Thinking, Healing

Thinking

—Photo by Robin Gale Odam, Sacramento

HEALING
—Rhony Bhopla, Sacramento

Take this lotus bloom

Hold it over your eyes,

Your nose, your lips

Its mist will provide

A salve for those grooves

That your tears have made

Nothing will take away

The shadows that come

In the blanketing night

Nothing will solve the mystery

Of what it means to be alive

What it means to be true

You are a particle of the nature

And your weight in this world

Is counted by each breath you take

Breathe out the song of your pain

Let the rhythms of life intoxicate you

Hold all memories inside your chest

Don’t let the salve seep into the earth

Let it thrive in your cells

And nourish the blossoms of healing.

__________________

 

HWY 99 DOG-STOP

—Taylor Graham, Placerville

On the long, hot drive north,

this vacant lot—unmown patch

of grass, an olive tree; ground

littered dark with fruit

that no one wants—wild mustard,

and a strange, tall weed

with spreading fans for leaves.

It waves

an invitation to the breeze.

__________________

BENIGHTED'S NIGHT SONG

—Taylor Graham

I've walked out under stars, until

I'm lost—the land so dark and still;

the sky, the mountains scowling down

with that wordless, primeval frown. They wish me ill.

Be silent now, and wait.

How would you master Fate?

I see no road, no sign to guide

me home. No meteor to ride

across the treetops. Where to sleep

in a wilderness-dark so deep? On every side….

Don't move. Be still, just wait.

See how stars blaze the gate.

 

___________________

yes, we got no bananas

—charles mariano, sacramento
 
have a habit
of scotch-taping a cartoon
at the beginning of every
journal day,
right before i note
the date and time

not sure why,
guess it’s to lead-off
with a light touch,
an amusing visual,
‘steada just reading
my ugly handwriting

this morning,
strangely enough
couldn’t find one
that spoke to me

no cartoon
is like driving
without a seatbelt

finding the perfect
cartoon
one that slays me,
is critical

it’s how i begin, burst through
seed to sapling,
gasping for air, first light

should write a disclaimer
for today,

Big-Ass Bump in the Road,
Proceed With Caution

______________________

Thanks to today's chefs! About her photo, Robin Odam says: I’ve been thinking—crisscross, intersecting, overlapping thoughts. Taylor Graham writes:  Oh, the unexpected pleasures of overlooked & derelict places! As for the floressence, can there be pleasure in being lost? well, maybe in retrospect—after one is safely found. She's talking about our Seed of the Week: Unexpected Pleasures, and the floressence is the poetry form invented by Brigit Truex that we're fiddling with this week (see the green board at the right of this). 

Speaking of unexpected surprises, Carl Schwartz noticed that yesterday's cat photo by Frank Graham has a mug of a dog on the cat's chest—unexpected! In addition to your poems, don't hesitate to send us photos or even artwork of your surprises. The snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

And speaking of photos, we have a new photo album on Medusa's Facebook page, this one featuring D.R. Wagner's recent trip to Bolinas—Surf's Up! Check it out!

_____________________

Today's LittleNip:

You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.

—Jon Kabat-Zinn

_____________________

—Medusa

Bolinas Graffiti

—Photo by D.R. Wagner