—Poetry by Joseph Nolan, Michelle Kunert,
Caschwa, Michael Ceraolo
—Public Domain Photos by Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
ANGST UNTO DISAPPEARANCE
—Joseph Nolan
It seems someone
Has turbo-charged
My years of dissipation.
Old wrappers
Have turned brown.
Thankfully,
I still hear the sounds
Ringing from the belfry.
Mere atoms,
Such as we,
Alone against
Eternity,
Face our lives
As bravely as we can,
Knowing we all disappear,
This week, this month,
Next year,
Or surely, some year
Soon, thereafter.
Yet we shout,
Not unto the rafters,
But silently,
Against our angst, unclear.
Unclear, as though through
Dirty mirror,
Fog or mist-bound moon,
Fearing that our
Disappearance
Will come on us too soon!
—Joseph Nolan
It seems someone
Has turbo-charged
My years of dissipation.
Old wrappers
Have turned brown.
Thankfully,
I still hear the sounds
Ringing from the belfry.
Mere atoms,
Such as we,
Alone against
Eternity,
Face our lives
As bravely as we can,
Knowing we all disappear,
This week, this month,
Next year,
Or surely, some year
Soon, thereafter.
Yet we shout,
Not unto the rafters,
But silently,
Against our angst, unclear.
Unclear, as though through
Dirty mirror,
Fog or mist-bound moon,
Fearing that our
Disappearance
Will come on us too soon!
PAIN AS A CONSTANT COMPANION
—Joseph Nolan
The man with pain in his legs
Doesn’t look up.
The woman with pain in her neck
Doesn’t look down.
Pain changes
The way
We walk
In the world
And tends us
To wearing a frown.
Pain as a constant companion
Pain as a personal demon
It keeps us up late
And changes our fate
And turns our worlds
Upside down!
—Joseph Nolan
The man with pain in his legs
Doesn’t look up.
The woman with pain in her neck
Doesn’t look down.
Pain changes
The way
We walk
In the world
And tends us
To wearing a frown.
Pain as a constant companion
Pain as a personal demon
It keeps us up late
And changes our fate
And turns our worlds
Upside down!
EARNING THE TRUST OF WHALES
—Joseph Nolan
If the oceans
Could be washed-through
By a rinse-bath of empathy,
Through and through again,
Held up and strained
Of all marauding and pain,
The centuries of hunting,
The blood in the seas,
That have taken the whales
Down to near-nothing,
And we let them be free
And did not deal them
Misery, constantly;
They might learn to forgive us
And the songs they sang to each other
Would not be songs of warning:
“Beware the approaching humans,
Whose hunger never ends,
Approaching on the surface,
Once again!"
SURVIVAL
—Joseph Nolan
You may survive this life,
You my go on in some way, somewhere,
But your thoughts of yourself,
Your self-image,
May disappear,
Especially if you didn’t quite get it,
Or did not get it all,
All-together.
There are no
Mirrors in outer-space,
No way to tell for sure
If your nose
Is too big for your gums,
All at once.
You have to feel about in the dark
One thing at a time,
Compare them in depth
In the dim, distant twinkling
Of tiny stars
So far away
They hardly matter.
Sometimes a rope
Is a snake,
Sometimes a garden-hose
And sometimes it’s just a rope.
Any one of these might disappear
In the light of a different lamp.
—Joseph Nolan
You may survive this life,
You my go on in some way, somewhere,
But your thoughts of yourself,
Your self-image,
May disappear,
Especially if you didn’t quite get it,
Or did not get it all,
All-together.
There are no
Mirrors in outer-space,
No way to tell for sure
If your nose
Is too big for your gums,
All at once.
You have to feel about in the dark
One thing at a time,
Compare them in depth
In the dim, distant twinkling
Of tiny stars
So far away
They hardly matter.
Sometimes a rope
Is a snake,
Sometimes a garden-hose
And sometimes it’s just a rope.
Any one of these might disappear
In the light of a different lamp.
