Secrets

 First rose of the summer!
—Photo by Caschwa
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Claire J. Baker, Caschwa, and Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Visuals Courtesy of
Joe Nolan and Medusa

 

 

SECRETS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

You keep your secrets in a cave.
I will never find them.
I see your trail of deceit.
I know you have been lying.

I will never find you.
You slither off to hide in dark.
I know you have been lying.
It’s better if I walk away.

You slither off to hide in dark.
I see your trail of deceit.
It’s better if I walk away.
I’ll leave your secrets in a cave.

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

THE DARK CAVE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

With speleology in mind,
where synapse pathways sometimes blind,
how do we navigate the brain,
uncharted caverns, measureless?

Wall painted as a gallery,
depictions, stark, like hunt outline—
those bones, horns, shapes of bestiaries,
so far removed from Plato’s store.

Here less as windmills, circle turn,
free-wheel, more unpredictable,
so much lies hidden underground,
behind the optic, beneath crown.

Proximity of no account,
when delving to such mysteries;
cloud of unknowing yet persists
despite slight scratches in that soil.

We crave more insight, maybe soul,
unravel channels, curls or coils,
but in this mean time, darkest wells,
defiled, depressed, lie borehole shafts.

The only light, refraction slight,
that others too share plight with us,
so fate less lonely as we fight
amongst the stalagmites—hold tight. 

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

CONTEMPLATION CAVE
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

Arriving at a crossroad
in yet another rite of passage,
I enter a mystical cave where
cobwebs drape my body
with a filmy gauze
and debris bruises my feet.

Suddenly I wonder why
I came to earth in human flesh,
not in fur. Am I a tiger or a kitty-cat?
What does change need from me?
Does a Sisyphean boulder
await my personal mythology?

Bats hang like huge black figs all
over dank walls; sleeping bears stir.
To review/renew myself,
I will try to answer poet Oliver’s,
What do you plan to do with
your one wild and precious life?

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

IN THE BLACK FOREST
—Claire J. Baker

Traveler,
when a nightingale
sings near

and pleases you,
do you believe  
some night soon—

maybe a moonless spring —
you will pause and sing
for the nightingale?

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

I KNOW WHERE IT IS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

What happens after a traumatic brain injury?
memories may not stay where you had put them,
some are front and center, ready to retrieve with
no problems at all, while others end up in some
kind of dark cave, the mind’s Dead Letter Dept.

Ten days of coma from a contusion, from being
knocked off my motorcycle by a car, from my head
hitting the pavement, from wearing a cheap, used
crash helmet that was no longer up to such crashes,
from being in the wrong place at the wrong time,
from a long line of mistakes man has made since
Adam and Eve showed us the way.

Gradually, my sensory organs regained their
     functions
and now they are back up and running, teasing me    
    with
little excerpts of memories that should lead straight
to full memories, but something is missing. Like
    opening
a file-cabinet drawer and finding just random file
    folders
laying in that drawer, not hanging, no labels, no
    sorting,
just warehoused thoughts crammed together in no
particular order in the dark cave of my mind. And  
I know it’s in there somewhere.

Finding one’s dark cave is not as rewarding as
    finding
sunken treasure. It is more like knowing that you put
the wrong letter in the wrong mailing envelope and
know exactly where it was sent, but can never
    retrieve
it. Plus the hospital’s brain specialist offered the
conclusion that even if I did see what hit me, my
    mind
would block that memory to protect me from the
    trauma
of revisiting those sights.

My late wife, who helped open a new location of
    a big
department store in Santa Monica, had to abide by
company rules to bring her personal effects in a
transparent bag to enter the workplace, not the
    usual
opaque purse like they have for sale at the
    department
store. The dark cave works just the opposite of
    that, no
transparency, everything tucked into opaque
    pouches
and kept out of the light. 

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

UNWRITTEN RULE
—Caschwa

(A response to a recent Seed of the Week,
New Neighbors)

Some men’s restrooms provide a
trough style urinal where multiple
men stand side by side to empty
their bladders.

You won’t find this posted on the
walls anywhere, but there is a rule
these men must observe:

Don’t turn your head and look at
your neighbor, as he might be very
offended and call you out as some
kind of pervert. Or worse, he might
be a pervert and like it too much, so
just don’t.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

THE TENSION OF KEEPING PEACE
—Caschwa

Zookeepers keep the peace by putting
animals who would eat each other in
separate cages

Police, also tasked with keeping the peace,
do it by using firearms to impose behavior
modification on violators, which ironically
raises the tension more than keeping the
peace

Collateral damage is our new normal
shoot a gun, miss the target, hit an innocent
utterly fail to keep the peace
drastic waste of ammo if one’s primary
reason to have a gun is to defend oneself
or the government

 

 

 

 Hecatoncheire
—Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

HECATONCHEIRES
—Caschwa

that is the present attitude taken by the
marketing industry, driven by a mythical
creature with 50 heads and 100 arms, each
of great length, ready to put a grip on
whatever appeals to you, in order to upsell
whatever you show an interest in purchasing

The “best deals” are only offered to families
with money, because it is anticipated that they
will willingly part with a lot more crumbs of
that greater slice of the pie that they have long
enjoyed, to buy more and more stuff

new car pairs with
the highest price warranty plan
home television service pairs with
monthly upgrade to allow your
device to receive local sporting events
attending good schools pairs with
incredibly expensive text books
etc., etc., etc. …

once you show money
it is assumed you have more
you’re ready to spend 

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

KEPT GOING
—Caschwa

Was cycling uphill in
Upper Beverly Hills
attractive houses caught the eye
must be nice to live here daily

breathe the fresh air
distanced from urban sprawl
then residential phased into
mountain road, still pleasant

crushed snake on the street
obnoxious smell made me gag
pedaled past it, whew!

 

 

 

 Black cat on grassy knoll
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

THE CO-CONSPIRATOR
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

The black cat was a spotter
For Lee Harvey Oswald,
Peering out behind a curtain,
She saw all too clearly
When it's time to shoot.

She gave the signal
With a low "meow."

Thus, it is a lie—
He did it all alone.
He had a dark assistant.
It really was a conspiracy.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

THE WAR IS NOT OVER
—Joe Nolan

The war is not
Over.
We have not yet
Won.

Our time in the trenches
Is far from done.

The worst of our fears
Is this—
We’re wasting a generation,
Their women
Covered in tears.

It all comes down to this—
We will do as we are told
By our older generation
Lest we all face perdition—
The threat of annihilation.

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

EARTHQUAKE IN MYANMAR
—Joe Nolan

Tectonic plates
Shifting underground
Undermined an edifice
And brought a building down
When the concrete shattered
Revealing a facade
Without any rebar. 

_____________________

—Medusa, with thanks to today’s contributors/conspirators (our Seed of the Week was “A Dark Cave”), and a note that National Poetry Month events continue at Sacramento Poetry Center and elsewhere. See all the info at (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)/.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Joe Nolan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poetic License meets
in Placerville today, 10:30am;
and Sacramento Poetry Center
features a reading and book release
by Andru Defeye tonight, 7:30pm.
For more info about these 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
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 Poetry With Fangs!