Let's Take A Journey!

—Poetry by J.D. DeHart, Chattanooga, TN
—Public Domain Photo

THE FIRST SIGN OF EMBARKING

Let’s take a journey.

So, they drove through the night
to strange oceans and dens, past monsters
of present and future, past warnings
and talismans.

All of the fast food places were closed,
so they snacked in the car, listening to the hum
of music from long ago.

They passed political markers
and signs of the times, warnings ahead,
and people holding up cries for help.

These were the days before
a soothing electronic voice, so they
traced the journey by hand, making
marks they hardly knew on a map
they knew even less.

There were sunburns and sharks,
an assembly of photographs, pausing
and posing, lots of candy wrappers.

Small monuments.

She was both giddy and delighted,
rare words in her job of filing documents
and teeth.

At the end, they would remember in pieces,
wondering where the time went, and
if that’s where all of their travels really

began,

revisiting and revisiting again
through shoeboxes of photographs, some
with labels and some devoid of context. 

I WRAP

myself in the magic
of quiet. Why do words find
such fury?

These are voices
that have no faces. I make them
up as I go.

Now, I will silence them for
the moment, a temporary relinquishment
of verbal prerogative.

I will wrap this moment
around myself, my blanket,
throwing off all of the pain

that traces along my heart
like a child coloring inside
and outside the lines.

I will not worry about tomorrow,
even though I often do.

Giving myself a new name,

I wrap myself in metaphor
so I don’t have to tell the truth
in all its blatant forms.

FOUND POEM FROM PEOPLE MAGAZINE (MAY 25, 2020)

After struggling,
First Birthday at Home in Los Angeles,

Families in central Florida
and beyond are getting TP’d.

There’s so many avenues
to success.

Their first Christmas card.

We wanted to
write a road map, a rabbit
named Rue.

I mean, who didn’t watch Tiger King?

She sets out on a righteous
revenge quest to save them, answered
an open casting call, unflinchingly
stares down modern political
and social ills.

satirical romp, vividly absurd,
The Story of Soaps,

Exclude Yourself, Loving
the Way I Am Today,

LOVE LIKE THIS

like two trucks flirting
with disaster,

like the honk of horns,
like pandemic living.

Like a hazy morning where
thoughts are collected
at the kitchen table.

Learning to groom dogs
yourself, and keeping up with the daily
total of cases.

Like slowing your scroll
for a Simon and Garfunkel lyric
that speaks to you now

as it did years ago.

Like making plans to not
plan much.

A REVIEW OF MANY-STORIED HOUSE (IN POETRY)

Thank you, Ms. George Ella Lyon, for another
fine collection. I relish this floor plan of your memories
and dreams.

I love its beams and edges.

In you I find a voice not far-removed from
many of my experiences, a song that sounds much
like the ones I’ve heard for decades, but recast

in your lyrical cadence.

In the miner’s hat, post hole diggers,
junk drawers, river rising,

alongside so many other elements, figments,
recollections, and voices, I find a poetic voice,

titles I will read over and again,
reminding me of who I am.

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost.

—Erol Ozan

______________________

—Medusa, thanking J.D. DeHart for today’s fine poetry!

 George Ella Lyon
For more about George Ella Lyon, go to 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Ella_Lyon

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.

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com.
The snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

Yee-Haw!

Saddle Up, Poets!