Somewhere in Slovakia
—Poetry by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Public Domain Photos of Mountain Paths
Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
THE LABYRINTH
We gaze at the day’s labyrinth.
Entering the maze, our first decision,
as with most of life, leads to an
other and another choice. We lose
ourselves in challenging territory.
At dead-ends, we may retrace
our steps, a move known as
learning. If easy side-trips change
to miasmas, we may get lost
in switching views for wider vision.
Not alone in the maze,
we grab a hand,
a halo, exude hardy hellos!
Feeling fully heard, finally
we proceed forward in
a groove bearing our name.
Resting in the center, we praise
the maze, before homing home—
in flux for taking on tomorrow’s
stops and starts, yeas and nays.
We gaze at the day’s labyrinth.
Entering the maze, our first decision,
as with most of life, leads to an
other and another choice. We lose
ourselves in challenging territory.
At dead-ends, we may retrace
our steps, a move known as
learning. If easy side-trips change
to miasmas, we may get lost
in switching views for wider vision.
Not alone in the maze,
we grab a hand,
a halo, exude hardy hellos!
Feeling fully heard, finally
we proceed forward in
a groove bearing our name.
Resting in the center, we praise
the maze, before homing home—
in flux for taking on tomorrow’s
stops and starts, yeas and nays.
INVULNERABLE TOWER
A hound is scratching at my fortress.
Looking down on him with contempt,
I could shoot him dead and forget.
But he limps with bleeding feet,
and whines in the night.
I could come down from my tower,
extract thorns and burrs,
bandage him gently, bring water
and some meaty bones.
It is a steep descent. But he
bleeds at my wall and will die,
as I am dying in my tower.
I make my way down
the steep
stony staircase.
Reaching ground level,
I unbolt the double lock,
heave open the heavy door.
The hound limps closer….
In nursing his wounds,
I know they are my own.
A hound is scratching at my fortress.
Looking down on him with contempt,
I could shoot him dead and forget.
But he limps with bleeding feet,
and whines in the night.
I could come down from my tower,
extract thorns and burrs,
bandage him gently, bring water
and some meaty bones.
It is a steep descent. But he
bleeds at my wall and will die,
as I am dying in my tower.
I make my way down
the steep
stony staircase.
Reaching ground level,
I unbolt the double lock,
heave open the heavy door.
The hound limps closer….
In nursing his wounds,
I know they are my own.
JEAN-JOHN
1.
He wrote lifelong pen pals, read the classics;
kept a well-tooled shop; pieced together
Mensa-like puzzles: calm lake, clear sky.
My soft-voiced companion worked 45 years
at a university seismograph lab.
measuring markings on the Richter Scale.
On our mountain treks,
he reeled off Latin names of flora
and fauna, pointed out geological
formations, rock minerals, cloud types….
2.
In his home, he wore a womanly
blonde wig, a ruffled blue satin dress,
a stuffed bra and four-inch heels—
the best of both worlds,
he/she proudly proclaimed!
3.
Jean-John’s small body,
rugged to the core, finally failed:
surgeons found inoperable cancer.
My friend died wearing a wig and
a pink chemise…I miss our rugged trips
all of our trails of naming,
the weathers and dangers we faced
for over 25 years of camping, climbing,
exploring nature and our own natures.
1.
He wrote lifelong pen pals, read the classics;
kept a well-tooled shop; pieced together
Mensa-like puzzles: calm lake, clear sky.
My soft-voiced companion worked 45 years
at a university seismograph lab.
measuring markings on the Richter Scale.
On our mountain treks,
he reeled off Latin names of flora
and fauna, pointed out geological
formations, rock minerals, cloud types….
2.
In his home, he wore a womanly
blonde wig, a ruffled blue satin dress,
a stuffed bra and four-inch heels—
the best of both worlds,
he/she proudly proclaimed!
3.
Jean-John’s small body,
rugged to the core, finally failed:
surgeons found inoperable cancer.
My friend died wearing a wig and
a pink chemise…I miss our rugged trips
all of our trails of naming,
the weathers and dangers we faced
for over 25 years of camping, climbing,
exploring nature and our own natures.
