Pages

Thursday, July 31, 2008

The Grail Is In The Seeking


David Humphreys


THIS AND ANOTHER THING

—David Humphreys

This and another thing,
notes fluid in a sudden

flock and feather dip and
swerve, trills and ripples

shimmering, hearts beating a
loud history down all the ages.

Peace is found in the ember
lit smoke of dragon ship fires,

sonata wind in bending grass.
Out in the world, fallen soldiers

fill flower fields, catacomb bones
from a truly great explosion.

Rosin on cello bow, reed in oiled
woodwind, the world whirls in

galaxy tempest. The world sighs
in sifting sand, whispers a nuzzling

fur of comfort and affirmation.
Courage bristles a scimitar thorn.

Ash billows. Thunder rumbles,
kettle drums and cymbals crash.

___________________

Poets from Northern California and elsewhere will be saddened to know that our colleague, David Humphreys of Stockton, passed away unexpectedly last Monday afternoon. David founded the Poet's Corner as a radio broadcast, poetry reading series and audio/text website located at www.poetscornerpress.com. He also published chapbooks and books of poetry at his Poet's Corner Press and hosted a long-running reading series in Stockton.

As a poet, David collected numerous publishing credits, including five books of his own, and appearing in publications such as ¡Zambomba!, Tule Review, Perihelion, Web Del Sol, Manzanita, The Montserrat Review, Cæsura, Poetry Depth Quarterly, Rattlesnake Review, Medusa's Kitchen, Poems For All and Putah Creek. Today's Medusa poems are from David's littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio, from Rattlesnake Press. (Write to
kathykieth@hotmail.com and ask for a free copy, and I'll send you one.) David was a very frequent contributor to Medusa's Kitchen; type his name into the white box at the upper left of this column to see many of the poems he posted over the years.

David's wife, Lydia Fox, tells us that a reading of David's work and the work of many of those poets he published will be held this fall. Questions and comments may be directed to her at lkfox@pacific.edu/.

___________________

MY SON’S BIRTHDAY
—David Humphreys

Remembering such a time of pride and joy.
Look at him now tall and fine taking you
straight back in a bright lightning to your

own wedding day waltz with your new bride;
one two three, one two three, swung round
and round. A traffic torrent rushes sizzles

in the rain soaked street outside. Rosin on cello
bow, reed in oiled woodwind, the world whirls
in galaxy tempest. The world sighs in sifting sand,

whispers a nuzzling fur of comfort and affirmation.
Courage bristles a scimitar thorn. Ash billows.
Thunder rumbles kettle drums and cymbals crash.

And if he is suddenly taken away as he might so easily
be by some hit and run or soldier’s finishing truth of
honor I will fold up these wings and become my next

dark shadow, tunnel digger mole of retribution. I will
rain rage upon mine enemies, beware.

___________________

STRING QUARTET
—David Humphreys

Your hair smells warm is what you said
the night before she played in the concert
like a bird of paradise preening in sunlight,
her cello with violins surrounding delight
as if the bird in a dream of flight
cascade of brilliant sparkling diamonds
against a silk satin gown’s bright light
shimmering celebration, waterfall thunder
to granite and green, soul of transcending,
ascending, supreme, trills of resonant tremolo vibrato,
hummingbirds and bees swarming loud spring,
flower explosion beneath the blue dome
lovely as a swan upon a pond beside her home
where tranquilities of angels sometimes sing.

___________________

Today's LittleNip:

THE GRAIL
—Samuel Hoffenstein

Together we have learned where nettles grow;
Where not the vanished, but the living sup,
What Galahad, enchanted, did not know:
The Grail is in the seeking, not the Cup.

__________________

—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________

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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Soothing the Ghosts


Cynthia Linville


KISSED BY VENUS
—Cynthia Linville, Sacramento

I sink under
panic
taste foamy tears
and hair
claw at slippery seaweed
lose my grip
bang my knee on a rock
barely feel it
grabbed by the riptide
pulled out
under
down
panic again
and then
I stop struggling
and open my mouth.

__________________

Thanks, Cynthia! Cynthia Linville has taught writing at James Madison University in Virginia and at Shepherd College in West Virginia. She currently teaches in the English department at California State University, Sacramento. A former pupil of Dennis Schmitz, she has been writing since the mid-80s, but has recently become active in the local poetry community again, participating in writing groups and hosting a new series, Second Friday Poetry Reading, at The Vox. Her poetry has recently appeared in Sacramento News & Review, Poetry Now, and Rattlesnake Review.

