Thursday, June 22, 2006

The World's a Minefield

SPRING
—Oshima Ryota

Ah, this world of ours:
just three days I don't look out—
and cherry blossoms!

_______________________

What's Hot Today:

•••Tonight (Thursday, 6/22), Gary Snyder will read from and sign copies of his Left Out in the Rain (Journeys from 1947-1985) at St. Joseph's Cultural Center, 410 S. Church St., Grass Valley. Free. Info: 530-272-2131.

•••Also tonight, Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac., presents Julie Valin and Dan Hoagland, two poets who are active in the Grass Valley poetry community. 8 PM. Info: 916-441-3931.

________________________

Time(s) Slipping Away:

This year’s Poetry Marathon will start Friday, July 28 at noon and end on Monday, July 31 at 1 PM. Each poet will read for approximately 30 minutes, with 15-minute open-mike readings from community members who sign up in advance. Those who want to participate in the open-mic readings can sign up (and should do so NOW) by calling 916-452-5493 or by writing to Bari at bk418@pacbell.net before July 15, or until all spots are filled. Bari tells us that the time slots are almost filled!

_______________________

THE WORLD'S A MINEFIELD
—Iain Crichton Smith

The world's a minefield when I think of you.
I must walk carefully in case I touch
some irretrievable and secret switch
that blows the old world back into the new.

How careless I once was about this ground
with the negligence of ignorance. Now I take
the smallest delicate steps and now I look
about me and about me without end.

_________________________

LISTEN
—Iain Crichton Smith

Listen, I have flown through darkness towards joy,
I have put the mossy stones away from me,
and the thorns, the thistles, the brambles.
I have swum upward like a fish

through the black wet earth, the ancient roots
which insanely fight with each other
in a grave which creates a treasure house
of light upward-springing leaves.

Such joy, such joy! Such airy drama
the clouds compose in the heavens,
such interchange of comedies,
disguises, rhymes, denouements.

I had not believed that the stony heads
would change to actors and actresses,
and that the grooved armour of statues
would rise and walk away

into a resurrection of villages,
townspeople, citizens, dead exiles,
who sing with the salt in their mouths,
winged nightingales of brine.

_______________________

Oh—and thank you to the poets who commented on my "Waiting for Daylight" poem, which I shamelessly posted on Father's Day [see Sunday's post]. I hate it when people fail to credit previous publications, but that's just what I did!—that poem was published in Poetry Now a couple of years ago. Mea culpa.

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)
Posted by at