—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
BETRAYAL
—Sue Crisp, Shingle Springs, CA
We have waited...waited...waited, for the settling
of spring. To see our new garden plants thrive day
by day. To see their leaves reach for the warming
rays of the approaching summer sun.
The nutrient rich soil warms from a wave of false
late springtime days, and the garden settles in. We
take time to settle in, too. We do our daily garden
tending, unaware of nature’s silent approaching
betrayal of our sense of security.
Overnight, she sends her angry gray clouds, filled
with cold wet tears primed to spill. Our tears spill
too. Our garden has no defense against this late
storm. Betrayal is an ugly word. But, this time
Nature has earned it.
WHAT A SPRING!
—Joseph Nolan
Oh, my!
What a spring!
This Spring
Has brought a dismal thing
That makes us all stay home,
Mostly alone,
With our thoughts,
With our daydreams,
With our worries for
Our futures,
Collapsed like tents
You pack away
When you leave
A campsite.
Without a clue
What we’re supposed to do
If this goes on past Winter?
ENGAGING AND EXCHANGING
—Joseph Nolan
Nothing serious—
Merely willing
To engage
And exchange
Over coffee,
Eating scones,
Telling personal secrets
Of overdue loans,
Divorces and payments,
Well-laundered dreams—
All the starch
Gone out of them.
No need to mix
Batches of offspring
At this stage of life.
They wouldn’t
Want us to,
Anyway.
An easy good-bye
Sets us off walking
Back to our separate lives.
EXTRA-CONTEXTUALITY
—Joseph Nolan
The only part
I can’t control
Is the one
That’s in command.
Come aboard my space-ship.
We’re about to land
Somewhere time
Has left behind
Infinity,
Unmanned.
Banish from your mind
All doubt;
Dance the high-wire, tight!
If your faith
Is full of strength,
Enough,
You will clear the span.
CATERPILLAR’S LIFE
—Joseph Nolan
There are caterpillars
That never change
To butterflies.
They have found
Enough to eat,
Very comfortable
On their many feet,
Feel their lives
Are very sweet,
Indeed!
They harbor not
A dream of flight.
Life on leaves
And branches
For them,
Is quite
All right.
For them,
The light
Is just to
Make things grow—
Things for
Them to eat.
They do not need to fly
Happy thus, until they die,
They love
Things as they are.
They bless each day,
And wouldn’t have things
Any other way!
WHEN WE LOSE OUR MINDS
—Joseph Nolan
It’s only a matter of imagination,
Or else,
Of frequency,
How the thoughts and dreams
That flow through you
Might also flow through me.
And though we might
Each claim them,
They’re really
Not our own
And neither are
Our muscles, skins,
Blood or bones.
We shall leave them all,
Behind,
One day,
When we lose our minds.
A well beloved fictional movie character said
“Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are gonna get.."
But life of course for real people is never that sweet,
and especially also the Bible never promises a life made of “chocolate" for believers
My personal experience is that life is really like a bunch of shit being hurled at you
and only having faith in Jesus can help one get through it
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
Jackie Mitchell
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
Only the Babe and Lou and maybe Mr. Engel
know if the two Yankees struck out on purpose;
the only pre-arrangement on my part
was to ask them not to hit it back at me
Growing up, Mr. Vance had taught me
how to throw a drop ball,
so I think the strikeouts were legit
But the Commissioner took no chances:
only a few days after the game he voided my contract,
forcing me thereafter to pitch only in games
outside organized baseball marketed as sideshows,
and I could only take so much of that,
so I retired after a few years
(from Michael's collection of baseball poems entitled Dugout Anthology)
DON’T BOTHER ME
—Caschwa
with your scientific facts,
because the fact of creation
that we witness daily already
supplies us with all the facts
we will ever need to know
we see flowers blooming in
the sunlight, no help from any
fancy laboratory devices, and
lowly tadpoles, themselves,
are the best experts on how to
become a frog.
what more do we need?