__________________

HIGH CHURCH
—Cynthia Linville

at weddings and funerals
you deeply inhale the incense
but don't hear the words:
you just go home to tend your shrines

boxes of teeth, animal bones
feathers, shell, bits of stone,
unraveled fabric of favorite clothes long gone:
you are an instinctual shaman

each morning you visit the boneyard
of your ancestral altar:
a perfect line of fishing rods
bequeathed to son from father

hunting and fishing an excuse
to visit your sacred places:
the San Francisco Peaks
the Anderson Mesa

such rites soothe troubled ghosts
you offer up prayers,
sage smoke:
your campsite, a kiva

__________________

AIMING FOR THE HORIZON
—Cynthia Linville

I wade calf-deep
in the thin mist that the waves
breathe over the sand,
walking as far south as I can
past the family picnickers
the surfers
the driftwood sculptures,
past the footbridge that leads over the dunes.
(That bridge leads to the house
where Charlie Beck kissed me in the kitchen
the summer I was 15.)
I walk until exhausted.
I walk until the tide forces me back.
A ship on the horizon
matches my pace for a mile
then pulls on ahead.
The surfers and picnickers have gone home
and my outbound tracks
have been erased.
The water's foamy kiss is colder
as I lean down,
pick up a green-veined rock.
Back in the parking lot
a man stands on a picnic table
holding a sandwich above his head
in offering
to a flapping cloud of gulls—
a gesture so ancient
it inspires me
to stand at the cliff's edge
and throw my rock
back into the sea.

__________________

GETTING TO KNOW OUR GARDEN
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

Hyssop, an excellent cleansing herb
beneficial to public speakers, singers
and poets when taken as a tea.

Lavender, loved by bees when in flower,
used by the Egyptians
in the mummification process.

Periwinkle, known as the fiore di morte
in Italy. In medieval England,
worn by felons going to the gallows.

Rosemary, symbol of remembrance
used in funerals and at weddings.
Is grown to attract elves.

Sage, used to ensure long life—even
immortality. Eat every day, or
at least in May. Toads love sage.

St. John’s Wort under one’s pillows
on Midsummer’s Eve, in medieval times,
ensured the sleeper would not die

during the following year.

__________________

Thanks, TG! Taylor Graham sent us her response to the Seed of the Week: Found Poems. She "found" this one on Google.

And the response to last week's Seed of the Week: Sex continues; apparently poets just can't stop writing about it (thank goodness)! Here's one from a poet in Isleton who is new to us, Fred Staal-Robles. Welcome to the Kitchen, Fred! More from Fred can be seen at fredericksr.blogspot.com/:


59/AUTUMN
—Fred Staal-Robles, Isleton

1
Overcast day, the sky a light, seamless gray.
Left work for an afternoon walk.
Now I'm talking to Jesus;
Mostly questions:
Why am I here?
What should I do?
—the usual suspects.
A young sycamore I pass,
like all the others,
has given up its large leaves to the cold.
I collect a few to brighten my office,
carrying them like a bouquet.
A light rain begins.

2
I imagine us naked
We hold the leaves to hide our faces
Autumn spends its hoard
of sienna and gold on our unseeing eyes.
I am burning down with desire.

3
I am burning down with desire.
I imagine my hands on your flesh
I imagine the heft and shape of your breasts,
the dark aureoles.
I imagine your navel,
and the swell of your belly.
I imagine your smile,
your hands, your shining eyes.
I am burning down with desire.
Ash dusts the barren trees.

___________________

Today's LittleNip:

Credo nonnullos hic mortuos esse.
(I think several of the people here are dead.)

Sona is Latina loqueris.
(Honk if you speak Latin.)

Mensa secunda mea flagrant!
(My dessert is on fire!)


—from
Latin for All Occasions by Henry Beard

__________________

—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________

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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Sex Goes On



TERZANELLE TO FRENCH DRESSING
—Margaret Ellis Hill, Wilton

He wanted a cute curvy body and voice
to stir and make his manhood rise.
French dressing was the only choice.

He said he’d seen others’ silly disguise
but it didn’t turn him on. A school girl skirt
made him feel a dirty old man, no prize.

Fake make-up, jewelry, or tie die skirts
ruined his objective want and needs.
He did not want that kind of flirt.

He spoke of conquests that spurred his needs—
how red leather heels spiked his fancy
to watch the ass wiggle, yes indeed,

the walk, the long legs claimed his fancy,
but needed the maid’s dress, apron, push-up bra
that set his thoughts and made him antsy.

A pert little cap, pursed lips, Ah ha,
a maid’s short dress, frilly apron, push-up bra.
My cute curvy body and sexy voice,
Yes, French dressing was the only choice.

__________________

Oo la la! Thanks to Margaret (Peggy) Ellis Hill for this humdinger and the ones below. People still can't seem to get sex off their minds (thank goodness); it's been a long, fiery summer. The give-away offer's still good, by the way: send poems about sex to kathykieth@hotmail.com and I'll send you a free copy of our Sex—For Animals... No deadline.

