Looking For That Dream Street

 

—Poetry by Joan McNerney, Ravena, New York

—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain

ENIGMA
 
shapes of time our time
pulsing in this labyrinth
of today’s bizarre maze
 
leading to confusion
as we witness neverending
twists of hatred and sorrow
 
while we spin through
this arc of silence where
the bewildered gather
 
figures in that jigsaw
of ragged bitter edges
dancing with death

 

 

 

 

 

QUESTIONS
 
Who
took away spring
stole all the glory
throwing our gardens of green
into these hills of scorched grass?
 
Who
dared to care
more about money
destroying everything good
forgetting earth is our only home?
 
Who
is so callous
to laugh at the suffering
of the sick poor yet pretend
to believe in a loving God?
 
Who
began all these wars
making mothers cry for children
searching for their bodies
in the chaos of destruction?
 
Who
robbed our hope
and all our wonder
burning heaven with dry
lightning to pierce the sky?
 
Who
are you
who made
the angels moan?

 

 

 

 

 
LOST DREAM

I am driving up a hill
without name on an
unnumbered highway.
 
This road transforms into
a snake winding around
coiled on hairpin turns.
 
At bottom of the incline
lies a dark village strangely
hushed with secrets.
 
How black it is.  How difficult
to find that dream street
which I must discover.
 
Exactly what I will explore
is unsure.  Where I will find it
is unknown.  All is in question.
 
I continue to haunt gloomy
streets in this dream town
crossing dim intersections.
 
Everything has become a maze
where one line leads to another
dead ends become beginnings.
 
Deciding to abandon my search,
I return for my automobile…
nowhere to be found in shadows.
 
Finally I look up at the moon’s
yellow eye…my lips forming
prayers to a disinterested god.


(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 6/6/13)

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.
 
―Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

_____________________

Welcome back to the Kitchen, Joan! Joan McNerney was first posted in the Kitchen on June 6, 2013 (almost ten years ago!), and on that day we included her Medusa poem. I’ve taken the liberty of re-posting it today (thank you, Joan):


BEWARE
—Joan McNerney
 
If you touch Medusa
her serpents will wrap
themselves around you.
She soars through water
with giant wings gold fins.
Hundreds of snakes
crawling from her head.
 
Some long to be near
Medusa to hear her hissing
lisping songs forgetful.
She can suck blood from
throats coiling minds
past infinity before
they breathe again.


(prev. posted on Medusa’s Kitchen, 6/6/13)

 

* * *

Do you “long to be near Medusa”? Of course you do! 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!

Be sure to check the INCOMING NORCAL EVENTS link at the top of this column for current poetry doings in our area. Today is packed!

 

 

Note new time and place!

 

NOTICE: This afternoon’s Sac. Poetry Alliance reading has a changed time and venue: go to The Side Door, 2900 Franklin Blvd., Sac. at 2pm (instead of Library of MusicLandria at 4pm). New reading info: www.facebook.com/events/1044536556149202/. Info about The Side Door: www.facebook.com/Sidedoorproductions/.

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 Joan McNerney

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



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