—Anonymous Art Courtesy of D.R. Wagner, Locke, CA
RITES OF PASSAGE
—Eamonn Stewart, Belfast, Ireland
A heap of thawing music
Where once we boys went lilting along to the outdoor latrines
The leaky waterpipe that sprayed a rainbow when the sun struck just right
The soil patch where we planted potatoes now looks like a Triffid’s hotel
Voice slurred by legal highs sounding like the voice of the Mysterons
When The Cross was the stick in the crocodile’s mouth
Sinister as a numbers channel—the times tables and my dyscalculia
Marbles become bottles then Batavian Tears
Ice-cream headaches to hangovers
They’ve transcended themselves, but the self remains.
—Eamonn Stewart, Belfast, Ireland
A heap of thawing music
Where once we boys went lilting along to the outdoor latrines
The leaky waterpipe that sprayed a rainbow when the sun struck just right
The soil patch where we planted potatoes now looks like a Triffid’s hotel
Voice slurred by legal highs sounding like the voice of the Mysterons
When The Cross was the stick in the crocodile’s mouth
Sinister as a numbers channel—the times tables and my dyscalculia
Marbles become bottles then Batavian Tears
Ice-cream headaches to hangovers
They’ve transcended themselves, but the self remains.
Autumn
—Photo by Patty Knittel
A SEASON NIGH
—Patty Knittel, Paradise, CA
Scents waft
Of leaves spent
Green used up
Leaving gold treasure
Listening
My ears perk
A bird song floats
Sending her farewell
Open wide
My eyes observe
Whirlybirds dropping
Maple trees bowing
Mother Earth beckons
The air cools
Almost time to rest
Behold, Autumn
—Anonymous Illustration Provided by
D.R. Wagner
DRY BROWN LEAVES
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Gathered in the tall trees
Random harmony, tones in all keys
They can’t take the freeze
Or very much breeze
Cluttered on the street and driveway
Tiny whirlwinds visit to play
Motor vehicles have the last say
Crunching, smashing all through the day
Get out of bed, for Heaven’s sake!
Put on some clothes and grab a rake
Spend endless hours without a break
Wary of fallen leaves that can hide a snake
Congratulations, you’ve amassed several piles
Keeping storm gutters clear for miles and miles
Meteorologists now show off clips from their files
Huge air pressure changes erase fair weather smiles
But your work is done, put the rake in the shed
Hang up your clothes and get back in bed
Don’t let some leaves get into your head
Dream of hot tea and warm slippers instead
Clouds
—Photo by Patty Knittel
Today’s LittleNip:
TIME
—Patty Knittel
Time falls to earth
Like spent flower petals
Memory fading
As color turns to brown
Grasping a moment
As if a cloud
Passing by
Could be held
__________________
Our thanks to today’s contributors, and welcome back to Eamonn Stewart, all the way from Belfast! About his poem, Eamonn writes: “The poem is about visiting my old school—mostly abandoned, except for a corner that is used as a day centre for homeless people. The people I write about—who are abusing drugs and alcohol—are well known to me and attended the school as 4-year-olds, 50 years ago.” Eamonn was featured in Medusa’s Kitchen on June 11 of this year.
Patty Knittel is writing to us for the first time today—all the way from Paradise! Well, Paradise, California, anyway; she’s a pal and co-poet with Maria Rosales, whose work has appeared in the Kitchen of late. Welcome, Patty, and thanks for your photos and poems! Don’t be a stranger!
Our thanks, also, to Caschwa (Carl Bernard Schwartz) for his cozy dreams of hot tea and warm slippers, marking the beginning of the cold season here. About yesterday’s poem about WWI by Philip Larkin, "MCMXIV" (1914), he says, “My parents (now deceased) were both born in the same decade as the War to End All Wars and so the speech and mannerisms found in the household where they raised 3 sons embodied the same kind of “right pieces, wrong puzzle” enigma suggested by Philip Larkin. My father, particularly, who served in the CBs at Normandy during WWII, had already seen the fallacy of the myth that having a world war is the final solution to prevent more war, and so wasn’t at all hawkish about having his sons join up.”
And thanks to D.R. Wagner for these two pictures. Last Saturday in the Kitchen marked the beginning of D.R. Wagner’s “sabbatical” while he gets some of his numerous other projects finished, and he’ll be missed. Hopefully he'll pop in from time to time.
Poetry readings in our area this week begin tonight with Jeanine Stevens and Joe Nolan plus open mic at the Sacramento Poetry Center, 7:30pm. Thursday will be busy, starting with Third Thursdays at the Central Library at noon in Sacramento, then a choice of Izzy Lala plus open mic at Luna’s Cafe in Sac., 8pm, or Lynn Freed plus open mic at John Natsoulas Gallery in Davis, also at 8pm.
Friday at 7pm, Speak Up Storytelling and Poetry meets at The Avid Reader in Sac., and The Other Voice in Davis presents Andy Jones and Traci Gourdine plus open mic, 7:30pm. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
—Medusa
Celebrate poetry—and the new beginning that is Monday!
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