Time for a new Seed of the Week: Poetry is Where You Find It! Send us a "found" poem—Peggy's below is from the yellow pages, putting words and phrases together that she found there which seem to make up a poem. Newspapers, magazines, junk mail, recipe books—even the thesaurus can inspire. Just pick up one such source and watch for words and phrases that seem to hang together into some sort of sense. Remember, SOW's have no deadline; send 'em along whenever the muse strikes:

SACRAMENTO YELLOW PAGES
—Margaret Ellis Hill

(a found poem)

I have my choice
on page two-seventy-eight
between HERTZ that "has it all"
or THOMAS who is “#1 in High Reach"
but I select:
Ditch Witch Equipment Co.
69 Stillwater Ave
who rents (for nominal fees)
trenchers, lifts, plows,
pumps, generators
vibrators, horizontal boring gear;
has 35 years’ experience
with material handling;
tells me I'd be in touch
with the best for the job.
“Call us first.”

You bet!!

__________________

THE MEAL
—Margaret Ellis Hill

A special table
set for a feast.
No wine needed, no candles;
he knew about light—
a sunset slant through blinds
an added glow to the rose
and in eyes.

He spent careful minutes,
each entree timed perfectly,
served with great care and finesse.

The dessert became the high point,
savored for a long time.

There was nothing left;
he said I must have been starving.

__________________

REUNION
—Margaret Ellis Hill

I caught him on the double-take
checking out my silver sedan.
He remembered the name,
said the chassis was a bit different, but
the wild gleam of the front end turned
his head as it had so many years before.
Standing back, he noted more ample headlights,
fine curvaceous lines down each side,
the shape of tail lights,
no ornaments to change
the course of his mind and
vibrancy graced by silver hues
enchanted even more.
When I asked if he would:
check the differential, oil level,
manifold displacement and strokes,
grab the wheel again, did he
think he could rev up
a deep purring 8-cylinder beauty,
he smiled lasciviously,
and turned the key.

__________________

FOR A RAPPER
—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

Listen to the squirrels
making love
in the juniper
just outside our bedroom window.

There's rhythm there,
for a rap.

__________________

Thanks, CLM, for the squirrel sex poem! Carol Louise Moon and Peggy Hill both have free littlesnake broadsides available from Rattlesnake Press; write and ask and I'll send you one. Or both...

Rattlechapper JoAnn Anglin writes: Last week I visited a beautiful and interesting bookstore in Marysville. You can get a view of it at the website: http://www.amicusbooks.com/

And Donald Anderson and Marie Ross have written another poem. This working-together thing seems to be productive for them. Thanks, Don and Marie!


SHE EATS WORDS
—Donald R. Anderson and Marie J. Ross, Stockton

She eats words! Pages like tapioca pudding, vowels of fruit,
leg of lamb like a book of Chaucer.
The words cackle like hens laying eggs, broken and split from
their crooked claw, and between the lines pungent meats marinate,
slight burnt taste of charcoal, ecstatic tropical marmalade oranges,
prancing hot hot hot, as if the words were sustenance for her heart.
But in the pots and pans grease grew rancid, slipping in mold of
depression, the lid not evaporating the sour juices.
She clicked and clucked, time slipping into the book.
Then roast beef came to visit her, he brought the horseradish; two of
his children followed with apple pie and custard, and in the double-
boiler the aroma of sweet cinnamon filled the air.
What are fries except potatoes! Hot hot hot! What are carrots minus
the crunch, crunch, crunch! If only the words of those novels that she
read growing up, learning to love with the fire of the sun — if only
they would be edible as they are sung.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

SPACESHIP
—A.R. Ammons

It's amazing all
this motion going
on and
water can lie still
in glasses and the gas
can in the
garage doesn't rattle.

__________________

—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Thirteen Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________

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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Monday, July 28, 2008

It's All Compost



DREAM INSCAPE

—Denise Levertov

Mycelium, the delicate white threads
mushrooms weave in their chosen earth
(or manure or leafmold) to grow from

and milkweed silk orioles knit
into hammock nests their eggs
lilt in

and silver timbers
of old barns near salt water—

all of these
dreamed of, woven, knit, mitered
into a vision named 'A Visit Home'
(as if there were a home I had,
beyond the houses I live in, or those
I've lived in and hold
dimly in mind)
that waking
shook apart, out of
coherence, unwove, unraveled, took
beam by beam away, splintered.

_________________

This week in NorCal poetry:

•••Tonight (Monday, 7/28), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Susan Palwick and Ellen Klages for a night of Science Fiction and Fantasy at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Open mic afterward. Susan Palwick began her career by publishing "The Woman Who Saved the World" for Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine in 1985. She currently teaches as an associate professor of English at the University of Nevada, Reno. Palwick's work has received multiple awards, including the Rhysling Award (in 1985) for her poem, "The Neighbor's Wife". She won the Crawford Award for best first novel with Flying in Place in 1993, and The Alex Award in 2005 for her second novel, The Necessary Beggar. Her third novel, Shelter, was published by Tor in 2007. Another book, The Fate of Mice (a collection of short stories), has also been published by Tachyon Publications. Susan Palwick is a practicing Episcopalian and a licensed lay preacher. She also administrates a blog called "Rickety Contrivances of Doing Good" [http://improbableoptimisms.blogspot.com/].

