—Photos of William Land Park by Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
IN DARKNESS, TO DARKNESS, BRIGHT
—Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
There is only
Shadow here,
And light,
When I
Reach for you,
In the night.
The need
I feel in darkness,
To darkness,
Is bright!
Bright and dark
And warm,
And carries
Its own light,
To find its
Way in darkness
With its
Appetite.
________________
THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR
—Joseph Nolan
The peanut butter
Was three years
Out-of-date
And we were still eating
From the same old jar.
Of course,
It was from Costco,
And the jar was enormous.
What can you do?
It’s hard to get to the bottom
Of something
So outlandishly huge,
So you just keep
Eating,
All the way down.
—Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
There is only
Shadow here,
And light,
When I
Reach for you,
In the night.
The need
I feel in darkness,
To darkness,
Is bright!
Bright and dark
And warm,
And carries
Its own light,
To find its
Way in darkness
With its
Appetite.
________________
THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR
—Joseph Nolan
The peanut butter
Was three years
Out-of-date
And we were still eating
From the same old jar.
Of course,
It was from Costco,
And the jar was enormous.
What can you do?
It’s hard to get to the bottom
Of something
So outlandishly huge,
So you just keep
Eating,
All the way down.
Standing Room Only
CHURNING OLD SHIT
—Joseph Nolan
I have not the strength
Or wish to be
Living with the wretched
Who churn the past to see
If shit might turn into butter.
I think I’d like
To make a getaway
Far from the descent-dwellers
Who dredge the earth to see
If they might find
A coprolite
From some ancient dinosaur
That died in some night:
Some old shit
Turned into stone.
I have not the strength
Or wish to be
Living with the wretched
Who churn the past to see
If shit might turn into butter.
I think I’d like
To make a getaway
Far from the descent-dwellers
Who dredge the earth to see
If they might find
A coprolite
From some ancient dinosaur
That died in some night:
Some old shit
Turned into stone.
Drop In Anytime
WHIPPED INTO A FRENZY
—Joseph Nolan
There’s no sense invading
Anyone else’s insanity.
It’s gotten to the point where
So many are raw and sore.
No-one seems
Able to listen
Anymore.
TV ads are laced
With drums and whistles.
Previews in the theaters
Resound with pounding drums.
We recognize the jack-boot
Rhythms of fascism
Running through
Threadbare wisdom
Sold on the evening news.
We worry for the future
Of our nation.
If there’s an ark
We need to load
By two’s and two’s.
Fire-Breathing Dragon
IMBALANCE
—Caschwa
Arrest and cuff without showing shield
steroids on a level playing field
armed to the teeth to protect and serve
the strike zone widens when the pitch is a curve
ladies of the night dressed in nothing but sweats
lawmen adopt them as exotic pets
innocent until proven guilty in a court of law
if you look like you’re wood, you’ll get cut by my saw
it is entirely OK for Klansmen to cover their faces at a rally
while Muslim women must shed their burkas and change their name to Sally
_________________
CAUTION—NO LIFEGUARD ON DUTY
—Caschwa
Your only solution to deal with a problem lies in your holster.
You keep cramming things away in your 2nd-story storeroom, but you only have a one-story house.
You try your best to limit what your child can see or hear, and then they get a smart phone.
You have a high school diploma and a college degree, so why aren’t your bills being paid?
We need much less government intrusion, said convicted felons seeking to escape.
Flip flops are a great hit when those dang glass slippers don’t fit.
What if Jesus Christ had first come sometime before recorded history, and the birth event popularly celebrated was already his Second Coming?
GET A HORSE
—Caschwa
There is a point at which, ultimately,
an account will mature and stop earning
a student will graduate and stop learning
a dreamer will awaken and stop yearning
the cream will congeal and stop churning
and our super-charged horseless carriages
just speed on by, windows up, music on,
comfort level set to high, so soothing we
zoom right on past some of the best places in
our own lives that we were hoping to find
again and savor
_________________
THE IMPEACHMENT OXCART
—Caschwa
Two oxen all hitched up
One is somewhat ready to go
the other still quite reluctant
Quite dangerous to commence
such a journey until both oxen
fully agree to pull the cart in
the same direction
A Snake of a Tree
THE MESSAGE
—Caschwa
A two-and-a-half-year investigation
featured a seasoned Special Prosecutor
who faithfully followed the rules as far as
that could take him
to deal with a self-proclaimed monarch
and some foreign interests who do not
respect our rules at all, until it became
painfully obvious that we needed a new
set of rules to regain our old order
and so the Special Prosecutor declined
to indict or even subpoena the imaginary
monarch, but rather issued a slap of the
glove to Congress to set about giving us
a new set of rules, it being within their
province to do so
???What happens next???
do we trust the media fed by press releases
and dramatic staging, or will Congress rise
to the occasion and do its job? Please look
up who represents you and make sure they
truly do represent you
__________________
DEAD ZONE
—Caschwa
Not budgeted to
hire a team of attorneys
a few ghosts will do
one bony hand writes
the period and setting
while an unheld pen
finishes the script
and so, as the story goes,
summer ends. That’s all.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip(s):
MOONLIGHT SO NAUGHTY
—Caschwa
There comes a time when
even hormones abandon
all the rules we set
dress up like pirates
steal our hearts away and make
everything wet
* * *
FINICKY CAT
—Joseph Nolan
I’ll sniff
Whatever you’ve got
And then decide
If I’ll eat it
Or not!
* * *
A CROOKED POLITICIAN
—Joseph Nolan
A gravy train
Runs past his door;
Each day it leaves
A little more
Sweet, rich gravy.
Out it pours!
He’s a crooked
Politician.
* * *
MELTED CHICKLETS
—Joseph Nolan
Chicklets melt in heated palms,
Lucky children learn,
Lucky enough for extras
To hold,
Forgetfully, on summer day,
Held until they’ve melted,
Still sweet enough to eat,
But melted coatings
Must be licked away
From sweaty summer fingers.
What a shame!
__________________
Our thanks to Joseph Nolan and Caschwa (Carl Bernard Schwartz) for their bons mots on this Labor Day, and to Caschwa for photos of Sacramento’s ever-beautiful William Land Park.
Tonight at Sac. Poetry Center, the premiere issue of Transcend: A Literary Magazine will be introduced, 7:30pm, plus open mic. Tuesday from 5-7pm, Poetry Off-the-Shelves poetry read-around meets at the El Dorado Hills Library, 7455 Silva Valley Pkwy. in El Dorado Hills. Suggested topic for September is "absentminded" but other subjects also welcome. Bring your own poems, or those of a favorite poet; or just come to listen.
Then on Thursday, head down to Old Sacramento for "The Best of Me" with Terry Moore (plus surprise guest) at Laughs Unlimited on Front Street, 8:30pm. Thursday is also Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe and Juice Bar on 16th St. in Sac., with featured readers and open mic.
And Saturday will be the 916 Ink fundraiser, Hot Literary Nights, at 3301 37th Av. in Sacramento, featuring words, wine, whimsy, cakes, music, and readings by young authors. Tickets range from $75-$125. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about these and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
Interested in workshops? Check the green box at the right for a listing of local ones which will be held this week and/or later.
—Medusa, celebrating poetry!
Looking Back at Summer
—Anonymous Photo
—Anonymous Photo
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