Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Stephen Kingsnorth
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Stephen Kingsnorth
GREEN FINGERS?
At age, turned teen, my sisters taught
how handle hoodies, passing by—
their lazy slouch, ill disciplined,
untidy layabouts to boot.
Their dress seemed sloppy, wilt meet weave,
yet heady mix, so easy, free;
crepe petals fit to doff their cap
but I thought better, helping hand.
Mine was a test of pulling power,
so be it gentle, sensitive,
my finger, thumb, tip fondling theirs,
once light grip—but now pushing luck.
Too taut and snap, the move too far,
so test, then raise, or leave alone.
How many victims cast away—
my path so littered casualties?
It was that crazy pavement walk,
a casual, not causal stroll,
an amble, saunter in the warm
where intense orange burst, crowned cracks.
So poppies, California,
exotics named Eschscholzia,
enforced, impatient handy grasp,
lids lifted ’fore the sun had climbed.
At age, turned teen, my sisters taught
how handle hoodies, passing by—
their lazy slouch, ill disciplined,
untidy layabouts to boot.
Their dress seemed sloppy, wilt meet weave,
yet heady mix, so easy, free;
crepe petals fit to doff their cap
but I thought better, helping hand.
Mine was a test of pulling power,
so be it gentle, sensitive,
my finger, thumb, tip fondling theirs,
once light grip—but now pushing luck.
Too taut and snap, the move too far,
so test, then raise, or leave alone.
How many victims cast away—
my path so littered casualties?
It was that crazy pavement walk,
a casual, not causal stroll,
an amble, saunter in the warm
where intense orange burst, crowned cracks.
So poppies, California,
exotics named Eschscholzia,
enforced, impatient handy grasp,
lids lifted ’fore the sun had climbed.
A VERSE IN BRIGHT
Though pointedly, old brown lies low,
crisp sharps awaiting story’s mould
as blanket, wrapping warming soil
where undergrowth unfolds below,
while vibrant veins, hepaticas,
reveal themselves in heartening hope.
But storage units underground,
as bulbs, corms, tubers—geophytes,
are subject to attending worms,
a million microbes in their turn
of metamorphic agency,
in secret sacred harmony.
To celebrate each harvest won
as scene of fruitfulness above,
remember growth beneath unseen,
its stewards, mycorrhiza midst,
communicating mysteries,
averse to light, to paeon’s praise.
MAYPOLE
Here’s May Queen, fern of maiden hair,
around pole danced in tassel plaits,
a spring symbol, fertility,
that crops prove fruitful, as so made.
A measured trance, youth interweave,
the children moving into teen—
as lassies transfer, lunar years,
and lads embark for old man’s beard.
Here men are maid till head is raised,
and razor sharpened on the chin;
the strop of adolescence stripped,
that leather belt rears up no more.
Bucolic scene for bleeding hearts
as choices made for bedding plants.
MIXED BOUQUET
The bouquet held in open arms,
while baby’s breath emerges, white,
black-eyed Susan, domestic front,
so bleeding hearts combined in one.
Here’s Bunny, Lamb, Elephant’s Ear
all in the toybox catalogue,
with Monkey Puzzles, Zebra, Bat,
and Paw of Kangaroo to boot.
Ghost, Spider, Bird of Paradise,
the Dinosaur and Staghorn fern,
a dainty Bird’s-foot Trefoil crawl,
by Balloon flowers and Devil’s Tongue.
Forget-me-Not, for you cannot,
its seeding spreading where it will;
perhaps in our demented state,
its benefit, medicinal.
BLOOMING COMPANY
Hydrangea pink or Ph blue,
Alladin Pink or Esso Blue,
stove paraffin afforded clue—
green tractor fuel, be taxed or dye—
a hue and cry when humans nigh.
Strung crocus against sparrow peck,
hawks, garden ornithology,
protective net of cotton, buds,
their golden sheen for spadger beaks,
unless I first shield, eye alone.
Those tulips wilting, sharing vase—
they do not relish company;
upstanding, till their water shared,
a flop when competition there,
if space ajar for fellowship.
Both we and they particular,
poor bedfellows as blanket rule;
so bring me meadow, sweet as suite,
or marginals, thought no import,
and I may learn community.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
GARDEN ACTIVITY
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Explore Livingstone daisy chains,
patched candytuft for rotting teeth,
that oxeye slaughtered for a feast,
forget-me-not too obvious,
the mandrake rooted, screaming dreams.
_____________________
Our thanks to Stephen Kingsnorth for today’s poetic and photographic celebration of May Day. Some of Stephen’s photos were taken at the nearby cemetery, reminding us that flowers don’t care—they pop up anywhere, themselves celebrating the circle of life.
May is Medusa Month around here! Rattlesnake Press began in 2004, and then Medusa's Kitchen opened its doors on May 29, 2005. So this year will be our 20th anniversary on May 29. Watch for more excitement as the month progresses!
______________________
—Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
A reminder that
today is Sacramento's
today is Sacramento's
Big Day of Giving
for donations to
to your favorite non-profit; and
Pat Grizzell & Oswaldo Vargas
will be reading in Davis tonight, 7pm.
For 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
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!
to your favorite non-profit; and
Pat Grizzell & Oswaldo Vargas
will be reading in Davis tonight, 7pm.
For 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
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!
