—Photos of River Red Gums in the
Flinders Ranges, South Australia,
by Ginette Pestana
Flinders Ranges, South Australia,
by Ginette Pestana
—Poetry by James Aitchison,
Melbourne, Australia
Melbourne, Australia
river red gums
gray sentinels
rising from
forgotten creek beds
spreading love
twisted roots
tussling the rock
holding stories
remembering old storms
praying water will again
this way come
gray sentinels
rising from
forgotten creek beds
spreading love
twisted roots
tussling the rock
holding stories
remembering old storms
praying water will again
this way come
power lines
is this where they’ll run
across this valley,
gossamered in mist
where quaint old farms
guard lush treasures,
and will they squat
on ugly haunches
predators in repose,
and will they corrupt
the landscape
to feed far distant
cities
and will no one care?
is this where they’ll run
across this valley,
gossamered in mist
where quaint old farms
guard lush treasures,
and will they squat
on ugly haunches
predators in repose,
and will they corrupt
the landscape
to feed far distant
cities
and will no one care?
INGRID IN THE BUSH
When light of sun fades
The bush softens,
Becomes softer, the translucence
That once lit Bergman,
The soft deflected haze of
Eucalypt-scented air in lazy
Twilight, the dewy composition of
Her face, in wan tones devoid of color.
The day is closing,
Ingrid fading now,
Into the eternal evening.
(First published in Quadrant, Australia, 2021)
When light of sun fades
The bush softens,
Becomes softer, the translucence
That once lit Bergman,
The soft deflected haze of
Eucalypt-scented air in lazy
Twilight, the dewy composition of
Her face, in wan tones devoid of color.
The day is closing,
Ingrid fading now,
Into the eternal evening.
(First published in Quadrant, Australia, 2021)
LOST
There, on uneasy hills,
pastures are appropriated.
And on the river flats,
where vegetables like
soldiers marched, machines
crucify mortal soil.
Morning fences lean into
one last sunrise that spikes
with gold the mourning shed
where harnesses once jingled.
In one eucalypt, magpies are
demagogic in its naked branches.
A farmhouse, beyond redemption,
its chimney brick and staunch,
soon will be devoured.
After pillage—an exhibition village;
an unpretty paradise with plastic flags,
manned by flash-suited locusts,
honey tongued.
There, on uneasy hills,
pastures are appropriated.
And on the river flats,
where vegetables like
soldiers marched, machines
crucify mortal soil.
Morning fences lean into
one last sunrise that spikes
with gold the mourning shed
where harnesses once jingled.
In one eucalypt, magpies are
demagogic in its naked branches.
A farmhouse, beyond redemption,
its chimney brick and staunch,
soon will be devoured.
After pillage—an exhibition village;
an unpretty paradise with plastic flags,
manned by flash-suited locusts,
honey tongued.
Today’s LittleNip:
DAWN
—James Aitchison
I saw the sun rise,
rise into the truth,
the truth of the soul,
and I saw we are eternal.
Dying, I saw white light
at the end of my days,
death’s delicate silence
as soft as butterflies
on clouds, and I saw
we are eternal.
_________________
Aussie Newcomer James Aitchison is an Australian author and poet. Of his 203 books, many are horror stories written for middle readers, written as "James Lee". They inspired the Netflix series, Mr Midnight: Beware the Monsters. He believes in the transformative power of poetry; many of his poems address mental health issues as well as the beauty of the world around us. Welcome to the Kitchen, James, and don’t be a stranger!
_________________
—Medusa
DAWN
—James Aitchison
I saw the sun rise,
rise into the truth,
the truth of the soul,
and I saw we are eternal.
Dying, I saw white light
at the end of my days,
death’s delicate silence
as soft as butterflies
on clouds, and I saw
we are eternal.
_________________
Aussie Newcomer James Aitchison is an Australian author and poet. Of his 203 books, many are horror stories written for middle readers, written as "James Lee". They inspired the Netflix series, Mr Midnight: Beware the Monsters. He believes in the transformative power of poetry; many of his poems address mental health issues as well as the beauty of the world around us. Welcome to the Kitchen, James, and don’t be a stranger!
_________________
—Medusa
James Aitchison
For info about
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!
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!
