Bee at Weedflower
—Photo by Joyce Odam
SPRING
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento
twirp twirp
twirp twirp
chitter chitter chitter
chip chirp
twirp
twirp twirp twirp
thrun- n
thrun-n thrun-n
chitter
chitter chitter
twirp
chrrrr
chrrrr chrrrr
chirp chirp
chee-er
chee-er chee-er
chir-r
chir-r chir-r chir-r
chip
chirp
twirp
twirp twirp twirp
_________________________
SHOULD I BELIEVE IN SPRING
—Joyce Odam
I heard the birds singing
today
under my sadness
and I said,
Should I believe in spring?
Permit feeling?
And the birds were oblivious
to my thought
and they sang in the tree
by my house
where I hung clothes
under a cloudy sky
and I said,
Should I believe
in possibility?
This singing is so
pleasurable.
And the birds
sang through my reluctance
to permit joy to enter my
heart
and I said,
Should I permit my heart to
open to anything again?
And the birds
continued singing
in the tree by my house
and I said,
Should I linger at this chore
and enjoy the singing?
And the birds continued,
oh, continued, singing.
(first pub. in Acorn, 1996 and Senior Magazine, 2002)
_______________________________
THE ENDANGERED PLACES
—Joyce Odam
—Joyce Odam
In late
summer
I pinch off
the yellow heads
of
dandelions
that in
spring were much too rare,
throwing
the sun back, as they did,
to my dark
eye.
This
morning I
killed
twelve of them
without a
qualm
which had
been learning
to populate
my lawn.
I am tired
of
beautiful,
weedy faces
in such
overwhelming number
that so
quickly
shake their
heads
and fly
their seed.
I must
begin
somewhere
to
unencumber the endangered places.
—Photo by Joyce Odam
IF WE COULD TOUCH COLOR,
what would we feel—
what new sensation
for our lack of feeling . . .
what does numbness know of touch,
what not to trust of the brightest red,
the hottest yellow, the saddest blue . . .
how could we not bruise
the softest pastel,
the subtle fading against all texture,
the quietness of white . . .
and how not be overwhelmed by
the heaviest of tones that are almost black,
that throb in backgrounds
and cut against edges of completion—
as against frames . . .
why would we enter
such a strange unknown,
except for
some need that is never satisfied:
the wanting to blend—
become part of that which thrills us . . .
(based on "Another Spring
Uncovered" by May Sarton)
—Joyce Odam
______________________
PEACE OFFERING
—Joyce Odam
Oh, to keep it
simple—no more embroil our
discontent in
public scrutiny or private enmity,
get past the sulk
and rage that are habitual.
Let us both be
weary of the war we wage—
no matter who
might win or lose. It does not
matter any more.
Let’s put the war aside
while we inspect
this day for grace and purity.
The birds are
singing in the trees, and I would
listen to them, and
just feel the scented air and
light, erase the
tension from my face, and yours.
Give me your hand
and let us see if all is well
with things
outside our lives. I feel a difference
in me—I want you
to feel it, too—
come with me
while we can—It’s spring.
__________________________
Thanks to Joyce Odam for today's delicious May Day post! Joyce's poetry is full of the senses—all five of them—and that's what struck me about Stephen Vincent Benét's poem which I posted last Sunday, how he used all five senses. So our Seed of the Week is All Five Senses: see if you can incorporate all five of them into a poem, and send your sensible results to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though: find more of them than you can shake a pencil at up there on the green board in Calliope's Closet under the Snake on a Rod. While you're on the green board, scroll around for other writing prompts, too, like the News-SOWs. And Joyce's LittleNip today is a Sextilla, which is this week's Form to Fiddle With—also on the green board, along with a link to get you started.
Kate Asche writes that Sacramento Magazine has an article by Corinne Litchfield about the Sacramento/Davis writing scene. Check it out!
And we have a new photo album on Medusa's Facebook page; this one (by Michelle Kunert) features the Food Bank Benefit held at Sac. Poetry Center last night. Thanks, Michelle!
And we have a new photo album on Medusa's Facebook page; this one (by Michelle Kunert) features the Food Bank Benefit held at Sac. Poetry Center last night. Thanks, Michelle!
__________________________
Today's LittleNip:
RESURGENCE ~ ~ ~
—Joyce Odam
Days
slowly lengthen; something turns
with
new direction. All that yearns
feels
for the surface—is renewed
as
mental hibernation ends
and
energies revive. Life sends
an ancient message. Spring is cued.
_________________________
—Medusa
Orange Weed-Flowers Against Logs
—Photo by Joyce Odam