Ellen Klages is a science fiction writer who lives in San Francisco. Her novelette, Basement Magic, won the 2005 Nebula Award for Best Novelette. She had previously been nominated for Hugo, Nebula, and Campbell awards. Her first (non-genre) novel, The Green Glass Sea, was published by Viking Children's Books in 2006. It won the 2007 Scott O'Dell Award for Historical Fiction. Portable Childhoods, a collection of her short fiction, was published by Tachyon Publications this April. A sequel to The Green Glass Sea will be published in Fall 2008. She has also written four books of hands-on science activities for children (with Pat Murphy, et al.) for the Exploratorium museum in San Francisco. When she's not writing fiction, she sells old toys and magazines on eBay, and collects lead civilians.

Coming Monday, August 4 at SPC: Mary Mackey and Brad Henderson.

•••Thursday (7/31), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Featured readers; open mic before and after.

•••Friday (8/1): Last day to register for the Cal. State University, Sacramento Writers' Conference to be held August 16-17. Call 916-278-4433 (ext. 0) or log onto www.cce.csus.edu/writersconference.

•••Saturday (8/2), 11 AM: Los Escritores del Nuevo Sol monthly potluck and writing workshop at La Raza Galeria Posada, 1024 – 22nd St., Sacramento. For information about Escritores del Nuevo Sol, established in 1993, contact Graciela B. Ramirez, 916-456-5323, or see the website: http://escritoresdelnuevosol.com/. Los Escritores is for those who want a support group for their writing practice and who appreciate Chicano/Latino/Native American culture and arts.

__________________

THE WAY IT IS
—Denise Levertov

More real than ever, as I move
in the world, and never out of it,
Solitude.

Typewriter, telephone, ugly names
of things we use, I use. Among them, though,
float milkweed silks.

Like a mollusk's my hermitage
is built of my own cells.
Burned faces, stretched horribly,

eyes and mouths forever open,
weight the papers down on my desk.
No day for years I have not thought of them.

And more true than ever the familiar image
placing love on a border
where, solitary, it paces, exchanging
across the line a deep attentive gaze
with another solitude pacing there.

Yet almost no day, too, with no
happiness, no
exaltation of larks uprising from the heart's
peat-bog darkness.

__________________

WHAT SHE COULD NOT TELL HIM
—Denise Levertov

I wanted
to know all the bones of your spine, all
the pores of your skin,
tendrils of body hair.
To let
all of my skin, my hands,
ankles, shoulders, breasts,
even my shadow,
be forever imprinted
with whatever of you
is forever unknown to me.
To cradle your sleep.

___________________

CANCION
—Denise Levertov

When I am the sky
a glittering bird
slashes at me with the knives of song.

When I am the sea
fiery clouds plunge into my mirrors,
fracture my smooth breath with crimson sobbing.

When I am the earth
I feel my flesh of rock wearing down:
pebbles, grit, finest dust, nothing.

When I am a woman—O, when I am
a woman,
my wells of salt brim and brim,
poems force the lock of my throat.

__________________

Today's LittleNip(s):

Adam was the only man who, when he said a good thing, knew that nobody had said it before him. —Mark Twain

Immature artists imitate. Mature artists steal. —Lionel Trilling

Good swiping is an art in itself. —Jules Feiffer

It has come to be practically a sort of rule in literature, that a man, having once shown himself capable of original writing, is entitled thenceforth to steal from the writing of others at discretion. —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Next o'er his books his eyes began to roll,
In pleasing memory of all he stole. —Alexander Pope

__________________

—Medusa

P.S. Be sure to check out the wonderful two-page spread about Brad Buchanan's new Roan Press in yesterday's (Sunday's)
Sacramento Bee, Ticket section.


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________


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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Each Great Day



SONG
—Inuit

And I think over again
My small adventures
When with a shore wind I drifted out
In my kayak
And thought I was in danger.
My fears,
Those I thought so big,
For all the vital things
I had to get and to reach.

And yet, there is only
One great thing,
The only thing:
To live to see in huts and on journeys
The great day that dawns,
And the light that fills the world.

___________________

—Medusa

Saturday, July 26, 2008

The Mangled Crocodile of Love



THE SISTERS
—Roy Campbell

After hot loveless nights, when cold winds stream
Sprinkling the frost and dew, before the light,
Bored with the foolish things that girls must dream
Because their beds are empty of delight,

Two sisters rise and strip. Out from the night
Their horses run to their low-whistled pleas—
Vast phantom shapes with eyeballs rolling white,
That sneeze a fiery steam about their knees:

Through the crisp manes their stealthy prowling hands,
Stronger than curbs, in slow caresses rove,
They gallop down across the mild-white sands
And wade far out into the sleeping cove:

The frost stings sweetly with a burning kiss
As intimate as love, as cold as death:
Their lips, whereon delicious tremors hiss
Fume with the ghostly pollen of their breath.

