Tomorrow We Will Find The Moon

Beyond the Word

—Poetry and Original Art by Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

FOX, GOING EXTINCT
After The Fox’s Curiosity by Ellen Jewell

Looking for the words,
shy in the eyes of fox—
enclosed in a nettle of wire

in the elaboration of art.
Bronze now,
held firm for the eternity

of its look—
held sad and absolute.
Curious about

the poem it will be—Fox,
posed slender and tame
to exhibit the

illumination of its life—
out of time and condition.
One would swear its eyes

were blue, for its misery,
tamed now for the sweet
adulation of those

who love Fox—so entangled
in its fury of obedience
—the theft of its liberty.    

 Distancing

IMPORTANCE

the song of the keys
as he walks
swinging away from his body
clanking against him
many-toned
rhythmic to his
powerful unlockings

___________________

TITILLATION
After “Bondage” by Tamara de Lempicka)

Detective-Mags : Shackled woman
arching in exaggerated agony,
begging release.

Chains of love :
How dated.
Bondage as pseudo,Mnym.

How long can she stay beautiful,
chained to an old helpless pose—
how can she scratch her nose?

 The Truth And All

THE POWER
(After The Desire and the Satisfaction,
1893, Jan Theodore Toorop)

Their gold faces speak of desire
and satisfaction—
such has their love been taken.

Their eyes burn with after-
thoughts. Hers turn away
from his haunted stare.

Gold bells weep into dying sound
along the surrounding wall;
gold leaves fall from the sky—

for it is imperial here
with wealth and power—
except over love.

 The Fireworks

LOOKING FOR THE MOON

How the moon
in a worry of sky
is kept bound by the tree
that keeps hiding it in its branches . . .

         ~

How the moon, in spite of this
hides from the tree—
cold and far
in a freedom of sky . . .

        ~

And how the tree lets it go
when we pass it by, leaving
these thoughts to wander upward
toward that unreachable surface . . .

        ~

Tomorrow we will find the moon,
in one of its places in the sky—
fully round—the cold, chiseled moon,
phrased lightly with scar-like detail . . . .

 Oh Say Can You

THE SAD WINDOW

Turning to my small window, I see the view :
a boring wall for me—a scrap of sky for you.
From what bleak difference now do we stare—

I at shadow creeping over brick—
you at night that comes down thick.
What do we care, Love, what do we care?

Wall is for safety—sky is for roam;
you at your distance—I at home
with brick and shadow.  I don’t cry.

In this division, why compare :
you in your nowhere—everywhere—
only one of us now, tending this goodbye.

 Safe Journey

STALEMATE

we are not friends
we are not
lovers now

we are
a cage

we lock each other
we threaten
freedom

                  

(prev. pub. in Prophetic Voices, 1992)

 Of Wishing

MIND-POWER

You are that maze
I never get through.

How did you
make yourself so clever,
without an exit?

How did I
get in?


(prev. pub. in Parting Gifts, 1996)

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

THE WAY OF LOVE
After Rumi

The way of love
is not a subtle argument.

The door there is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.

How do they learn it?

They fall, and in falling,
are given wings.

_____________________

Thank you, Joyce Odam, for today’s poetry and artwork, with its talk of love and power and liberty (our Seed of the Week)! For more about Artist Tamara de Lempicka, see www.delempicka.org/bottom/home.html/.

Our new Seed of the Week is "Creekside". Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from.

_____________________

—Medusa

 “sad and absolute”
—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.

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