—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
IN THE TRENCHES
Through the trenches
of warfare, love’s bayonet
Through the trenches
of warfare, love’s bayonet
bled me dry,
carnage upon the battlefield
sanity fled and left me, bone dry
and soulless as a corpse
no hugging lullaby nor voice
sung, just night, and bleak black,
just bullet’s wheezing past
feeling that inebriating sting,
that heart flared arch, then exploded
scattering across this parched dry
land, no one to hold my hand, as I
lie here dying, down deep in the
tattered trenches of love's warfare.
IN RUINS
Scattered ashes
memories of what was
those times we shared
now white ashen smoke
a quiet plume on the breeze
of winter hibernation
the evergreens bear silent
witness to this downward
spiral, this unfair charade
a psychological game
warfare waged upon the
innocent, bombshells explode
shrapnel slicing through the
organs, the hearts desire lies
in ruins.
Scattered ashes
memories of what was
those times we shared
now white ashen smoke
a quiet plume on the breeze
of winter hibernation
the evergreens bear silent
witness to this downward
spiral, this unfair charade
a psychological game
warfare waged upon the
innocent, bombshells explode
shrapnel slicing through the
organs, the hearts desire lies
in ruins.
LAST WORDS
Ring the death bell, ring the bells of
biblical solace, deer panting for dew
upon the slick blades of grass, jade
daggers and death bequeathed at
dawn, the wanting of you and here I
am pining away, lost in labyrinths of
bewilderment, lost in a sea of exile,
this raft afloat and froth of mouth,
here we are agape in the sheer dire
bedlam of our own making, this dream
and that, afloat and obtuse, hieroglyphic
mind, born in the blood-lotus morning,
third eye cast asunder, and if these are
the last words dropped and plummet
from the grey breaking skies, so be it.
New World Warbler
ON DOUBT
You doubt your reality
as the new world warblers
unravel their sweet shrill
cries, yellow breast, gray
back, lost into the old world
of wilderness and winding
streams of Australia, come
the world, cast out and fly
freely in Northern America,
never doubt yourself, cast
the stone into the eyes of
defeat.
You doubt your reality
as the new world warblers
unravel their sweet shrill
cries, yellow breast, gray
back, lost into the old world
of wilderness and winding
streams of Australia, come
the world, cast out and fly
freely in Northern America,
never doubt yourself, cast
the stone into the eyes of
defeat.
UNTIL MORNING
Tonight in a swirl of cigarette
smoke, Jeff Buckley sang "the
last goodbye”, the exhaust from
my beat-up old car intermingling
within the slide guitar of vibrato
memory, there she strolls into the
tattered pages of my past, just
like the rest of them, rain-drizzled
film noir, a black cat crosses my
path, just for good measure, if I
could just sleep and dream of her
I would, if we could just lay on our
backs peering into the cosmos and
count stars until the morning came.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I count, this first day of another year, what remains.
I have a mountain, a kitchen, two hands.
―Jane Hirshfield, The Asking: New and Selected Poems
__________________
—Medusa, welcoming Wayne Russell back to the Kitchen with his fine poetry, and wishing this limping world some better days to come~
Tonight in a swirl of cigarette
smoke, Jeff Buckley sang "the
last goodbye”, the exhaust from
my beat-up old car intermingling
within the slide guitar of vibrato
memory, there she strolls into the
tattered pages of my past, just
like the rest of them, rain-drizzled
film noir, a black cat crosses my
path, just for good measure, if I
could just sleep and dream of her
I would, if we could just lay on our
backs peering into the cosmos and
count stars until the morning came.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
I count, this first day of another year, what remains.
I have a mountain, a kitchen, two hands.
―Jane Hirshfield, The Asking: New and Selected Poems
__________________
—Medusa, welcoming Wayne Russell back to the Kitchen with his fine poetry, and wishing this limping world some better days to come~
For 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
Medusa and LittleSnake!
