Lighting Up The Darkness
—Public Domain Photo
—Poetry by Michael H. Brownstein, Ann Privateer,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Caschwa, Joe Nolan, and
Nolcha Fox
—Original Photos by Ann Privateer
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joe Nolan
FAITH
—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO
Do you see the lights in the distance?
The fog-erased outline of the station?
Are you comfortable with your name?
Late afternoon, a spit of sun, sand,
A triumph after the last bloodletting.
Where do we want to go from here?
The temple not destroyed, but desecrated,
Blood graffiti, carcasses of pig,
The ark wide open, spilled oil, broken lamps.
We will not wait until tomorrow to clean,
We are comfortable with who we are,
The mirage of light in the distance our legacy.
One day’s supply lasts eight days,
One prayer resonates in song and psalm,
One mount, one name, a household of praise.
—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO
Do you see the lights in the distance?
The fog-erased outline of the station?
Are you comfortable with your name?
Late afternoon, a spit of sun, sand,
A triumph after the last bloodletting.
Where do we want to go from here?
The temple not destroyed, but desecrated,
Blood graffiti, carcasses of pig,
The ark wide open, spilled oil, broken lamps.
We will not wait until tomorrow to clean,
We are comfortable with who we are,
The mirage of light in the distance our legacy.
One day’s supply lasts eight days,
One prayer resonates in song and psalm,
One mount, one name, a household of praise.
—Photo by Ann Privateer
VACATION
—Ann Privateer, Davis, CA
A time to rest and enjoy
To prep the classroom
Or empty the trash
When a loaf of bread
Gets stale
And there’s no medicine
For nightmares
So sweat dreams.
THREE’S
—Ann Privateer
Packages or gifts
Arrive by Amazon
From the store
To your door
Shopping from
Home for the kids.
of Joe Nolan
ENLIGHTENED
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
The trouble with the torchlight—
we cease to train our eyes
for night sight when the moon hides,
so lazy takes the strain.
I’ll not see current meteors,
the Geminids, a shower,
but not because it’s raining,
but lunar light too bright.
The last I saw, thought firework—
the first, when twelve, a dove—
perhaps in both right reading,
unready for the show.
It may not be Diwali.
Thanksgiving, Guy Fawkes’ cite,
but molten space rock flying,
remains a work of fire.
The bird in flight was stranger,
astonished on my bike,
but meteorite, wing-flap,
pre-teen, a mystery.
A child is less close-minded,
established, what might be,
so I’ll take darkness lightened,
however that might be.
Hosts of these phenomena,
like music of the spheres,
chants beyond comprehension,
a chance, infinity.
It may be a misnomer
to talk of shooting stars,
unless Gaelictic football
is played on Emerald Isle.
We welcome Santa magic,
that playbook most condone,
so why not herald angels,
aurora, south, askew?
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
LEARN ME
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
I am your language
your means of
communication
all attempts at expression
must pass my filters
I am not perfect
some people abuse me
others try to replace me
with not the real thing
there is no other
I am a single tasker, and
your propensity to harbor
expectations to the contrary
are like giving automatic
transmission commands
to a stick shift
I may have some kind of
memory deficit, already
forgot what they call it,
tip: it’s easy to overload
me with too much
information, that sends
my limited attention to
focus elsewhere, where
it is prettier, nicer, calmer
King Kong Santa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
LET’S GET IT ALL STRAIGHT
—Caschwa
If other rights followed the same
path as the right to bear arms
· Each and every person or corporation extended the right to vote could use the latest technology to automatically vote time and time again, no limit
· Each and every person extended the right to marry some other person could marry additional persons, no limit
· Any person may be subject for the same offense, and it doesn’t stop at twice
· A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, neither slavery, nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States; Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate discharge of military assault weapons
· The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex; Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate discharge of military assault weapons
· The right of citizens of the United States, who are eighteen years of age or older, to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of age; Congress shall have the power to enforce this article by appropriate discharge of military assault weapons
RE-THINKING YOUR DOG
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
It’s time to re-think your dog,
But your dog is resistant to reason.
What has he learned
From his years taking turns?
He watches you petting the cat.
What has he learned?
To be quiet
When you are loud
And loud
When things get quiet,
To demand to be let outside
Where the air is fresh,
Away from the domiciled crowd.
It’s time to psych-out your cat,
But your cat will have
Nothing
To do
With that!
Happy, furry and fat,
She has what she’s here for,
Without going to bat
Against rodents roaming the grounds.
Entitlement confounds.
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
It’s time to re-think your dog,
But your dog is resistant to reason.
What has he learned
From his years taking turns?
He watches you petting the cat.
What has he learned?
To be quiet
When you are loud
And loud
When things get quiet,
To demand to be let outside
Where the air is fresh,
Away from the domiciled crowd.
It’s time to psych-out your cat,
But your cat will have
Nothing
To do
With that!
Happy, furry and fat,
She has what she’s here for,
Without going to bat
Against rodents roaming the grounds.
Entitlement confounds.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
THE WELL
—Joe Nolan
The well from which I drank,
Neither poisoned
Nor pure
Didn’t kill me
Nor cure
Whatever was wrong
From the beginning.
It helped to buy me time
To look through a rear-view mirror
To give me a perspective
Toward what I’ve left behind.
JUST SO
—Joe Nolan
From light
Comes knowing
Then understanding.
Not yet healing.
That will take some time.
We’ll have to wander
Down the road
To let it all sink in
After awhile.
A lock resists a key
Until it’s all within.
Then, a little twist
Can do so much.
It just pops open—
Epiphany.
Just so.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
He climbed out
of his pain when
no one was looking,
put pieces together
to make himself whole,
flew out of the embers,
a phoenix created
from fire and sorrow,
to ride the wind currents,
soar into the sun.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
____________________
Our poets are Lighting Up The Darkness today with their responses to our Seed of the Week about same, and our thanks to them for warm poems and photos on cold winter days. Looking for something else to read? The Winter Issue of Sisyphus, “Generations”, is now available online at https://sisyphuslitmag.org/.
A Poetry in Motion read-around will take place in Placerville Sr. Center this morning at 10:30am, but Sac. Poetry Center readings and workshops are cancelled for the rest of the year. Thursday brings the long-running Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe and Juice Bar at 8pm, with featured readers and open mic. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.
And Happy Hanukkah!
____________________
—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—
and collaborations are welcome.
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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!