Medusa, cleverly disguised as a witch
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Caschwa,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan,
Sayani Mukherjee, and
Michael H. Brownstein
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Caschwa,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan,
Sayani Mukherjee, and
Michael H. Brownstein
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Joe Nolan, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Medusa
OH, THE HORROR OF IT ALL
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Halloween is still days away, but horror
rides unmasked on the streets.
A killing frost assembled its thugs
to cruise our small-town roads.
The amount of carnage they’ll inflict
on trees and late-bloom flowers
will make fair autumn flee
into the frozen arms of winter.
We’ll have to don our heavy coats
before we raked the leaves.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Halloween is still days away, but horror
rides unmasked on the streets.
A killing frost assembled its thugs
to cruise our small-town roads.
The amount of carnage they’ll inflict
on trees and late-bloom flowers
will make fair autumn flee
into the frozen arms of winter.
We’ll have to don our heavy coats
before we raked the leaves.
Alien Kids
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
SHEAR MINDLESSNESS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
two shepherds met in the woods
each had their own flock of sheep
they couldn’t agree on could should, or would
so they parted, forever to keep
their flocks as mindless as a pet rock
moldable, trainable, idiotic
each a gun loaded full and half cocked
no fear of danger, ready to kick
ass at the polling booth, of all things
registered to drop a #1 or #2
then exit like they had wings
and could fly off into the blue
followers of outcomes wait to see
how things will go with these 2 shepherds
which one has the golden key
to unlock the gossip of little birds?
of Medusa
DANGER !
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
It may be cliff edge, downfall scree
loose stream stones to oblivion;
flood water of storm flowing free
unleashed from damn burst reservoir.
Bullmastiff, boxer, straining lead,
unmuzzled terrier, the street;
dark night, unlit, quick flash indeed,
purse grab, more shiv, in cut and thrust.
A scam, or worse, the fair-game one,
entrepreneur, unproven track;
a supplement, enhancing run,
the medal-hungry jumping high.
Old soldier on the battlefield
whose troops die for his glory day.
Safari on the veldt, well-heeled,
pride lions, zebra, monkey troop.
Now risk averse, we trigger warn—
but not in universal terms;
art galleries, religious borne—
the bible as a book indeed.
The New Atlantis, artists’ oeuvre
like Francis Bacon, everywhere—
world portrait well beyond the Louvre,
where everyone should take offence.
BRITISH TIME
—Stephen Kingsnorth
‘The mists of time’ a hackneyed phrase,
but phases of the rising sun
are set upon, twice year attack,
as hands moved round to change the hour,
both back and forth to tame the time.
So do we rise at 2am,
to gain or lose, manipulate
the clocks that regulate so much,
grandfather’s slow sonorous tone,
the cuckoo first heard when it springs?
How do they alter Big Ben’s voice—
(the pips remain unaltered choice,
all six supplied by BBC)
or deal with dials that mansions face
with swinging sixty pendulums?
And as for henge with stones for hours
where sun is neither stopped nor rushed,
how can they turn the granite dial,
pre-Roman numerals in place,
new meaning, ‘being set in stone—
This past weekend we gained our hour—
as nightshift lost out with their wage
for laboured on without more pay;
when six months comes a shorter night
will then their pack be docked when clocked?
The body clock will slow adjust
like jetlag groaning forth and back,
but evenings darker, home from school
unless the Northern Lights perform.
The last hymn saw the organist.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
OFF TO A DAY AT THE LAKE
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Let us ride
The slip-stream
Into shining,
Top down
On our Cadillac,
Wind in our hair,
Heading off
To our camp at the Lake,
Outside Saratoga.
With my doctor’s plates,
The Troopers won’t stop us
Or even slow us down.
On the straightaways,
We can do eighty,
While the sun
Warms our skin
In the breeze.
All along the lakeshore
Camps align the lake,
Perfect for summer
Recreation,
With everything
You need
To fish, boat and swim.
We’ll all be together,
Crazy as we are,
All the better
To be free and wild
As we blow away
A summer day,
In our usual style.
THE BARGAIN PUPPY
—Joe Nolan
I opted for
The bargain puppy
From the
Litter for sale,
But later
I wondered
If my
Strategy failed
When I had
Some basic
Problems
That took
A long time
To solve.
Maybe things
Might have been
Easier
Had I bought
A higher-priced pup,
But being a novice
At buying a dog,
I thought the cheaper one
Would be enough
For me to be
Content with,
Overcoming
Every fail,
With patience and
Perseverance,
Regardless of
All that ails.
SHOPPING LIST
—Joe Nolan
Remember to re-read
Your reminder note
When you get to the store
To shop.
There’s at least
A couple items
There
Your memory
Might drop
If you don’t remember
To remind yourself,
Again,
Since the virtue of youth,
That includes the mind,
Is no longer your bosom friend.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
ELDERLY COUPLE
—Joe Nolan
Elderly couple,
Growing older
Together,
Memories
Lost in dreams.
Each remembers
A different version
Of what they’ve
Been through,
Together.
Different orbits
With different spins,
If that was all,
Things would be
So much better,
But all the ways
Things diverge
Question
The basis
Of having been
Together at all.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
HUNGRY GHOSTS
—Joe Nolan
Do not pray for the world—
Pray for those
Who have loved the world,
But could never get their fill.
They shall become
Hungry ghosts
Who linger in spirit
In opium dens
In brothels
In drinking bars
Where spirit is consumed
In material alteration—
More and more
Hungry ghosts
Ready to join
The cloud
Where hunger is
The heart of the hour
As lust in all its forms
Is empowered.
GOD’S HANDS
—Sayani Mukherjee, Chandannagar,
W. Bengal, India
A blue sky of tattered past
Of sublime wishes and neverending past
A poetic reverie of past sense
Of diamonds and opal linen sky
A two-pence watch to sell for
The night sky of ever-changing wishes
Of topaz and blueness at this hour
I surmise my clock to send for
God's hands in my prayers
Of what ifs and crestfallen goodbyes
As if the sky was ablaze with midnight memories.
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Joe Nolan
Today’s LittleNip:
OCTOBER 30th, 11pm
—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO
When the saints march
and the dead rise from their graves,
do not be afraid.
They are only pumpkins
on their annual parade.
__________________
Our thanks to today’s contributors for poems and pix—I’d say they were horrifying, but that sounds like an insult. Well, horrifying in a good way… Our Seed of the Week was Danger! Nothing like a dangerous poet on the loose.
Next Sunday is the end of Daylight Savings Time out here in the West. I didn't know the UK had their own version of it, but Stephen Kingsnorth's poem marks the occasion over there.
* * *
Be sure to check out the Kitchen next Sunday for our tribute to B.L. Kennedy, who passed away last Monday from a number of health issues. Bari helped a great deal with Rattlesnake Press in the early days, contributing poetry, poem-pix, reviews, interviews and more, and he will be missed.
* * *
Congratulations to El Dorado County’s Joe Walsh for having his poem, “Contemplation”, featured in The Mountain Democrat as Poem of the Month. See https://www.mtdemocrat.com/prospecting/poem-of-the-month-contemplation/article_0b84c906-8642-11ef-853d-1ba05429750a.html/.
* * *
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
____________________
—Medusa
Medusa's Kitchen on Halloween
(I guess Medusa flew off on her broom.)
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
A reminder that
No Last Name and Alias
will be reading at
Sacramento Poetry Center
tonight, 7:30. (I know who
No Last Name and Alias
will be reading at
Sacramento Poetry Center
tonight, 7:30. (I know who
Alias is but I'm not telling.)
For info about this and other
future 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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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!
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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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!