Petri Dish
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith, Cleveland, OH
Sun near down
light soothing
humidity softening sound
crickets test heat
lightning bugs charge
moths cruise light bars
for mad dash of fire
I creep to sleep
lick my wounds
rewind bind
lose hounds of time
in dream mind
where Magic still abounds
like ancient burial grounds
raining rainbows in curved air
prism all around
light soothing
humidity softening sound
crickets test heat
lightning bugs charge
moths cruise light bars
for mad dash of fire
I creep to sleep
lick my wounds
rewind bind
lose hounds of time
in dream mind
where Magic still abounds
like ancient burial grounds
raining rainbows in curved air
prism all around
Weather's getting more extreme
so are people
guess which one wins
Weighing would
of could and should
with is
Sitting silent in the dark
me and the missus
rocking slowly with
the clicking of the clocks
the fireplace flames dancing
the sleeping dog snoring
the black cat shadow
leading us on
into an ever more unknown
of me, my loves, and Eye
I'm copal
she's frankincense
we sweet smoke rising
Take Me To Your Leader
TAXONOMIES
Isle of aisles
maidens of maze
troubles and trials
many a days
inchworms to apples
punchdrunk to prime
stubborn to supple
carrot or crime
feather and thorn
garrot and kiss
night or morn
married or miss
they're all just labels
pictures in mist
plates on the tables
part of the list
It's a race—
I endure
reality wears me down
Eventually
reality wins
The 3whymen
A little light lurking
in the corner behind the plant
darkness rolling round
My life plan
was: work, hope for success
now: endure until death
Frowning world out there
I smile within
step by day by year by life
Mining the mundane
Morning Mirror
Today’s LittleNip:
Moral of the story—
there's beer and wine beauty
and the morning after mirror
—Smith
______________________
Smith (Stephen B. Smith) is in the Kitchen today, rockin’ his words with sweet rhythms that he carries off so well. Our thanks to him and hopes for a better 2023.
Speaking of rockin’, this is a busy night in NorCal poetry, with Winters Open Mic, Poetry in Davis (Brad Buchanan and Frank Dixon Graham), Renegade Literati Online Workshop with Indigo Moor, and Ladies of the Night at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento. 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.
______________________
—Medusa
Moral of the story—
there's beer and wine beauty
and the morning after mirror
—Smith
______________________
Smith (Stephen B. Smith) is in the Kitchen today, rockin’ his words with sweet rhythms that he carries off so well. Our thanks to him and hopes for a better 2023.
Speaking of rockin’, this is a busy night in NorCal poetry, with Winters Open Mic, Poetry in Davis (Brad Buchanan and Frank Dixon Graham), Renegade Literati Online Workshop with Indigo Moor, and Ladies of the Night at Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento. 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.
______________________
—Medusa
—Photo by Smith
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!