Far out on the grey silence of the flood
They watch the dawn in smouldering gyres expand
Beyond them: and the day burns through their blood
Like a white candle through a shuttered hand.

___________________

SYMPTOMS OF LOVE
—Robert Graves

Love is a universal migraine,
A bright stain on the vision
Blotting out reason.

Symptoms of true love
Are leanness, jealousy,
Laggard dawns;

Are omens and nightmares—
Listening for a knock,
Waiting for a sign:

For a touch of her fingers
In a darkened room,
For a searching look.

Take courage, lover!
Can you endure such grief
At any hand but hers?

___________________

THE UNPREDICTED
—John Heath-Stubbs

The goddess Fortune be praised (on her toothed wheel
I have been mincemeat these several years)
Last night, for a whole night, the unpredictable
Lay in my arms, in a tender and unquiet rest—
(I perceived the irrelevance of my former tears)—
Lay, and at dawn departed. I rose and walked the streets
Where a whitsuntide wind blew fresh, and blackbirds
Incontestably sang, and the people were beautiful.

__________________

Good God, what a night that was,
The bed was so soft, and how we clung,
Burning together, lying this way and that,
Our uncontrollable passions
Flowing through our mouths.
If I could only die that way,
I'd say goodbye to the business of living.

—Petronius Arbiter, translated from the Greek by Kenneth Rexroth

__________________

TOUCH
—Octavio Paz

My hands
Open the curtains of your being
Clothe you in a further nudity
Uncover the bodies of your body
My hands
Invent another body for your body


(Translated from the Spanish by Charles Tomlinson)

__________________

PARTY PIECE
—Brian Patten

He said:

'Let's stay here
Now this place has emptied
And make gentle pornography with one another,
While the partygoers go out
And the dawn creeps in,
Like a stranger.

Let us not hesitate
Over what we know
Or over how cold this place has become,
But let's unclip our minds
And let tumble free
The mad, mangled crocodile of love.'

So they did,
There among the woodbines and guinness stains,
And later he caught a bus and she a train
And all there was between them then
was rain.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

PENAL LAW
—Austin Clarke

Burn Ovid with the rest. Lovers will find
A hedge-school for themselves and learn by heart
All that the clergy banish from the mind,
When hands are joined and head bows in the dark.

__________________

—Medusa

Friday, July 25, 2008

His Brain Is In His Thorax...


PRAYING MANTIS
—Jane Blue, Sacramento

The arboretum, a rose garden, swarms
with the hatched tiny green mantises,
bellicose; a conundrum,

her tearing the head from her lover like that:
the mating hilarious, “boisterously merry,”
with such abandon—

they never get beyond “a” and “b”—
he seems to enjoy it more without his head.
His brain is in his thorax,

so he wanders aimlessly afterwards,
small and befuddled.
Sometimes she devours all of him

except the wings. She grows larger
and larger, brought to me
afterwards, lucid,

veiny and taupe, fixing her bug-eyes on me
from inside the mayonnaise jar.
He has entered her totally.

Isn’t that what you want, all of you?
As for her, with her haughty gaze
and enormous abdomen

She’s been released
into the zinnias, which she loves,
and snatches butterflies from the air.




__________________

Jane Blue says, Okay, I'll get in the fray. Thanks, Jane, for joining into our Seed of the Week: Sex! Send me a poem about any of the many facets of sex (kathykieth@hotmail.com) and I'll send you a copy of my chapbook, Sex—For Animals. No deadline. And thanks to Allegra Silberstein for jumping in, too:

THE QUANTUM OF MY EX
—Allegra Silberstein, Davis

You would not
in his measure say
he was quixotic.
By his rather quick flight
from the body of matrimony
he might be accounted
as a Pegasus
though I didn’t die for him—
but I must add
that portion of his anatomy
south of belly, north of thigh
the lack thereof
I sometimes sigh.

__________________

This weekend in NorCal poetry:

•••Friday (7/25), 7:30 PM: Open Mic Nights are back July 25, August 27, and September 24, 7:30 PM at the Valhalla Grand Hall in Tahoe, just north of Camp Richardson on Hiway 89. Travel Hiway 50 to the "y" then take 50 north about 5 miles. The second edition of writings from the Lake Tahoe Writing Club is out, by the way. It's been renamed The Edge, and it’s very attractive: 73 pp, perfect-bound with colored photographs. They are now accepting submissions for the next edition. Go to TahoeWritingClub.com or info@LakeTahoeWritingClub.com/.

