—Poetry and Photos by Cynthia Linville, Rocklin, CA
WHAT WE’RE SEARCHING FOR (2)
(A Google Poem)
why are ferrets illegal in california
why are people so angry right now
why can’t I sleep
why are interest rates going up
why does russia want to invade ukraine
why do dogs eat grass
why can’t I tag people on facebook
why can’t we print more money
why does god allow suffering
why does quinoa need to be rinsed
why does covid cause loss of smell
why can’t people hear me on my iPhone
why does nobody want to work
why does dna replicate
why does wikipedia need money
why does frodo leave
why does ophelia kill herself
why does the grinch hate christmas
why does the government spy on us
why does a compass point north
why does bitcoin have value
why does the moon shine
why does saturn have rings
why does gravity exist
why can’t congress pass a budget
why can’t I remember my childhood
why does love hurt so much
why does my eye keep twitching
why does zoom echo
why does déjà vu happen
why does nothing feel real
* * *
“What We’re Searching For” (1) was published on Medusa’s Kitchen on March 22, 2011 (medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2011/03/volti-subito.html)
(A Google Poem)
why are ferrets illegal in california
why are people so angry right now
why can’t I sleep
why are interest rates going up
why does russia want to invade ukraine
why do dogs eat grass
why can’t I tag people on facebook
why can’t we print more money
why does god allow suffering
why does quinoa need to be rinsed
why does covid cause loss of smell
why can’t people hear me on my iPhone
why does nobody want to work
why does dna replicate
why does wikipedia need money
why does frodo leave
why does ophelia kill herself
why does the grinch hate christmas
why does the government spy on us
why does a compass point north
why does bitcoin have value
why does the moon shine
why does saturn have rings
why does gravity exist
why can’t congress pass a budget
why can’t I remember my childhood
why does love hurt so much
why does my eye keep twitching
why does zoom echo
why does déjà vu happen
why does nothing feel real
* * *
“What We’re Searching For” (1) was published on Medusa’s Kitchen on March 22, 2011 (medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2011/03/volti-subito.html)
DROWNED
Desire waits
in the middle of
its own ocean
overflowing
into our trembling
hands
pulling us into
the gravity
of a tide
that rips away
our best intentions
dissolves our fragile objections
until we are
plunged
onto rocks unseen
mercilessly
entangling us
in our own boneless dreams
Desire waits
in the middle of
its own ocean
overflowing
into our trembling
hands
pulling us into
the gravity
of a tide
that rips away
our best intentions
dissolves our fragile objections
until we are
plunged
onto rocks unseen
mercilessly
entangling us
in our own boneless dreams
WANTED
She hesitates on the threshold of a room
she’s never been in before.
Yet she is drawn in by the reckless light,
by a stillness that has no color.
She feels bleached out, overexposed.
It feels good.
She wants to unmake herself,
become naked, evaporate her past.
She wants to become this photograph,
be this impervious.
* * *
A bright, glossy photograph,
impervious to time
an artful nude, lacking scars,
floating pristine above the shadows
all real identifiers bleached out—
she becomes unclaimed territory.
She becomes reckless, still,
devoid of color.
She hesitates on the threshold of a room
she’s never been in before.
Yet she is drawn in by the reckless light,
by a stillness that has no color.
She feels bleached out, overexposed.
It feels good.
She wants to unmake herself,
become naked, evaporate her past.
She wants to become this photograph,
be this impervious.
* * *
A bright, glossy photograph,
impervious to time
an artful nude, lacking scars,
floating pristine above the shadows
all real identifiers bleached out—
she becomes unclaimed territory.
She becomes reckless, still,
devoid of color.
NOLA
Please take me in your scented arms
Please take me in your scented arms
New Orleans, I'm coming for more
Oh, New Orleans I'm coming for more
—Dayna Kurtz
Not even the sky seems right
in this insomniac’s city
impoverished and doomed
a glitter that rubs off—
a borrowed dress
that makes her look more beautiful
than she actually is
that makes you say yes
to the smoking heart of
this godforsaken city—
spattered with light
and out of focus
a neon kaleidoscope you can taste
jazzy and fizzing
too sharp
too sweet
When you go inside her embrace
her addictive darkness
enters you,
never leaves
—Dayna Kurtz
Not even the sky seems right
in this insomniac’s city
impoverished and doomed
a glitter that rubs off—
a borrowed dress
that makes her look more beautiful
than she actually is
that makes you say yes
to the smoking heart of
this godforsaken city—
spattered with light
and out of focus
a neon kaleidoscope you can taste
jazzy and fizzing
too sharp
too sweet
When you go inside her embrace
her addictive darkness
enters you,
never leaves
DIAGNOSIS
She assumed there’d be so much more time
Like a pilgrim, she walks all the way to the water
She stands on the shore, outmatched by hope
The sky shines with moonless rain
with fog, the color of temple smoke
She knows the horizon is bigger than her life—
a life she’s about to slip into her pocket
Some people survive their stories
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
—Maya Angelou, I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
___________________
It’s been a while since songbird Cynthia Linville visited the Kitchen, and we’re glad to have her here with her fine poems and her lovely seascapes! Remember that 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.
Tonight (Sat., 2/19), from 6-7:30pm: Placerville’s Poetry Art Walk celebrates Hearts and Flowers Month with an open mic themed “Kissing the Bee”. TooGood Cellars, 304 Main St., Placerville. Host: Lara Gularte.
___________________
—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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!