—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of
Stephen Kingsnorth
* * *
—Poetry by Stephen Kingsnorth,
Nolcha Fox, Claire J. Baker, Caschwa,
Joe Nolan, and Sayani Mukherjee
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan,
and Medusa
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan,
and Medusa
DARK SECRETS
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
That chocolate without the milk,
though ‘plain’ not word that comes to mind;
Black Forest, scene, grim fairy tales—
though gateau could secret construe.
Some recipes are guarded well
as secrets of the kitchen chef;
confections set in branded bars
from Mars across the Galaxy.
Can Northern Lights be classed as these,
dark secrets for cosmology,
or what unveiled by science now
has whisked the curtain, mystery?
But then the séance, holding hands,
a circle on black magic’s verge
for that’s what stirs the spirit world—
and back to Nestlé’s chocolate box.
Satanic mills, though churches, Blake,
to things said in confessional?
Accepted shames throughout the world,
the greatest, toleration of.
Of secrets, hid grot, passing time,
in dark recesses of the mind,
that unease, guilt that seeps and saps—
what some did ’Nam, saw more Afghan.
Is it the dark of which I’m scared,
ashamed to tell anyone so;
stark shadow in the high-noon glare,
which blinds me to what’s hidden there?
Jet, oil and coal all undermined,
once mourning brooch, now mourning
broached,
for planet’s dark night of the soul
will visit us in blinding light.
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
That chocolate without the milk,
though ‘plain’ not word that comes to mind;
Black Forest, scene, grim fairy tales—
though gateau could secret construe.
Some recipes are guarded well
as secrets of the kitchen chef;
confections set in branded bars
from Mars across the Galaxy.
Can Northern Lights be classed as these,
dark secrets for cosmology,
or what unveiled by science now
has whisked the curtain, mystery?
But then the séance, holding hands,
a circle on black magic’s verge
for that’s what stirs the spirit world—
and back to Nestlé’s chocolate box.
Satanic mills, though churches, Blake,
to things said in confessional?
Accepted shames throughout the world,
the greatest, toleration of.
Of secrets, hid grot, passing time,
in dark recesses of the mind,
that unease, guilt that seeps and saps—
what some did ’Nam, saw more Afghan.
Is it the dark of which I’m scared,
ashamed to tell anyone so;
stark shadow in the high-noon glare,
which blinds me to what’s hidden there?
Jet, oil and coal all undermined,
once mourning brooch, now mourning
broached,
for planet’s dark night of the soul
will visit us in blinding light.
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Stephen Kingsnorth
DARK SECRETS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
We tape our smiles to our faces.
We primp and pry when we converse.
We’re robots in a world that’s scripted.
We don’t ask why something’s wrong.
In the darkness of the evening,
frowns turned lower than the lights,
all our failures, all our anger
burble into cysts we hide.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
MY AMYGDALA
(PTSD, startle reflex)
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Dear anyone who cares,
on the worst startles, my brain misfires,
plunges me into a traumatic pause
in a primitive cave called AMYGDALA.
Triggered, I’m a child, lashed with
a leather belt. Then, I’m a fired bullet
trying not to bolt, as if an ice cube
were slipped down my neck and spine!
I’m to tap on my knee to ground myself,
a speedy remedy that halfway comforts.
On big-triggers I tremble as, when a toddler,
I tumbled down our back stairs onto a garden-
scraper-blade; I shock as when my temperamental
boxer-father threw a vase at mother, who held me.
It smashed on the bedroom wall behind us, she said.
Exaggerated startles, with my efforts to subdue,
last a few quaking seconds! Yet each reaction
(now into thousands) feels as if I’m sliding off
a cliff, unable to firmly grip . . . I don’t know what
loud noise or sudden gesture will trigger the next
jerk-jump and quake. When the phone rings I jump,
and doubly sorry if my startle startles you . . .
It’s not the worst disorder to live with.
I’m conditioning myself to groove with jolts!
Maybe one day I’ll embrace my malady, forgive
my almond-sized amygdala deep in my brain!
I forgot to say: it helps if you seem not to notice
and not say “I’m sorry I startled you.”
Note from Claire: No dark secret now. I’ve had
PTSD from childhood trauma, the rough startle
reflex being part of the trauma. Hey,
I’ve conditioned myself to have way fewer
reactions.
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Joe Nolan
DARK SECRETS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Where did I leave my keys?
Did I remember to change the toaster setting?
Who, exactly, vets candidates for President?
Did I leave perishables in the trunk, again?