•••Sat. (7/26), 7-9 PM. "The Show" Poetry Series for Spoken Word & Music features Brigit Truex, Sean King and 3rd place Sac Idol vocalist Jessica Teddington. All artists (poets, singers, comedians, musicians, etc.) are welcome to sign-up at the door to perform on the open mic. Any youth 18 years of age and under will be admitted free of charge; $5.00 admission for folks over the age of 18. Wo'se Community Center (Off 35th & Broadway), 2863 35th St., Sacramento. Contact: T-Mo (916)208-POET. Free beverages and snacks provided by Crystal’s Creations.

•••Sunday (7/27), 11 AM-1 PM: El Camino Poets meet to workshop poems. All poets are welcome to bring ten copies of your one-page poem for critique. Hart Sr. Center, 27th & J Sts., Sacramento.

•••Monday (7/28), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Susan Palwick and Ellen Klages for a night of Science Fiction and Fantasy at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Open mic afterward. Susan Palwick began her career by publishing "The Woman Who Saved the World" for Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine in 1985. She currently teaches as an associate professor of English at the University of Nevada, Reno. Palwick's work has received multiple awards, including the Rhysling Award (in 1985) for her poem, "The Neighbor's Wife". She won the Crawford Award for best first novel with Flying in Place in 1993, and The Alex Award in 2005 for her second novel, The Necessary Beggar. Her third novel, Shelter, was published by Tor in 2007. Another book, The Fate of Mice (a collection of short stories), has also been published by Tachyon Publications. Susan Palwick is a practicing Episcopalian and a licensed lay preacher. She also administrates a blog called "Rickety Contrivances of Doing Good" [http://improbableoptimisms.blogspot.com/].

Ellen Klages is a science fiction writer who lives in San Francisco. Her novelette, Basement Magic, won the 2005 Nebula Award for Best Novelette. She had previously been nominated for Hugo, Nebula, and Campbell awards. Her first (non-genre) novel, The Green Glass Sea, was published by Viking Children's Books in 2006. It won the 2007 Scott O'Dell Award for Historical Fiction. Portable Childhoods, a collection of her short fiction, was published by Tachyon Publications this April. A sequel to The Green Glass Sea will be published in Fall 2008. She has also written four books of hands-on science activities for children (with Pat Murphy, et al.) for the Exploratorium museum in San Francisco. When she's not writing fiction, she sells old toys and magazines on eBay, and collects lead civilians.

Coming Monday, August 4 at SPC: Mary Mackey and Brad Henderson.


Kay Ryan interview:

Hear the KQED interview of our new U.S. Poet Laureate, Kay Ryan, at http://www.kqed.org/programs/radio/forum/.

__________________

This is Tom Goff's response to Tuesday's LittleNip that included the snails. Thanks, Tom!

THE SNAIL IS YOU
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

If your life’s lived in a cavern, still, that cavern
is calcium, of your essence the pure, clear spiral,
as instrumental to you as are the lyral
strings in the song of the poet. You’re no slattern,

and this is no hovel. Easily crushed it may be,
but it’s what you inhabit, you of the one
smooth mucusy cucumber shape, a kittenous ribbon
supplying your mouth with satin teeth. No slavey,

no navvy, you have equivalents for our organs;
you eat, shoots, and leaf, concocting a scraped escape,
sheer slo-mo èlan in slime and a trailing cape,

your ground-bound hopalong trapped by no brogan.
With eyes, fingers, noses on stalks you probe towards stars,
then retract, for the merest jests of wounds are scars.


__________________

Today's LittleNip:

The cute laugh that first drew him to her became in time a splinter in his brain.

—Stephen Dobyns

__________________


—Medusa

P.S. Be sure to check the "Outward Bound" page of
Thursday's Sacramento Bee's Metro section for the winners of the "tri-ku" contest we mentioned last week.


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________


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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Porcupine's Kisses


THE PACKAGE
—Marie J. Ross, Stockton

He opened the package tied in ribbon;
ribbon of silk, lacy night frock black
and sensual.
She young and energetic waiting for the
touch, the ribbon of heat around her, the
space walk and sigh for another.
Moon quivered, earth shook; was it a dream,
was it transition from will to won’t?
Room spun: he in ego of youth, feeling his body
thick with muscle, with pride of size and technique.
Was he a gift in gray strands wrapped in out-dated
gift box; in the lovemaking department store of doubt?
He opened the package tied with ribbon; he in tight
black thong, muscle tight and rising, red hot and ready
to light the sexual torch.

__________________

Thank, Marie! Marie J. Ross and the rest of today's poets are responding to the Seed of the Week: SEX! Send me a poem about SEX (kathykieth@hotmail.com, no deadline) and, in a shameless bit of chutzpah, I'll mail you a free copy of Sex—For Animals..., the Rattlesnake Press collection of my poetry and Sam the Snake Man Kieth's art.

SUMMER SOLSTICE
—James Lee Jobe, Davis

All night I held her—close, tight—I ran my palms over her, my fingertips, sometimes my lips.

I cupped the little muscle on the back of her thigh, tasted her skin.

