Grinding Winds of Change

Tim Kahl, Marathon of Love reading at SPC

Friday, Feb. 15

—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis
 

HAIKU/CINQUAIN/SENRYU
—Dewell H. Byrd, Central Point, OR

grinding winds of change
frozen cemetery stone
seasons marching by.

(first pub. in The Aurorean,
Winter 2002-2003)

*********

empty
hummingbird's nest
feathers drifting upward
wind-a-way wind-a-way winter
retreat.

*********

quiet
autumn chill
snow bird.


droplets of water
rain on pale green bamboo canes
wind chimes at twilight.

_______________________

WAVES
—Caschwa

We leased a nice place
on the beach where
one could enjoy the
brisk sea salty air

until it arose from
several feet of
seawater that
swallowed our furniture

still chasing the American
Dream brought the cool
advice that buying was
better than renting

so my room-mate
Fiscal Cliff and I
bought a house on
Vicious Circle

on the Lower
Expectations
side of town
very peaceful

because we strictly
follow the adage that
good firearms make
good neighbors

right hand over heart
serious expression
you know that all
of this must be true

 

 Sage Robbins reads at Marathon of Love

—Photo by Katy Brown

OF BROWN

—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

There is a kind of orange tease

of brown, as if brown begs more

defining.  I am reminded that brown

is only in my mind, combined by threes:

color of sun, some sky or flower

of red, with green for background.

But more than this: a sheen

of golden hue laid over log or

rotting leaf, haloed or compounded

until brown eases toward tangerine

and mutes itself...  I'm not so sure

what brown is, this color so profound.

__________________

BLUEBIRD BLUE
—Carol Louise Moon

I will not mention a bird

although you know I have

just mentioned a bird, but not

a blue jay—until now.

It's a lighter shade of blue,

but I'll leave that up to

your imagination

which is a very odd sort of light,

not unlike a blue bird

in flight.

(first pub. in Hart Sr. Center Anthology, 2012)

_________________

YET

—Carol Louise Moon

You say I am so patient,

Yet what of this small slug?  I

Yammer while lying on sable

Yard grass, unsteady weaving

Yaw-of-ship verbiage.  I

Yearn for an easier life,

Yielding—like this silver slug.

_________________

Thanks to today's contributors! See more pix by Michelle Kunert and Katy Brown of the Marathon of Love in a new album on Medusa's Facebook page.

Free hand-outs from the Kitchen! We're still working on Waves, and we're also still working on the Cameo form (see Forms to Fiddle With in the green box at the right). Combine them and send the results to us, and Medusa will send you a free copy of the new issue of WTF which was released at Luna's Cafe last night. C'mon—it's not that hard, even if it IS the dreaded F-word (form). This one is non-assuming and doesn't demand those awful, confusing feet, though you do have to count syllables (which actually isn't that easy; how many syllables does "orange" have?). Anyway, send your wave cameos to kathykieth@hotmail.com before midnight on Monday, Feb. 26. That's right—Monday is coming up pretty soon! Hop on the tiny wave cameo this weekend, and don't forget to combine the wave theme with the cameo form.

By the way, there are also some free copies of WTF at The Book Collector, but they won't last long.

_________________

Today's LittleNip:

BOOK ENVY

—Carol Louise Moon

The unread

on the bookshelf

wanting to be read,

wanting to be blue

like Moonlight Becomes You

by Mary Higgins Clark. 

"Read me in the dark,"

says The Runaway Jury

by John Grisham

the red unread book.

________________

—Medusa

NSAA (also known as Lawrence Dinkins 

at the Marathon of Love

—Photo by Katy Brown