How long till obsolete?
Why does mail I marked “Return to sender” come
back to me?
Who is going to replace undocumented laborers?
Will ICE storm in on St. Patrick’s Day parties?
What variations does the color black have?
Can I get a loan using my dental work as equity?
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
ROOM WITH NO WINDOWS
—Caschwa
Our chief executive works at home
in a room with no windows, just
manufactured views from Hollywood…
a virtual panorama of propaganda,
more than enough to fill the largest eyes
No balconies on which to stand and
invite into the senses real air, pure and
unblemished by chemical imbalances
that overwhelm Nature’s best offerings
No matter the stress, people still grow
like weeds, form long lines around the
block to escape the great outdoors and
plop themselves down into the darkness
of a crowded movie theater
Pay top dollar for take-it-or-leave-it food
and drinks, while dozens of movie goers
at a time share very few restrooms, all
being nervously conscious to not break
the seal on “Top Secret, Confidential”
documents also stored in that chamber
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Joe Nolan
BAD AIM
—Caschwa
(High Hopes)
Launch pad explosion
they call themselves scientists
these who miss the rim
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Joe Nolan
SEVENTH DAY DEMENTIST
—Caschwa
(Dark Cave)
Say or do something
one day, then one week later
memory is gone
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
OFF THE SCALE
—Caschwa
The letters A I
are a transposition of
Insane Asylum
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
ON MY WAY
—Caschwa
(So Extravagant)
The opportunity of a lifetime!
Cheerfully handed over my life savings
to SPIT (Snail Pace Interstellar Transport)
to leave this dirty Earth behind and visit
priceless investment dreams over at BHOS,
which was either Beverly Hills On Steroids
or Black Hole of Space.
Here I come! No looking back, no regrets.
Will finally have the perfect, ready to move-
in home without having to build it myself.
Each domicile comes with its own celebrity
history, oil wells forever, and acres of parking
for all my adult toys. On-site chef ready to
make and serve only the finest meals.
Might go for a swim in my Olympic-size bath
tub, sip on whatever fine wine pairs with my
mood, and sleep on the right side of the street
for the rest of my life. Wish I’d have done this
sooner.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
KIROV, MURDERED!
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Let me dig a death
Into a prison.
Let me put
Shackles
On my ankles and feet.
Let me put a black hood
Overhead.
Let me pray
That painlessly
I’ll be dead,
When the proletariat
Circumverant
Renders its deadly verdict
That Kamanev, Zinoviev
And Bukharin
Were really agents of Hitler
And conspired to murder
Kirov.
Kirov! Oh! Kirov!
Who could be so evil
As to murder Kirov,
The champion of Leningrad,
The hope of the Socialist Nation?
If only we had Kirov
Back again,
So much would be better,
You would not believe,
But they say they
Murdered Kirov
Though they were
Close friends of Lenin!?!?
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
CONSCIOUS CONCEPTION
—Joe Nolan
Donate to the mission
In the missionary position.
Launch your DNA
Into the next generation.
Help an egg to incubate
Into its incarnation.
Become a breeder for Christ
With a maculate conception.
Make it something
You’ll always remember.
When you come together
You both will scream your heads off.
After birth,
You can give up all you’re worth
With a sacrificial paycheck.
All your income
Will be purely sacrificial.
Bounce your babies
On your knees.
Get ready for the burp.
How cute they are,
Even when they vomit.
It only goes
To make you
Love them more.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
TRUST THE SCIENCE
—Joe Nolan
We got the science.
We know what’s what.
We’ve got a thousand poisons
To put into your gut.
We’ve got the things
That kill the bugs—
Precious, precious poisons
To put into your gut.
Call them antibiotics
Things that snuff out life,
Measured in proper doses
So they don’t kill you off, too.
It’s a system of trial and error—
Experiments, a must.
Put your faith in Science
In science you must trust.
But what happens
When we shift to
Warp-speed,
Throwing trials out the door,
With poisons left untested,
New tech
Who knows what for?
It’s a matter of trial and error
And you’re the guinea pigs.
We don’t worry—
We’ve got immunity,
No matter how bad-off you get,
But don’t forget!
Trust the science.
“Safe and effective,” we say.
When you say how
Bad you were damaged,
We tell you to just go away.
Don’t forget!
Trust the science.
“Safe and effective,” we say.
When you say how
Bad you were damaged,
We tell you to just go away.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
CRAZY BOAT
—Joe Nolan
A crazy boat
From crazy town
Rides a river
Up and down
From mountains
To the sea.