My skin—her skin, one must have stopped where the other started, but I couldn't tell.

I put my face to her breasts, her pubis; she tasted of the Old South, and afterwards I was reluctant to wash, for fear of losing her.

At sunrise she slept, making little sounds that pleased me, the way certain birds please trees.

It was Solstice, and later she blamed the moon, but friend, I know better.

I did not sleep, held the moment, savoring it like a final meal, burned it into my memory, in case God never lets me have this again; you never know which night will be your last.


(previously appeared in Sex In Public, in a slightly different form)

__________________

ARMS AROUND ME YOU
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

I refuse to submit to that long punishing slide
from the high crest strange rages have engraved,
and bitter chiseling winds; am not enslaved
by the inertial pull of the downward glide,

ride into no heart nor teeth of no abyss.
Let me decline those nostrums dark decline,
death knells, tolls to collect, last of his line.
Suppose the sulfuric pool, with mephitic hiss,

requires me down, long, soon. But I can desire
to be desired: a designated few
these days, but what days—arms around me you,

great urgency blending what heats with what protects,
the liquidly rising spine, man-part that erects,
engaging the soft gate, the cosmos, the moist star-fire…

__________________

B.L.'s Drive-By: A Micro-Review by B.L. Kennedy

Slow Fire
by Pamela Alexander
96 pages, trade-paper $16
Ausable Press
1026 Hurricane Road,
Keene, NY 12942

What is there to say or write about Pamela Alexander that has not already been said or written? We can tell you that she is the author of three previous collections of poetry, tell you that she has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize and has been a Yale Younger Poets recipient, and leave it at that because, in my opinion, those are pretty big credentials. This is a hardcore poet whose new collection of poetry, Slow Fire, speaks for itself with linguistic delight, leaving the reader begging for more of what she sells. The poems in Slow Fire are filled with a profound dialogue with the rain, earth and American culture; they command the reader to dig deep inside our own lives to face our gains, losses and fears. Alexander writes with jolted precision of many things and reminds us that we simply cannot live in a community of one. It is for that message alone that this poet is blessed. I can only add three more words… BUY THIS BOOK!


Our Historian-in-Residence, Tom Goff, says:

You might want to let Snake-readers know there's a great link to an interactive William Butler Yeats exhibit, from the National Library of Ireland. Just access the New York Times book review section, which has posted an article on Yeats and the exhibit (and provides details of his life, including his late-in-life love life, which evidently accelerated...).

Thanks, Tom! Tom Goff also sends us an homage to our new U.S. Poet Laureate, Kay Ryan:

BY ITS COVER
—Tom Goff

Hommage á Kay Ryan

Whoever says, Don’t
judge a book by its
cover, doesn’t really
suppose the overhead
buzzer’s misled, taking
the lid of the pot
for the part
with the honey.
If just to entice,
to the hooker,
is a catch by the bait
for the barb,
what of the lazy john
who looks prior
to moving on.
If he sniffs the book’s
pages, riffles, grabs
at page 5, 10, or 15,
he’s already got
an inkling, likes what
it’s trafficking. The judge
who’s a cook might
not buy into
the chef’s book, but
helicopter for savor,
just atop the cover,
might lightly brush,
then buzzard
on by.

__________________

Today's LittleNip:

Sweet to its mate: the porcupine's kisses.

—Stephen Dobyns

__________________

—Medusa

P.S. Be sure to check the "Outward Bound" page of
The Sacramento Bee's Metro section today for the winners of the "tri-ku" contest we mentioned last week.


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________


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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.


Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Just Mention Sex......



ONE NIGHT STAND
—Dewell Byrd, Eureka

I will not say again the words—
I said in bed last night—lies
you wished so dear to hear
that made you blush and melt with sighs.

I will not say again those lies
that steal away the scent of green,
words that trap our blithe spirits
and freeze us forever in between.

I will not say those words that bind,
cement my life to status quo
hold false and empty promises,
property of property that cannot grow.

I will not pledge to you again
and swear to live my life with you.
It was only a one night stand,
just motel sex. I thought you knew.


__________________

Thanks, Dewell! Dewell Byrd is a long-time
Rattlesnake Review contributor from 'way up north-state. Watch for more of his work in Snake 19, due out in mid-Sept. (Deadline is August 15.)

Dewell's poem is in response to our Seed of the Week: Sex. Good sex, bad sex, naughty/nice/noble sex: send your SOW poems (no deadline) to me at kathykieth@hotmail.com and I'll mail you a copy of my latest book of poetry, Sex—For Animals...

