—Poetry by Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) and Joseph Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
GREAT IDEA
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
it was a really
fabulous idea
go to the
bowling alley
and make one
very minor
change, just
replace the
headpin with
a stick of
dynamite
all the pins
would fall
guaranteed
oh wait, the
whole bowling
alley would
fall as well
including the
automated
scoring
mechanism
so none of
these efforts
would count
in the future,
don’t bring
me these
great ideas
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
it was a really
fabulous idea
go to the
bowling alley
and make one
very minor
change, just
replace the
headpin with
a stick of
dynamite
all the pins
would fall
guaranteed
oh wait, the
whole bowling
alley would
fall as well
including the
automated
scoring
mechanism
so none of
these efforts
would count
in the future,
don’t bring
me these
great ideas
NOT SO CLEAR
—Caschwa
the print edition of the
local paper stated we
would have smoky skies
in daylight, and it would
be clear at night
then when night comes
Venus is blurred and
the moon is some kind
of god-awful rusty yellow,
nowhere close to clear
like if a herd of cattle
is crossing a highway
it may be entirely clear
of motor vehicle traffic
but it is NOT clear
since when is Yellow
Journalism part of the
curriculum for students
of meteorology?
—Caschwa
the print edition of the
local paper stated we
would have smoky skies
in daylight, and it would
be clear at night
then when night comes
Venus is blurred and
the moon is some kind
of god-awful rusty yellow,
nowhere close to clear
like if a herd of cattle
is crossing a highway
it may be entirely clear
of motor vehicle traffic
but it is NOT clear
since when is Yellow
Journalism part of the
curriculum for students
of meteorology?
NOT SO CLEAR, II
—Caschwa
it is mid-day
mid-week, and
as I’m looking out
a double-paned window,
with a screen, the smoky image
suggests quite unfair weather conditions
It is manifestly remote from the stereotypical
“just another summer day in August”
rather more like the ashen sky
from a volcanic eruption
laden with the hopes
and dreams of
fire victims
who lost
all
—Caschwa
it is mid-day
mid-week, and
as I’m looking out
a double-paned window,
with a screen, the smoky image
suggests quite unfair weather conditions
It is manifestly remote from the stereotypical
“just another summer day in August”
rather more like the ashen sky
from a volcanic eruption
laden with the hopes
and dreams of
fire victims
who lost
all
LOST TRACK
—Caschwa
had an idea
then it disappeared
into thin air
wasn’t the first time
there must be a
whole bunch of worthy
thoughts up there
in that thin air
sorted by invisible
partitions between
dementia and Alzheimer’s
and breaking 150 in bowling
use the Lamaze breathing
exercises for circulation
hold your breath a while
then grant it parole
—Caschwa
had an idea
then it disappeared
into thin air
wasn’t the first time
there must be a
whole bunch of worthy
thoughts up there
in that thin air
sorted by invisible
partitions between
dementia and Alzheimer’s
and breaking 150 in bowling
use the Lamaze breathing
exercises for circulation
hold your breath a while
then grant it parole
BEFORE WE DIE
—Caschwa
there is no question
that death is inevitable
just ask the life insurance
sales people, but the
real question is (pick one):
how many pages of
history will we get to see
turned before we die?
how many political and
religious alliances will we
see made and broken?
how many hard and fast
truths will we see uprooted,
modified, dispelled, or
simply thrown away?
how many promises made
by ourselves or others will
actually be fulfilled?
how many shares of stock
of a military supplies
company must one own
to direct the strategy our
nation is committed to follow?
—Caschwa
there is no question
that death is inevitable
just ask the life insurance
sales people, but the
real question is (pick one):
how many pages of
history will we get to see
turned before we die?
how many political and
religious alliances will we
see made and broken?
how many hard and fast
truths will we see uprooted,
modified, dispelled, or
simply thrown away?
how many promises made
by ourselves or others will
actually be fulfilled?
how many shares of stock
of a military supplies
company must one own
to direct the strategy our
nation is committed to follow?
Wolf Tantrum
THE MENDING OF SHATTERED GLASS
—Joseph Nolan
Oh, here we are!
I have come aboard,
Looking for some instance
Where glass,
From broken shards,
Is set by glue,
Slowly,
In split pieces,
One-by-one
And two-by-two,
Painfully,
The re-assembly,
Progresses toward an end,
Where broken
Things are mended,
And light shines through,
Once again!
—Joseph Nolan
Oh, here we are!
I have come aboard,
Looking for some instance
Where glass,
From broken shards,
Is set by glue,
Slowly,
In split pieces,
One-by-one
And two-by-two,
Painfully,
The re-assembly,
Progresses toward an end,
Where broken
Things are mended,
And light shines through,
Once again!
THE AUDITION
—Joseph Nolan
It was a huge mistake
To let him audition
For a role he
Could never fill,
Though he was given
Top-billing,
For several seasons,
Everyone was let down!