first take away the patent
office and that whole profit-
driven stream of marketing
products, and then offer
your testimony about how
one particular man-made
thing has special value
and just so you don’t get
any wrong ideas, take note
of hula dancers, flashing
their diamond engagement
rings through their grass skirts
we see and we know what
the light atop the taxi cab means
don’t bother me
UNFORTUNATELY
—Caschwa
in a better world
the ability to raise children
would come in higher than
the ability to raise money
but in politics, and in public
services, and in drug sales
a board of directors trumps
the private sector,
leaving us with the best
and the worst money can
buy, and no hope for change
transforming people into
rodents who are supposed
to duck out of sight into
their holes whenever money
speaks
ALAS, POOR HORACE
—Caschwa
was in by ten and out by five
cleaned, pressed, starched collar in a box
add a tie and it came alive
small expense to feel like Fort Knox
later, all is permanent press
Casual Friday, what a mess
***
shiny leather shoes and laces
even if no one saw your feet
adorned in all the right places
ready for royalty to meet
now retired, unattired at home
lots of room for bare feet to roam
***
I wore a hat to shield the sun
while harvesting backyard berries
my hands were red when I was done
in case you should pose me queries
no gloves were worn to pick the fruit
I only had myself to suit
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
PLAYING WITH FEATHERS
—Joseph Nolan
I play with feathers
And also
Falling leaves.
I’m dancing
In a mystery
Made of
False beliefs.
I rise in smoke
And drift through sky.
I’m sure to disappear
And never,
Ever know why.
__________________
Back again, busted arm and all, pecking away w/my right hand, and thinking about Memorial Days of the past. Stay safe, and think for a moment about all those who protect us, both in the military and in the medical profession.
For now, still, poetry is mainly online for us. Here in our area, Sac. Poetry Center uses Zoom for weekly readings and workshops. For more info, go to www.sacramentopoetrycenter.com/. This week, SPC features:
•••Mon., 10am: Writers on the Air is hosted by Todd Boyd: RSVP in advance via email to writersontheair.message@gmail.com. Zoom link: https://us04web.zoom.us/j/358106078?pwd=YzdvelcxOW1CNWg2YnBuc05ZYUJaQT09
(Meeting ID: 358 106 078/Password: 025674)
•••Mon. 7:15pm: SPC Monday Night Poetry From Coast to Coast, featuring Tom Daley, Lea C. Deschenes, Victor D. Infante, Tony Brown. Info: www.facebook.com/events/2551030505225138/. Zoom: https://us04web.zoom.us/j/7638733462
(Meeting ID: 763 873 3462 ("P O E T R E E I N C")/ Password: spcsdv2020)
•••SPC Tuesday night workshop hosted by Danyen Powell: Bring a poem for critique: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/346316163 (Meeting ID: 346 316 163)
•••Wed., 6pm: MarieWriters workshop (prompts) hosted by Nick LeForce: https://zoom.us/j/671443996
•••Fri., 4pm: Writing from the Inside Out workshop. Reg. in advance at: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/upwkde-opjkpnyQECAVBKolY4hKCdl61uA
After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the meeting. (If you have registered before, use the same link.)
Also this week:
•••Fri., 7:30pm: Video poetry reading on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at http://james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com/.
For other upcoming poetry readings and workshops available online while we stay at home, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
Our thanks today to our mighty contributors, and apologies to Caschwa, who writes: The form for my poem, “Half Sonnet” [posted Friday, 5/22/20], was inspired by the Sonnette written by Carol Louise Moon that was posted in the Kitchen on Friday, May 15th. That has the rhyme scheme abbacbc, [but it was posted as abbacbc. By the way,] when I looked up the form online, it said the inventor was Sherman Ripley, and the Sonnette was 'essentially a half sonnet' (http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/sonnette/)." So sorry, Carl. No excuses for the typo, and that was before I broke my arm, even!
__________________
—Medusa
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
—Sue Crisp, Shingle Springs, CA
We have waited...waited...waited, for the settling
of spring. To see our new garden plants thrive day
by day. To see their leaves reach for the warming
rays of the approaching summer sun.
The nutrient rich soil warms from a wave of false
late springtime days, and the garden settles in. We
take time to settle in, too. We do our daily garden
tending, unaware of nature’s silent approaching
betrayal of our sense of security.
Overnight, she sends her angry gray clouds, filled
with cold wet tears primed to spill. Our tears spill
too. Our garden has no defense against this late
storm. Betrayal is an ugly word. But, this time
Nature has earned it.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Sue Crisp
WHAT A SPRING!
—Joseph Nolan
Oh, my!
What a spring!
