Sleeping Olmec Woman
DeYoung Museum, San Francisco
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
FIRST FLIGHT
—Dewell H. Byrd,
Central Point, OR
Dawn scrolls back the
night
invites the wee tail of a
rainbow…
glory to these old, sleepy
eyes.
The stirrings of morning
nudge night’s silence into
activity
greeting the casual spring
shower.
A squawk somewhere beyond
my window demands
attention.
Squawk, squawk, panic.
Crows swagger with
authority
on the humming power
lines,
challenge a small
intruder.
A pin-feathered robin hops
about,
calls for its mother,
ignores crows
that make false bombing
runs.
A feral cat slinks along
the gutter,
tail twitching. The three
crows
turn on the bigger prey.
Mother robin escorts her
baby to flight.
___________________
ON A DISTANT PLANET
—Caschwa, Sacramento
(I just bought a walker. Added a gun rack.
Now it's Walker Texas Ranger.)
Somewhere distant
on a planet like Earth
women sit by while
it's men who give birth
to great nations
discovery
democracy
nude women on canvas
narrowmindedness
collateral damage
culinary shortcuts
burning the instructions
worst jokes at the worst times
buzz cutting all the pets
shoes with growth hormones
catching fish with hair nets
___________________
IDEAS
—Caschwa
I write down lots of ideas
in the form of poems
some I send in
some of those get published
Others get filed:
Hold Until
Submitted and Waiting
Once I've Been Discovered
Scrap Heap
Not Picked
Maybe Later
Some of my ideas don't get written down:
silent triggers of discontent
verse sung in the shower
epiphanies while dreaming
spontaneous musical creations
outright imitations
personal stuff I don't care to share
And then there are those form letters:
thank you for your submission
one tooth on the gear
has to mesh with other teeth
on other gears
in terms of size, shape, pace, tone
and some other element
we won't tell you
because we don't know
what it is yet.
If a soloist has an agent, is he really a soloist?
__________________
WINNER
—Caschwa
When one plays in Las Vegas
it is not about coming in first
or being the first
it is about beating the odds
When one is making waffles
it is not about what to mix first
or who gets served first
it is about beating the eggs
When one runs a marathon
it is not about being first in the lead
or being chosen to run first
it is about beating the pack
For summertime recreational swimming
it is not about being first in the water
or the first to tag some landmark
it is about beating the heat
But first is sure nice!
—Caschwa, Sacramento
(I just bought a walker. Added a gun rack.
Now it's Walker Texas Ranger.)
Somewhere distant
on a planet like Earth
women sit by while
it's men who give birth
to great nations
discovery
democracy
nude women on canvas
narrowmindedness
collateral damage
culinary shortcuts
burning the instructions
worst jokes at the worst times
buzz cutting all the pets
shoes with growth hormones
catching fish with hair nets
___________________
IDEAS
—Caschwa
I write down lots of ideas
in the form of poems
some I send in
some of those get published
Others get filed:
Hold Until
Submitted and Waiting
Once I've Been Discovered
Scrap Heap
Not Picked
Maybe Later
Some of my ideas don't get written down:
silent triggers of discontent
verse sung in the shower
epiphanies while dreaming
spontaneous musical creations
outright imitations
personal stuff I don't care to share
And then there are those form letters:
thank you for your submission
one tooth on the gear
has to mesh with other teeth
on other gears
in terms of size, shape, pace, tone
and some other element
we won't tell you
because we don't know
what it is yet.
If a soloist has an agent, is he really a soloist?
__________________
WINNER
—Caschwa
When one plays in Las Vegas
it is not about coming in first
or being the first
it is about beating the odds
When one is making waffles
it is not about what to mix first
or who gets served first
it is about beating the eggs
When one runs a marathon
it is not about being first in the lead
or being chosen to run first
it is about beating the pack
For summertime recreational swimming
it is not about being first in the water
or the first to tag some landmark
it is about beating the heat
But first is sure nice!
Mayan Dog Jar
DeYoung Museum, SF
—Photo by Michelle Kunert
PEDDLER HILL
—Taylor Graham,
Placerville
In the trunk of the car,
remnants
of meteor come down to
Earth, detritus
of a shooting-star that
never meant
to end up on a planet like
ours, in a dry
creekbed, then stuck in a
trunk
and driven here, Peddler
Hill,
where your boots grumble
over decomposed granite,
splinters
of wood—cedar,
fir?—shining silver
in sun; random debris
of chainsaw and weather,
under equinox and
solstice, long
after you've found, or
not,
whatever lode you were
looking for;
loaded up and driven on.
__________________
JOY RIDE
—Taylor Graham
I'd go with you but it's
so long a drive.
I'd go but shade keeps
winking under oaks.
The sheep are sleeping and
the dog's awake,
the wagon's resting on its
rusty spokes,
and honey bees are
goldening their hive.
I'd go with you, if just
for old-times' sake,
but it's a Wednesday,
there's so much to do.
The earth is singing, I
forgot the words;
the clouds are passing,
and the sky is blue—
its poem calls me for a
stanza break.
__________________
CENTERLINING GREEN VALLEY
—Taylor Graham
He guides on lines they
painted years ago.
So sure his progress,
steady, it will last
through weather, speeders,
deer, and traffic flow.
He guides on lines they
painted years ago
that make our road fit
tight; a chute, a show
of double-yellow rule,
future as past.
He guides on lines they
painted years ago.
So sure his progress;
steady. It will last.
THREE VIEWS
—Michael Cluff, Corona
On this planet of ours,
Isabel was content to
dance
however she wanted to
with only her flowerhorn
and potbelly silver mollie
fish
in attendance;
if they could think
human-like
they would have
appreciated it
without critique.
On this planet of ours,
Sharon wanted equal
patience
from a boss
who demanded
no negative words
about himself
but always of others
even including Sharon as
well
in it all
and to reserve the worst
of the ripostes
for herself alone.
And on this planet of
ours,
Horace saw that the ocean
had not risen
incrementally
for at least this summer
and that was good enough
for him...
and Sharon...
and even Isabel.
_________________
Thanks to today's poets for fiddling around with various Seeds of the Week and forms. About her poems, Taylor Graham says, I guess these qualify for
a planet like ours. And here (I hope) is an Envelope Quintet (along with a
Triolet—that centerlining machine this morning just seemed to beg for a
Triolet).
In other news, Richard Hansen's surgery was a success! Follow the progress of the intrepid co-owner of The Book Collector (Home of the Snake) by clicking the link on our green board at the right of this (under Poet Nooz). While you're there, check out the other Nooz, including the release of Squaw Valley Review 2010.
_________________
Today's LittleNip:
FROM A SATELLITE’S EYE
—Michael Cluff
On this day on this
planet,
thunder is heard by the
jittery dog,
a piece of inbetween fruit
strikes
some young lover on the
head,
and peace amongst
colleagues
is tentatively obtained.
________________
—Medusa
Ancestor Skull
West Coast, Africa
DeYoung Museum, SF
—Photo by Michelle Kunert