Something in the way
He read his lines
Could never be bright,
Never be sharp,
Never be right.
The casting director’s to blame:
He didn’t get
That actor’s “game.”
The audiences were so polite!
Clapping and clapping,
Night after night,
Of somehow-abysmal shows,
Where the main character
Was out of his depth,
In a way he refused to know.
But the roar of polite,
Night after night,
Failed to satisfy.
You could feel it when
They left the hall
Disappointed, one and all
And some would not come back
Any sooner,
Than they would to
A halted heart-attack,
Stung with paddles,
To bring a dead man back.
—Joseph Nolan
It was a huge mistake
To let him audition
For a role he
Could never fill,
Though he was given
Top-billing,
For several seasons,
Everyone was let down!
Something in the way
He read his lines
Could never be bright,
Never be sharp,
Never be right.
The casting director’s to blame:
He didn’t get
That actor’s “game.”
The audiences were so polite!
Clapping and clapping,
Night after night,
Of somehow-abysmal shows,
Where the main character
Was out of his depth,
In a way he refused to know.
But the roar of polite,
Night after night,
Failed to satisfy.
You could feel it when
They left the hall
Disappointed, one and all
And some would not come back
Any sooner,
Than they would to
A halted heart-attack,
Stung with paddles,
To bring a dead man back.
EXIT FROM AFGHANISTAN
—Joseph Nolan
We have the right to say, “No!”
You have the right to say, “So?!”
On and on it goes,
Or doesn’t go, anymore.
What was all of it for?
We need an intervention!
From wiser ones than we,
To intervene
With wisdom’s majesty,
To tell us what
We need to know,
How to act,
Which way to go,
Because our glow-worms
Do not glow
In darkness,
Anymore.
—Joseph Nolan
We have the right to say, “No!”
You have the right to say, “So?!”
On and on it goes,
Or doesn’t go, anymore.
What was all of it for?
We need an intervention!
From wiser ones than we,
To intervene
With wisdom’s majesty,
To tell us what
We need to know,
How to act,
Which way to go,
Because our glow-worms
Do not glow
In darkness,
Anymore.
INSIDE A MAZE
—Joseph Nolan
Inside a maze
There are so many ways
To run into
Dead-ends.
Try to remain amazed
And not become confused.
It’s all about the learning.
There’s only one way through.
Count the ways that memory
Keeps track of all
The tracks that will not do.
If you are lucky
Your time in a maze
Will be over soon.
If not,
You’ll someday become wise,
As you go from
One dead-end to another
Because of what you choose.
______________________
Today’s Waffle-Nip:
MAKING WAFFLES
—Caschwa
whip away the hill
form out the fill
repeat, repeat, until
imperfections are nil
bake till fluffy and gold
don’t let them get too old
top with as much as they’ll hold
suit to taste, delicate or bold
avoid clothes that are formal or dressy
this fare can end up being quite messy
think a napkin’s enough? let’s see
your best cleanup diplomacy
_______________________
Thanks to Carl and Joseph for our lively mix of poetry today, as well as for the eye-catching photos that Joseph sent us!
Sat. (8/28), 2pm: Poetry of the Sierra Foothills features Traci Gourdine and Patrick Grizzell plus open mic at Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 4181 Hwy 49, Ste. 100, Diamond Springs (where Hwy 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Host: Lara Gularte.
—Joseph Nolan
Inside a maze
There are so many ways
To run into
Dead-ends.
Try to remain amazed
And not become confused.
It’s all about the learning.
There’s only one way through.
Count the ways that memory
Keeps track of all
The tracks that will not do.
If you are lucky
Your time in a maze
Will be over soon.
If not,
You’ll someday become wise,
As you go from
One dead-end to another
Because of what you choose.
______________________
Today’s Waffle-Nip:
MAKING WAFFLES
—Caschwa
whip away the hill
form out the fill
repeat, repeat, until
imperfections are nil
bake till fluffy and gold
don’t let them get too old
top with as much as they’ll hold
suit to taste, delicate or bold
avoid clothes that are formal or dressy
this fare can end up being quite messy
think a napkin’s enough? let’s see
your best cleanup diplomacy
_______________________
Thanks to Carl and Joseph for our lively mix of poetry today, as well as for the eye-catching photos that Joseph sent us!
Sat. (8/28), 2pm: Poetry of the Sierra Foothills features Traci Gourdine and Patrick Grizzell plus open mic at Love Birds Coffee & Tea Co., 4181 Hwy 49, Ste. 100, Diamond Springs (where Hwy 49 meets Pleasant Valley Rd.). Host: Lara Gularte.
And this note from Canadian SnakePal Ryan Flanagan about tonight:
_______________________
—Medusa
... but not much...
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!