Which sea
Might it be?
A sea by day
In brightest light
Or in darkness
Darkest night,
We’ll have to
Wait and see.
There is no
Guarantee.
A new tulip of the need of the hour...
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
RAIN
—Sayani Mukherjee, Chandannagar,
W. Bengal, India
A newborn hope of a beginning
A melody of evergreen music
Right from the bottom
A new salvage of hope of kindness
Earth’s rotten beauty of kindred spirit
Sprang into my ear of misty morning
July rain is falling hard
Over the years of dale and tiptoes
Of milky white morning of summer halt
A new tulip of the need of the hour
A bright splash of sound of music
As the daffodils lay over the window.
—Sayani Mukherjee, Chandannagar,
W. Bengal, India
A newborn hope of a beginning
A melody of evergreen music
Right from the bottom
A new salvage of hope of kindness
Earth’s rotten beauty of kindred spirit
Sprang into my ear of misty morning
July rain is falling hard
Over the years of dale and tiptoes
Of milky white morning of summer halt
A new tulip of the need of the hour
A bright splash of sound of music
As the daffodils lay over the window.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.
―Roald Dahl
_____________________
Our Tuesday Seed of the Week was Dark Secrets, and our contributors had plenty of those for us, starting with Stephen Kingsnorth’s dark chocolate, and winding up—how’d we get there??—with Joe Nolan’s murder of Kirov, plus some scientific back-alley, shudder-ful stuff. Well, there’s plenty of dark secrets out there to scare the bejeebers out of all of us. (I looked it up. It’s a word.) it’s no secret that poets carry secrets—dark and otherwise…
Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week, but there are no deadlines on SOWs. And check each Friday, too, for poetry-form and Ekphrastic challenges.
Anyway, Sacramento Poetry Center’s new Poet News is out (https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/poetnews), and I’ve taken note of a few events coming up, both from SPC and from the poetry community in general:
•••The deadline for Lincoln Poets Contest is Wed., July 16, and for SPC’s next Tule Review is Thurs., July 31.
•••This coming Thurs. (7/10), 7pm: Sac Poets Society Generative Poetry Workshop with Patrick Grizzell takes place—writing responses to poems and discussing those responses. Free. Sac. Poetry Center, 25th & R Sts., Sacramento, CA. Sac Poets Society is a fledgling writing group that meets on Thursdays (except for the first Thurs. of the month). Follow them on instagram @sacpoets; for more information/questions write to them at sacpoets916@gmail.com/. And see also the current Poet News for more info about this new group, too, at https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/poetnews/.
Other workshops that are in, well, “the works”:
•••Sat. (7/19), 1pm: Modesto-Stanislaus Poetry Center (MoSt at https://www.mostpoetry.org/) presents a free workshop, Paint Chip Poetry, with Stella Beratlis. Salida Library, 4835 Sisk Rd., Salida, CA. Try out a variety of poetry prompts inspired by the descriptive language of paint chips. All ages invited. Feel free to bring your own extra paint chips to add to the prompt possibilities. Info: https://www.mostpoetry.org/event/free-poetry-workshop-paint-chip-poetry/.
•••Mon. (7/28), 4-6pm and Wed. (7/30), 4-6pm: Cal. Poet Laureate Lee Herrick's online workshop, Giving Difficult Material Poetic Shape: The Unexpected Joys of the Abecedarian. Cost: $150 ($120 before 7/14). Sign up soon—seats are filling fast. Info: https://capoetlaureate.org/ourcalifornia/.
•••Thurs. (7/31, 8/28, 9/25), 5:30-6:50pm: Poets and Writers of El Dorado’s Writing Words to Light the Way, a workshop with Lara Gularte has three more monthly meetings scheduled at the El Dorado Hills Library, 7455 Silva Valley Pkwy, El Dorado Hills, CA. Click on UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) in Medusa's Kitchen calendar for info.
There are lots more poetry events on the calendar, too, of course; click on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html and scroll down for the happenings, including the ongoing workshops listed at the bottom of that page.
Oh—and happy birthday to Ringo Starr today! He's 85. Ringo says Peace and Love. Well, I can hang with that . . .
___________________
—Medusa
Ducks startled into the sky
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
A reminder that
Paul Willis & Hip Hop Leadership
feature at Sac. Poetry Center
tonight, 7:30pm.
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.
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!
Paul Willis & Hip Hop Leadership
feature at Sac. Poetry Center
tonight, 7:30pm.
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.
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!