This Spring
Has brought a dismal thing
That makes us all stay home,
Mostly alone,
With our thoughts,
With our daydreams,
With our worries for
Our futures,
Collapsed like tents
You pack away
When you leave
A campsite.
Without a clue
What we’re supposed to do
If this goes on past Winter?
Mt. Everest visible from Kathmandu, Nepal,
for first time in living memory
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
ENGAGING AND EXCHANGING
—Joseph Nolan
Nothing serious—
Merely willing
To engage
And exchange
Over coffee,
Eating scones,
Telling personal secrets
Of overdue loans,
Divorces and payments,
Well-laundered dreams—
All the starch
Gone out of them.
No need to mix
Batches of offspring
At this stage of life.
They wouldn’t
Want us to,
Anyway.
An easy good-bye
Sets us off walking
Back to our separate lives.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
EXTRA-CONTEXTUALITY
—Joseph Nolan
The only part
I can’t control
Is the one
That’s in command.
Come aboard my space-ship.
We’re about to land
Somewhere time
Has left behind
Infinity,
Unmanned.
Banish from your mind
All doubt;
Dance the high-wire, tight!
If your faith
Is full of strength,
Enough,
You will clear the span.
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
CATERPILLAR’S LIFE
—Joseph Nolan
There are caterpillars
That never change
To butterflies.
They have found
Enough to eat,
Very comfortable
On their many feet,
Feel their lives
Are very sweet,
Indeed!
They harbor not
A dream of flight.
Life on leaves
And branches
For them,
Is quite
All right.
For them,
The light
Is just to
Make things grow—
Things for
Them to eat.
They do not need to fly
Happy thus, until they die,
They love
Things as they are.
They bless each day,
And wouldn’t have things
Any other way!
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
WHEN WE LOSE OUR MINDS
—Joseph Nolan
It’s only a matter of imagination,
Or else,
Of frequency,
How the thoughts and dreams
That flow through you
Might also flow through me.
And though we might
Each claim them,
They’re really
Not our own
And neither are
Our muscles, skins,
Blood or bones.
We shall leave them all,
Behind,
One day,
When we lose our minds.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
A well beloved fictional movie character said
“Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are gonna get.."
But life of course for real people is never that sweet,
and especially also the Bible never promises a life made of “chocolate" for believers
My personal experience is that life is really like a bunch of shit being hurled at you
and only having faith in Jesus can help one get through it
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
—Public Domain Painting Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
Jackie Mitchell
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
Only the Babe and Lou and maybe Mr. Engel
know if the two Yankees struck out on purpose;
the only pre-arrangement on my part
was to ask them not to hit it back at me
Growing up, Mr. Vance had taught me
how to throw a drop ball,
so I think the strikeouts were legit
But the Commissioner took no chances:
only a few days after the game he voided my contract,
forcing me thereafter to pitch only in games
outside organized baseball marketed as sideshows,
and I could only take so much of that,
so I retired after a few years
(from Michael's collection of baseball poems entitled Dugout Anthology)
Social Distancing
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
SOME YEARS AGO
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
I was born in the maternity ward
of a local hospital on a certain
date and time. Of course I was
not then a competent, percipient
witness to the event, so I trust
the documents and family lore.
Over time I would experience
life-changing moments of mental
and physical growth, and the
local hospital also implemented
its own changes, including the
conversion of its maternity ward
into an ICU.
In the summer after completing
high school, I was hit by a car
while riding my motorcycle and
was rushed comatose to the
ER of the local hospital, then
placed in the ICU.
My mother was also hit, but for
her it was by the recognition
that the very same room where
I lay on life support had once
been the maternity ward where
she lay giving birth to me!
The good news is, I recovered
and was able to enjoy almost
another half century of sharing
stories and memories with my
mother.
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
I was born in the maternity ward
of a local hospital on a certain
date and time. Of course I was
not then a competent, percipient
witness to the event, so I trust
the documents and family lore.
Over time I would experience
life-changing moments of mental
and physical growth, and the
local hospital also implemented
its own changes, including the
conversion of its maternity ward
into an ICU.
In the summer after completing
high school, I was hit by a car
while riding my motorcycle and
was rushed comatose to the
ER of the local hospital, then
placed in the ICU.
My mother was also hit, but for
her it was by the recognition
that the very same room where
I lay on life support had once
been the maternity ward where
she lay giving birth to me!
The good news is, I recovered
and was able to enjoy almost
another half century of sharing
stories and memories with my
mother.
