FROST
—Devin Davis, Sacramento
lots of robins
—the beating wings...
a couple are
sitting together on a limb,
warmer
in dawn sun.
but it's dusk,
just west of us;
and these birds were
facing orange stone
to the north—
they're dying leaves,
attached to a branch.
...i am wrong,
about many things.
________________________
Thanks, Devin!
Today:
•••Tonight (Weds., 2/14), 7:30 PM: Rattlesnake Press is proud to announce the release of Brigit Truex's new rattlechap, A Counterpane Without, and the release of littlesnake broadside #31, I Brake for Wildflowers by Wendy Patrice Williams at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento. Also coming out tonight: Snakelets #9, the journal of poetry from kids 0-12. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else's. Info: kathykieth@hotmail.com
•••Also tonight, 8 PM: The UC-Davis Creative Writing Program presents Emily Norwood, Gabrielle Myers, Crystal Anderson at Café Roma, 3rd & University Sts., Davis.
________________________
More shadow poems, this one a slightly-creepy Valentine poem about a snake, from Wayne Robinson:
HIDING IN SHADOWS
—Wayne Robinson, Lodi
Hiding in shadows, like a viper in the cold
Only hunger will make this night time creature bold,
Walking in the dark side of the moonlight
A silent stalker creeping through the night.
In shadows hiding, looking through the door
Watching the girls dancing across the floor.
The night, the shadows, is for loving,
The viper in me is still hiding.
To be a partner, to be half a couple
To have someone special with long hair to pull
While twisted, coiled in beastly embrace
Stripping socks and colored under-lace.
Hiding in shadows, fearful, a rejection magnet
Only watching, eyeing, is any kind of outlet
For passion tied like strings in a baseball,
For a soundless voice with no one to call.
Dreams of Fred Astaire ability,
Owning two left feet in reality
With too much desire for anyone to know,
So I slither, a shadow within a shadow.
_______________________
Thanks, Wayne! I like the "rejection magnet" concept. And what was that about under-lace........?
Michelle Kunert sends us a Valentine poem. Like me, she seems a bit ambivalent about the whole thing:
VALENTINE CARD FOR AN "X"?
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
Once again, it is time for marketers to push "weddings"
building up the ideas of parties in young crush-strucken heads
along with the rings and other stuff that should be the last things to think about
when it comes to relationships, whether to tie the knot
without stopping to think that half of those bonds end up on the rocks
So I saw in a store that sells many of these retail fantasies
under a symbol of a big golden crown,
one card poking out of the display slot, a card with a big white X
As I pulled it out, it said, O, I love you
I put that back to spot another with a big black dark X
It turned out it said, This an X-rated card for you, Valentine
I said out-loud this isn't fair
because really I wanted to find a Valentine's card for an X!
I was hoping the Peanuts one with Lucy raising her fist on it could help me somewhat,
but quite the contrary.
I said, Don't they have one with a heart with a stake in it?
To say Cross it and hope to die, that I'm better without X
that I'm better without his lies
and his friends whining to me how he was a "good" catch.
I will beat my chest and cry
(though I am to forgive and forget)
And I thought a fine overture would be Sinead O'Connor's "Damn your eyes"
but instead store music playing reminds me of another "X"
if you can call the male diva I once fell for
even though he wasn't nearly as big a name
I learned from that experience with "Michael" it's the kind of love
that you know in public you don't and can't get intimate with
no, you learn you have to follow behind them or in their entourage
no you can't have them ever to yourself the way you want
no matter how much you desire them
and say nothing about all the other women
and when he says you've embarrassed him
(or you know he says it when he gives you stinky looks)
you can't argue a thing with him; he's the Godfather or Mussolini, "Capish"?
but you are to raise them up on high like they are Jesus,
'cause their god is the stormy seas they want to walk upon
instead of walking the narrow plank with the ordinary rest of us
even when they depend on where they wanna go from standing upon your back
So one time I met another woman auditioning for a local play
who claimed she was going to become a stand-up comedian
had picture buttons decorating her purse of who she said was her idol
please girlfriend, get real—don't you understand you're already too outspoken
Please, if your mouth always spouts what you think
don't commit suicide with your career
or rather don't sentence your life to being Mrs. Joshua Groban
(not to bash Italian opera and arias though, and dang that guy sounds good)
or some other guys who brag they live to take the strength that belongs to you for themselves
But oh how our complex is, that we're attracted to those men with such a power fix
Oh, Valentine's Day should be like when you were kids
give every boy and girl you knew an innocent card you bought in bulk from a pack
just like when all of us were equal and love wasn't used against one another on account of sex
_______________________
Thanks, Michelle!
—Medusa
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)
