A LIGHTHOUSE
may be
the perfect
paradox,
empty, near
the shining
sea, droning
at passers by,
beware of
my austerity,
with intervals
of calm around
a captivating
mote. Freud
said, a lighthouse
is just a lighthouse,
nothing more,
the perfect
paradox, maybe.
—Ann Privateer, Davis
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Thanks to Rattlechapper Ann Privateer for the photo and lighthouse poem. Let this be our Seed of the Week: The Lighthouse. And thanks to our other poets today: Ann Wehrman for the poem inspired by last Sunday's firefly, to Donald Anderson and Marie Ross for more of their collaborative poetry, and to Ann Privateer for her poem about sin. Those sin poems just keep coming in; apparently poets know a lot about it...
Speaking of lighthouses:
Call for submissions:
Bay Nature is a quarterly magazine dedicated to the intelligent and joyful exploration of the natural places, plants, and wildlife of the San Francisco Bay Area. It contains writing, photography, art, and cartography about the natural history of the land and waters of the nine counties ringing the Bay, as well as significant nearby areas (such as the Delta and Monterey Bay). We are a nonprofit enterprise, sponsored by the Bay Nature Institute in Berkeley, California. Our articles and features generally range from 700-3,000 words. Pays is up to 50 cents/word. Bay Nature is also seeking submissions for a new, twice-annual "Literary in Nature" feature. We are looking for poems, essays, and short fiction. Prose pieces should be approximately 1,600 words or fewer, inspired by the natural world of the San Francisco Bay Area. Info: http://baynature.org/about/submissions
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THE CROWDED FREEWAY
has seven deadly sins.
Fast fidelity moves
into the modern lane.
It’s an honest roadway
conveyance dropping
shoes into the humility
pool. Today sun shines.
There is purity after six
days of diligent rain
turning asphalt into
a slate washed clean
by courage. There’s
clarity until…a patch
of fur bristles in
the mirror to magnify
the smudge of guts.
—Ann Privateer, Davis
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LOVE LIGHTS
—Ann Wehrman, Sacramento
downhill in darkness
close, humid Illinois
summer nights’ mystery
hurry up/be careful
feet over dew-slick grass,
rocks, gravel
hand in hand, descend
amidst tiny, yellow flickers
merry in the grass
fill the dark valley
with warm twinkling,
unforgettable
in twenty-first century
California, where
fireflies may soon
be no more
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CARVING OUT FATE
—Donald R. Anderson and Marie J. Ross, Stockton
The statue is already there, one simply frees it
by carving the marble, unchaining its prison of rock.
These statues could not speak, but they beckon on prayers
as the wings rise illusively in the glowing morning rays of light
through stained glass windows on high.
If it could step from the pedestal wings flared downward, would they
reflect in vermilion with pitchfork in hand? Wings capture air from
many directions where sky is serene, or from the flames burning of
war. Prepare, lest marble seeks the flames.
An honor of such magnitude is the artwork so fine, upon war time
a stone hits arm and fragments it. Across stunned silence a voice,
“And take the other arm, too!” from its sculptor. And so symmetry
in the chaos, an order to the disaster makes it bearable, yet bittersweet.
In a Roman courtyard, sunlight shines on a warrior’s toga, sandals strapped
to thick ankle, armor gleaming with bravery. If his angular face were
etched in granite, would his helmet fall from grace on the royal plot.
Standing alone, winds of fate blow through now crushed pillars,
an empire defeated by too gluttonous an appetite. Salvage and historians
preserve in museums under golden lights, the tantalizing past lures
many curious adventurers living vicariously on the shapes carved with care,
morning rays of light through tinted glass windows on high.
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THE YEAR FILLED WITH SPECTACULAR LANDSCAPES
—Donald R. Anderson and Marie J. Ross
A calendar panoramic, seasonal, old time city scenes,
what does it say of things: beauty of another place,
ambiance of colors or chill of cold, memories of olden
times, boarded sidewalks, and saloons?
Golden pink blossoms on gentle hills in scenic romance,
like Italy, or Romania, or Madrid, or France.
The cottages leap from the wall, hung there with care,
and sweet dreams lay dormant beyond the images there.
I’ll dance with the leaves like the wind tells me to,
walk on cobblestone on the streets of antiquity, recall
the times in a ghost town, gold mines hidden between
rocky plateaus in the heat of sun.
The saloons will swing with rambunctious piano and
the miners will spend their new-found glory or drown
their sad-luck stories in whiskey until morning light.
3 o’clock morning markets will bustle with new-found life.
There are no cobblestones, they assemble on Mediterranean
streets where sandals and shoes shuffle ancient dust, salty air
and white domes loom. I flip the calendar’s pages—flowers,
beach bags, forest cathedrals and snow castles spring off the page.
Upon the rocky snow-capped caves a wolf’s wild coat fluffs
in the winter wind, eyes looking amber like the fires of mountain cabins.
Precise notebooks clap shut, the day closes on a spectacular sunset
as the calendar rests by starlight on sleepy eyes under warm patchwork quilt.
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Today's LittleNip:
I think that in order to write really well and convincingly, one must be somewhat poisoned by emotion. Dislike, displeasure, resentment, fault-finding, imagination, passionate remonstrance, a sense of injustice—they all make fine fuel.
—Edna Ferber
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—Medusa
SnakeWatch: What's New from Rattlesnake Press:
Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue (#20) is currently available at The Book Collector, or send me two bux and I'll mail you one. Deadline for RR21 is February 15: send 3-5 poems, smallish art pieces and/or photos (no bio, no cover letter, no simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. E-mail attachments are preferred, but be sure to include all contact info, including snail address. Meanwhile, the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
Coming in January: Other than the ever-restless Medusa, the Snake will be snoozing during January; no releases or readings.
Then, in February: On Weds., February 11, Rattlesnake Press will be releasing a new rattlechap from Sacramento's Poet Laureate, Julia Connor (Oar); a littlesnake broadside from Josh Fernandez (In The End, It’s A Worthless Machine); and the premiere of our new Rattlesnake Reprints, featuring The Dimensions of the Morning by D.R. Wagner, which was first published by Black Rabbit Press in 1969. That’s February 11 at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else’s.
And on February 19, the premiere of our new, free Poetry Unplugged quarterly, WTF, edited by frank andrick, will be celebrated at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento, 8 PM. (For those of you just tuning in, Poetry Unplugged is the long-running reading series at Luna's Cafe.)
Also available (free): littlesnake broadside #46: Snake Secrets: Getting Your Poetry Published in Rattlesnake Press (and lots of other places, besides!): A compendium of ideas for brushing up on your submissions process so as to make editors everywhere more happy, thereby increasing the likelihood of getting your poetry published. Pick up a copy at The Book Collector or write to me and I'll send you one. Free!
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 SOWs; 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, or any other day!): 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 and in-between! The Snakes of Medusa are always hungry.......!
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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.