Cotton Candy Dreams

 

—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Nolcha Fox

 

 

 

A bridge of

braided hair and bone,
placenta plundered,
mothered, daughtered,
umbilical umbrellaed,
connecting us through time
and space.

 

 

 

 

 

To a Pebble in My Shoe

How I love you,
little pebble,
bruising toes and heel.
You remind me
it’s best to walk
in someone else’s
shoes.

 

 

 

 

 

Chairs

1.
Sinkable, suck in,
butt in, think a
deck chair, ship down,
grab the foam
before it grabs you,
sucks you down.

2.
High life, high chair,
belly up to
chug it down,
up in air, airhead,
head over heels,
crybaby, watch her leave.

3.
Cheers for the chairs,
legs that trip, that
fail to grip,
that leave
a skid mark
on the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes

it’s berries in a bowl,
a rabbit hop from hole to food,
the moon disguised
as glowing sky,
an eagle soaring overhead,
a thunderclap to start the show.
Sometimes it’s what
I can’t define.
It leaves me full,
I want it more,
and then

it’s gone.

 

 

 

 

 

Bad Time to Drive

Alleys blocked, resurfacing,
Tourists here, no parking on the street,
Hospital construction, big equipment blocks
the road,
Heavy hail and rain and thunder, best to stay inside.
I’ll be glad when winter comes and I can get
around.

 

 

 

 

 

The sky is a funnel

of blue fade to nightfall,
the buildings fade dark
as the streetlights wake up.
The moon watches bright
as I drive home to dinner.
She makes sure I’m safe
‘til I walk in the door.

 

 

 

 

 

Pets or Kids?

Pets are kids we want to keep at home.

No college fund for them.
No gallivanting off, no peep
until they need to eat and sleep
in clean sheets and wash their clothes,
then leaving with our credit cards.

Pets know a little love from them
will melt our hearts and we will be

their slaves.

 

 

 

 

 

Things That Won’t Get Done

I never seem to get to things
I want to do today:
scuba dive to
find the smiles
I buried undersea,
sew us back
to what we were,
when sharp words
ripped us up,
grab the clouds
and twirl them up
as cotton candy dreams.  

 

 

 

 

 

Stuck

I stuck my foot in your mouth,
and you continued talking,
repeating what you heard from me,
but you got it all backward.
Now I dangle from your lips,
a noodle-headed dummy,
I can’t take back my words or foot
We’re stuck in this together.

 

 

 

 

 

Silence is the space between

in-breath and out-breath,
the split second between eye blinks,
the calm between tears.

 

 

 

 

 

Grace Notes

I play an étude on my flute,
a monster of grace notes.
Outside my window,
a bird on the feeder
echoes my noise.
Mine is just practice,
but hers is a prayer,
a grace before meal,
a prayer that the cat can’t
reach her new nest.

 

 

 

 

 

The day disrobed

her fleecy clouds,
her sweater-warm sun,
her wind-blown dandelions,
and paraded naked into night.

 

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

Unexpected
—Nolcha Fox

Enjoy the unexpected.
Be the unexpected.
Unexpectedly.

____________________

—Medusa, with many thanks to Nolcha Fox for her poems today, and for finding splendid photos to go with them!

 

 

 

—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page.

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!

 

(Catsnake)
LittleSnake’s Glimmer of Hope:
house cat discovers
how the dog door works—
oh my!
what brave new world is this??