I saw the movie, Clouds, on Disney Plus streaming network
It’s based on the supposed-true story
but the subject plot of it doesn’t give any answer as
to why a good God would allow a musically talented teenager to die of cancer
It tells the story of a dying high schooler named Zach who has two girlfriends
but as an adult watching this teen movie
I’m concluding the girl he writes his songs with is the “right one"
His girlfriend, Sammy, even performs with Zach to become a You-Tube hit
and even helps him get the million-dollar recording contract
Zach declares he doesn't waste the time he has left on earth
But he essentially does with Amy, a dancer,
whom he hardly knows, other than he likes watching her on stage
Zach's mother doesn’t even try to talk sense to him about this philandering with another girl
giving in to, rather than getting involved in, correcting his immature notions here
It’s kind of “icky”, though, that Sammy sings a song for him onstage at his "cancer fundraiser”
while Zach meets up with Amy backstage and they intimately dance together
However I think this is about a messed-up affair, whether Zach is dying or not
and the movie disappoints me that, in the end, it doesn’t even tell which girl is by his side when he passes away
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
It’s based on the supposed-true story
but the subject plot of it doesn’t give any answer as
to why a good God would allow a musically talented teenager to die of cancer
It tells the story of a dying high schooler named Zach who has two girlfriends
but as an adult watching this teen movie
I’m concluding the girl he writes his songs with is the “right one"
His girlfriend, Sammy, even performs with Zach to become a You-Tube hit
and even helps him get the million-dollar recording contract
Zach declares he doesn't waste the time he has left on earth
But he essentially does with Amy, a dancer,
whom he hardly knows, other than he likes watching her on stage
Zach's mother doesn’t even try to talk sense to him about this philandering with another girl
giving in to, rather than getting involved in, correcting his immature notions here
It’s kind of “icky”, though, that Sammy sings a song for him onstage at his "cancer fundraiser”
while Zach meets up with Amy backstage and they intimately dance together
However I think this is about a messed-up affair, whether Zach is dying or not
and the movie disappoints me that, in the end, it doesn’t even tell which girl is by his side when he passes away
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
Andre the Giant's hand while holding a regular-sized
can of beer
BEER
—Michelle Kunert
What's this hype about alcoholic beverages,
especially ones that taste like piss and make people sick?
Well the last time I tasted what a beer ought to be like
was ginger-flavored kombucha
But its brand was pulled off the marketplace
Our government apparently hates "raw and live enzyme" foods
claiming fears of "contamination"
despite that no one has died from drinking the fermented tea
Hard to believe historically the first "beers" were healthy
claiming fears of "contamination"
despite that no one has died from drinking the fermented tea
Hard to believe historically the first "beers" were healthy
Beer, once the beverage of the pyramid builders,
is now associated with do-nothing drunkards
who then cause deadly car crashes
who then cause deadly car crashes
WAR OVER GAZA
—Michelle Kunert
Declared descendents of Issac and Ishmael
still war over their lands today
Both claiming to be "chosen people"
Yet both reject the promised Messiah
who had taught them both
"Chosen" are those who choose Him
And choose to serve the Lord in love
Loving neighbors as well as enemies
As in the parable of a Good Samaritan
Upholding beyond men's golden rule
For blessed are the peacemakers
and fishers of people for His kingdom
MAYBE THIS, MAYBE THAT
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
maybe it was that time as a toddler when a brick hit my head, and it took several stitches to close the wound, and I simply can’t recall how or why that happened
maybe it was in my formative years when I first encountered my mom’s eldest sister, forty-some years my senior, and from that day forward she always presented as an elderly lady
maybe it was when we buried my mom, and the people we hired to conduct the service didn’t show up, so I read from the booklet as best I could, like it had been at my Bar Mitzvah, sounding out some Hebrew words without the recognition factor of someone actually fluent in that language
maybe the praise I received from my elementary school teacher for quickly and easily folding a sheet of paper into five equal parts, misled me to believe that I had higher powers within me, waiting only for me to hear just the right invitation to display them
maybe that extensive trip along the Redwood Highway I took with my family was truly worth it because I was able to return with a “Round Tuit”, now proudly hung on my wall, ensuring me that this moment is definitely the right time to embark on any endeavor
maybe I was a bit too hasty concluding that San Diego Mayor Pete Wilson’s fine law and order record in that city made him a good fit for the office of Governor
maybe when we are confronted with hacking, or UFO’s, or candidates who suddenly and without stated reason, reverse their stand on a crucial issue, the explanation is usually Russia, and people who seek to gather more details disappear in unusual ways
maybe when a police incident report cites three witness interviews that concur to pin blame on one individual, that sampling is not necessarily consistent with the testimony of the majority of persons interviewed
maybe that stretch limo with the heavily tinted windows is carrying a celebrity you’d love to meet, or …..?
