
alfalfa fields, vanilla, autumn woods.
When speechless at love’s portal,
an angel whispers what to say.

The tough-footed dance on tips of pins;
three can pass together
through the eye of a needle.

But purest angels prefer pillows,
sunfilled clouds, whipped cream,
a pet’s underfur.

As geniuses of timeliness, angels
know when to keep watch: when climbing
a snowy mountain, a friend and I sensed
a warning! We changed directions, averted
falling far into a lake . . . Have you a
prescient memory, an angel of your own?

Our helpmates—they decry that word—stay
as vital as breathing, incorruptible
as newly-filtered carrot juice, hardier
than heartbeats of hope; as marvelous
as birth and rebirth; instantaneous
like intuition!

 —Photo by Katy Brown


. . . The last stanza of “Danny Boy”
. . . the Feng Shui of your smile
. . . photos that can hitchhike
. . . a clean empty jar for stardust
. . . a piggy bank of pennies
. . . a gritty pair of jeans
. . . a t-shirt depicting Edna Millay
. . . a “No More to Prove” sports bra
. . . a painted tambourine
. . . an extra pair of wings
       (in case I’m sent back).


Today’s LittleNip:

—Claire J. Baker

          (for Maria Rosales)

The Milky Way galaxy
spills across the sky

though we dwell within
that luminosity
on a spark called Earth.


Our thanks to this angel of a poet, Claire Baker, for sending us her lovely work for today’s post, and to Katy Brown and Joseph Nolan for adding to the day!

Our beloved Luna's Cafe in Sacramento, a long-time home of Poetry Unplugged, was broken into this week, with damage to it such as broken windows. Poet/writer Josh Fernandez set up a GoFundMe page for donations to offset Art Luna's expenses; go to to donate. Our sympathies, Art! GRRRR!

For upcoming poetry readings and workshops available online while we stay at home, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.


 —Public Domain Photo

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.