Just mention sex, and you hear from lots of people who don't normally send us stuff! Thanks, Todd Cirillo, for these two:


ADULTS ONLY
—Todd Cirillo, Grass Valley

Knock at the door
door opens
silently
straight into the bedroom

stumbling over belts and boxers
grabbing, pulling, pushing,
fuck for the next 20 minutes
uttering only
grunts, howls,
shrieks of pain, pleasure
or persistance
climaxing into blank stares

belts and boxers back on
then
separation,
door slammed shut,
brake-up
reflections of possible wrong doings
alone again

my advice for lovers
young and old—
do not forgot
those sweet little tender nothings of the world
such as,
hello
or first names

___________________

ONE-WAY FARE
—Todd Cirillo

Honey,
after sleeping
with you—

I feel
at one
with
the people
who ride
the public bus.


___________________

Taylor Graham writes: A SEX SOW? Don't you know it's too hot for that, in this season when A/C means all the windows open and hoping for a breeze?

NURSERY RHYMES
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

A mother won’t tell you what,
in the dark, a dish does
with the spoon—cupboards
shut like bedroom doors
for the night, only tighter,
as if to lock the stars out.
But down in the barn, the cow
dreams once more leaping
when the moon’s just right.
And listen to the little dog
laugh, remembering his sport.


__________________

Calendar addition for this weekend:

•••Sat. (7/26), 7-9 PM. "The Show" Poetry Series for Spoken Word & Music features Brigit Truex, Sean King and 3rd place Sac Idol vocalist Jessica Teddington. All artists (poets, singers, comedians, musicians, etc.) are welcome to sign-up at the door to perform on the open mic. Any youth 18 years of age and under will be admitted free of charge; $5.00 admission for folks over the age of 18. Wo'se Community Center (Off 35th & Broadway), 2863 35th St., Sacramento. Contact: T-Mo (916)208-POET. Free beverages and snacks provided by Crystal’s Creations.

___________________

And finally, Pearl Stein Selinsky couldn't resist sending us just a pure, old-fashioned love poem:

THE ROAD TAKEN
—Pearl Stein Selinsky, Sacramento

The globe upon my bookcase cannot show
the million miles of road we have traversed
from love's initial pledge through touch and go.

There were times we thought the path was cursed;
we couldn't find each other in the night
but plodded on, until we learned the worst

road-ruts were those we dug,that our plight
could not be helped unless we found a key
to open each to other... to light

beacons in the dark to help each see
the other with an outstretched, groping hand.
Once fingers touched and intertwined, we

finally found that we could understand,
and interpret signs along the way,
bypassing rancor, anger and demand

so that now, I think it safe to say
with our journey nearing toward its end,
that by choosing wayside spots to play

and laugh together, we two lovers blend
so well, we can call each other "friend."

___________________

Today's LittleNip:

Two seconds before orgasm, he thinks of the cosmos ascending; two seconds after, he thinks of his bills.

—Stephen Dobyns




—Medusa


SnakeWatch: What's Up With Rattlesnake Press

The Snake will be snoozing through July and August, leaving Medusa to carry on alone. Then on September 10, we shall burst back onto the scene with Ten Poems, a new chapbook from Patrick Grizzell; #2 in Katy Brown's series of blank journals (Musings Two: Vices, Virtues and Obsessions); plus Issue #19 of Rattlesnake Review (deadline is August 15). Meanwhile, look in on Medusa every day, and, for heaven's sake, keep sending stuff! The snakes of Medusa are always hungry...


Medusa's Weekly Menu:


(Contributors are welcome to cook up something for any and all of these!)


Monday: Weekly NorCal poetry calendar

Tuesday:
Seed of the Week: Tuesday is Medusa's day to post poetry triggers such as quotes, forms, photos, memories, jokes—whatever might tickle somebody's muse. Pick up the gauntlet and send in your poetic results; and don't be shy about sending in your own triggers, too! All poems will be posted and a few of them will go into Medusa's Corner of each Rattlesnake Review. Send your work to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. No deadline for SOW; respond today, tomorrow, or whenever the muse arrives. (Print 'em out, maybe, save 'em for a dry spell?) When you send us work, though, just let us know which "seed" it was that inspired you.

Wednesday (sometimes): HandyStuff Quickies: Resources for the poet, including whatever helps ease the pain of writing and/or publishing: favorite journals to read and/or submit to; books, etc., about writing; organizational tools—you know—HandyStuff! Tell us about your favorite tools.

Thursday: B.L.'s Drive-Bys: Micro-reviews by our irreverent Reviewer-in-Residence, B.L. Kennedy.
Send books, CDs, DVDs, etc. to him for possible review (either as a Drive-By or in future issues of Rattlesnake Review) at P.O. Box 160664, Sacramento, CA 95816.

Friday: NorCal weekend poetry calendar

Daily (except Sunday): LittleNips: SnakeFood for the Poetic Soul: Daily munchables for poetic thought, including short paragraphs, quotes, wonky words, silliness, little-known poetry/poet facts, and other inspiration—yet another way to feed our ravenous poetic souls.

And poetry! Every day, poetry from writers near and far! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!

_________________


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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com). And be sure to sign up for Snakebytes, our monthly e-newsletter that will keep you up-to-date on all our ophidian chicanery.