MY WISTFUL DENTIST
He works fifty miles from family & home—
enough land here in Sonoma to fell
a diseased oak and just let it lie, he boasts,
On weekends, doctor bikes through hills
and valleys, he and fellow bikers
gliding low like an earth-hugging flock.
After a long career, it’s no secret—
he yearns less for root canals
than for cycling in the hills of home.
Today, before injecting deadener
for my crown, I heard a sigh slip down
his starched white smock.
He works fifty miles from family & home—
enough land here in Sonoma to fell
a diseased oak and just let it lie, he boasts,
On weekends, doctor bikes through hills
and valleys, he and fellow bikers
gliding low like an earth-hugging flock.
After a long career, it’s no secret—
he yearns less for root canals
than for cycling in the hills of home.
Today, before injecting deadener
for my crown, I heard a sigh slip down
his starched white smock.
A Path, Taken
ONE AFTERNOON
for Pilar*
Snowflakes
picked
a
careful
path
down the sky
so as to
arrive
unbroken
at your feet.
*She hiked the 2,650 mi,
Pacific Coast Trail, from
Mexican border to Canada.
for Pilar*
Snowflakes
picked
a
careful
path
down the sky
so as to
arrive
unbroken
at your feet.
*She hiked the 2,650 mi,
Pacific Coast Trail, from
Mexican border to Canada.
LADY GOD
She’s practical as a frying pan,
charismatic as Cher,
expansive like Eleanor R.
Skirting black holes,
she strolls among galaxies
and planetary gardens,
pausing to add angel gold
to her newly-opened boutique
on glorious Cloud Nine.
Happy in the southern part
of her altar-ego’s realm,
she sips mint juleps,
craves watermelon
black eyed peas
and fry-crusted scrapple.
Lady sings the pinks,
rings bells on brinks and winks
more at heavens than hells.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
BROADEN ME,
EXPERIENCE
—Claire J. Baker
Spread me
even wider
over the
cell phone
screen
of
my
soul.
____________________
Welcome back to the Kitchen, Claire Baker, and thank you for the fine poems!
Today, from 1-4pm, head over to Locke, where Cold River Press will present D.R. Wagner’s Distant Lights Book Release and Reading LIVE in Locke! Poetry, music, BBQ will celebrate the release of D.R.’s new quartet, Distant Lights, and the return of live poetry readings! Hosts: Dave Boles, Stuart Walthall, D.R. Wagner. Facebook info: www.facebook.com/events/195925308651536/?acontext={"event_action_history"%3A[{"mechanism"%3A"search_results"%2C"surface"%3A"bookmark"}]}
Also today, 2pm, Poetry of the Sierra Foothills will present a LIVE open mike at Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 411 Hwy 49, Ste. 100, Diamond Springs (where Hwy. 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Social distancing and masks required. Host: Lara Gularte.
____________________
—Medusa
She’s practical as a frying pan,
charismatic as Cher,
expansive like Eleanor R.
Skirting black holes,
she strolls among galaxies
and planetary gardens,
pausing to add angel gold
to her newly-opened boutique
on glorious Cloud Nine.
Happy in the southern part
of her altar-ego’s realm,
she sips mint juleps,
craves watermelon
black eyed peas
and fry-crusted scrapple.
Lady sings the pinks,
rings bells on brinks and winks
more at heavens than hells.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
BROADEN ME,
EXPERIENCE
—Claire J. Baker
Spread me
even wider
over the
cell phone
screen
of
my
soul.
____________________
Welcome back to the Kitchen, Claire Baker, and thank you for the fine poems!
Today, from 1-4pm, head over to Locke, where Cold River Press will present D.R. Wagner’s Distant Lights Book Release and Reading LIVE in Locke! Poetry, music, BBQ will celebrate the release of D.R.’s new quartet, Distant Lights, and the return of live poetry readings! Hosts: Dave Boles, Stuart Walthall, D.R. Wagner. Facebook info: www.facebook.com/events/195925308651536/?acontext={"event_action_history"%3A[{"mechanism"%3A"search_results"%2C"surface"%3A"bookmark"}]}
Also today, 2pm, Poetry of the Sierra Foothills will present a LIVE open mike at Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 411 Hwy 49, Ste. 100, Diamond Springs (where Hwy. 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Social distancing and masks required. Host: Lara Gularte.
____________________
—Medusa
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. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
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. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