maybe the former efforts to rid the streets of “dope” and “junk” so adversely affected a revenue stream to the powers that be, that a decision was made to modify those efforts in favor of issuing press releases that publish the “street value” of illicit drugs in a form to closely resemble an attractive lottery jackpot figure, for the very purpose of exciting the market value for sale and delivery of those illicit drugs
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
maybe it was that time as a toddler when a brick hit my head, and it took several stitches to close the wound, and I simply can’t recall how or why that happened
maybe it was in my formative years when I first encountered my mom’s eldest sister, forty-some years my senior, and from that day forward she always presented as an elderly lady
maybe it was when we buried my mom, and the people we hired to conduct the service didn’t show up, so I read from the booklet as best I could, like it had been at my Bar Mitzvah, sounding out some Hebrew words without the recognition factor of someone actually fluent in that language
maybe the praise I received from my elementary school teacher for quickly and easily folding a sheet of paper into five equal parts, misled me to believe that I had higher powers within me, waiting only for me to hear just the right invitation to display them
maybe that extensive trip along the Redwood Highway I took with my family was truly worth it because I was able to return with a “Round Tuit”, now proudly hung on my wall, ensuring me that this moment is definitely the right time to embark on any endeavor
maybe I was a bit too hasty concluding that San Diego Mayor Pete Wilson’s fine law and order record in that city made him a good fit for the office of Governor
maybe when we are confronted with hacking, or UFO’s, or candidates who suddenly and without stated reason, reverse their stand on a crucial issue, the explanation is usually Russia, and people who seek to gather more details disappear in unusual ways
maybe when a police incident report cites three witness interviews that concur to pin blame on one individual, that sampling is not necessarily consistent with the testimony of the majority of persons interviewed
maybe that stretch limo with the heavily tinted windows is carrying a celebrity you’d love to meet, or …..?
maybe the former efforts to rid the streets of “dope” and “junk” so adversely affected a revenue stream to the powers that be, that a decision was made to modify those efforts in favor of issuing press releases that publish the “street value” of illicit drugs in a form to closely resemble an attractive lottery jackpot figure, for the very purpose of exciting the market value for sale and delivery of those illicit drugs
JULY 13, 1787
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
A Friday the 13th no less,
and
the Northwest Ordinance was passed:
"Article the Sixth
There shall be neither
Slavery nor involuntary Servitude
in the said territory otherwise
than in the punishment of crimes,
whereof
the party shall have been duly convicted"
followed immediately by a provision
returning fugitive slaves to those
who had a “legitimate” claim to them
And so the house was divided against itself
before it was even built
So much for sheltering in place...
Today’s LittleNip:
THE MEMORY OF WORDS
—Joseph Nolan
There is more noise
In a single word,
Than a field-full
Of grass.
More than in a forest.
More than from a trumpet,
Squealing out its blast.
The memory of a single word
May well-outlast
All those other, silent sounds
That come, go and pass,
Especially if someone
Calls you an “ass.”
______________________
Hopefully everyone made it through Friday the 13th with nary a scratch, and our thanks to today’s contributors to the Kitchen, helping us heal through the world of poetry.
Speaking of healing, there seems to be some sort of kerfuffle at Sac. Poetry Center—something about the Board of Directors and two factions forming. I have received several letters; it seems complicated, but I don’t know much about it. Anyway, I’m not sure which of their zoom activities—if any—will happen this week. I know this sounds mysterious, but as I said, I don’t know much about it. I hope they can resolve their differences soon. SPC has presented many fine poets, workshops and poetry events all these years, being a poetry hub for Sacramento Valley. Stay tuned…
I find it ironic that during the same week that I and the Kitchen poets have been talking about healing, some of our area poets are finding themselves fracturing away from each other. Ay yi yi……
Anyway, this week in our area that I'm sure is happening:
•••Fri., 7:30pm: Video poetry reading on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com/ or youtube.com/jamesleejobe/.
•••For more about El Dorado County poetry events, check Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Check out the current page for a fine tanka by Taylor Graham!
______________________
—Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
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| “Sometimes a rope is a snake…” |