Social Distancing 2
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
DON’T BOTHER ME
—Caschwa
with your scientific facts,
because the fact of creation
that we witness daily already
supplies us with all the facts
we will ever need to know
we see flowers blooming in
the sunlight, no help from any
fancy laboratory devices, and
lowly tadpoles, themselves,
are the best experts on how to
become a frog.
what more do we need?
first take away the patent
office and that whole profit-
driven stream of marketing
products, and then offer
your testimony about how
one particular man-made
thing has special value
and just so you don’t get
any wrong ideas, take note
of hula dancers, flashing
their diamond engagement
rings through their grass skirts
we see and we know what
the light atop the taxi cab means
don’t bother me
Don't you dare pull that handle!
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
UNFORTUNATELY
—Caschwa
in a better world
the ability to raise children
would come in higher than
the ability to raise money
but in politics, and in public
services, and in drug sales
a board of directors trumps
the private sector,
leaving us with the best
and the worst money can
buy, and no hope for change
transforming people into
rodents who are supposed
to duck out of sight into
their holes whenever money
speaks
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
ALAS, POOR HORACE
—Caschwa
was in by ten and out by five
cleaned, pressed, starched collar in a box
add a tie and it came alive
small expense to feel like Fort Knox
later, all is permanent press
Casual Friday, what a mess
***
shiny leather shoes and laces
even if no one saw your feet
adorned in all the right places
ready for royalty to meet
now retired, unattired at home
lots of room for bare feet to roam
***
I wore a hat to shield the sun
while harvesting backyard berries
my hands were red when I was done
in case you should pose me queries
no gloves were worn to pick the fruit
I only had myself to suit
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
PLAYING WITH FEATHERS
—Joseph Nolan
I play with feathers
And also
Falling leaves.
I’m dancing
In a mystery
Made of
False beliefs.
I rise in smoke
And drift through sky.
I’m sure to disappear
And never,
Ever know why.
__________________
Back again, busted arm and all, pecking away w/my right hand, and thinking about Memorial Days of the past. Stay safe, and think for a moment about all those who protect us, both in the military and in the medical profession.
For now, still, poetry is mainly online for us. Here in our area, Sac. Poetry Center uses Zoom for weekly readings and workshops. For more info, go to www.sacramentopoetrycenter.com/. This week, SPC features:
•••Mon., 10am: Writers on the Air is hosted by Todd Boyd: RSVP in advance via email to writersontheair.message@gmail.com. Zoom link: https://us04web.zoom.us/j/358106078?pwd=YzdvelcxOW1CNWg2YnBuc05ZYUJaQT09
(Meeting ID: 358 106 078/Password: 025674)
•••Mon. 7:15pm: SPC Monday Night Poetry From Coast to Coast, featuring Tom Daley, Lea C. Deschenes, Victor D. Infante, Tony Brown. Info: www.facebook.com/events/2551030505225138/. Zoom: https://us04web.zoom.us/j/7638733462
(Meeting ID: 763 873 3462 ("P O E T R E E I N C")/ Password: spcsdv2020)
•••SPC Tuesday night workshop hosted by Danyen Powell: Bring a poem for critique: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/346316163 (Meeting ID: 346 316 163)
•••Wed., 6pm: MarieWriters workshop (prompts) hosted by Nick LeForce: https://zoom.us/j/671443996
•••Fri., 4pm: Writing from the Inside Out workshop. Reg. in advance at: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/upwkde-opjkpnyQECAVBKolY4hKCdl61uA
After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the meeting. (If you have registered before, use the same link.)
Also this week:
•••Fri., 7:30pm: Video poetry reading on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at http://james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com/.
For other upcoming poetry readings and workshops available online while we stay at home, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
Our thanks today to our mighty contributors, and apologies to Caschwa, who writes: The form for my poem, “Half Sonnet” [posted Friday, 5/22/20], was inspired by the Sonnette written by Carol Louise Moon that was posted in the Kitchen on Friday, May 15th. That has the rhyme scheme abbacbc, [but it was posted as abbacbc. By the way,] when I looked up the form online, it said the inventor was Sherman Ripley, and the Sonnette was 'essentially a half sonnet' (http://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/sonnette/)." So sorry, Carl. No excuses for the typo, and that was before I broke my arm, even!
__________________
—Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
