—Poetry by Michelle Kunert, Caschwa, Joseph Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
When I was a kid
Family Bible study time came before the out loud reading of comic books
My brother and I were always trying to push for “superheroes” before Bible time
But my Dad insisted that first we learn the lessons from the Lord and Jesus
So you could incorporate those lessons from the Bible into (then) Marvel’s Stan Lee, who said—
“With great power comes great responsibility”
After all, consider that some of our favorite superheroes would actually be terrible evangelists
My brother and I even joked, what if The Incredible Hulk got “saved”
Hulk would still go around smashing things up, but would instead proclaim something like,
“Hulk have Jesus in heart, why don’t you puny humans?!”
But for frightening off and even killing people, he’d still make no “converts”
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
Family Bible study time came before the out loud reading of comic books
My brother and I were always trying to push for “superheroes” before Bible time
But my Dad insisted that first we learn the lessons from the Lord and Jesus
So you could incorporate those lessons from the Bible into (then) Marvel’s Stan Lee, who said—
“With great power comes great responsibility”
After all, consider that some of our favorite superheroes would actually be terrible evangelists
My brother and I even joked, what if The Incredible Hulk got “saved”
Hulk would still go around smashing things up, but would instead proclaim something like,
“Hulk have Jesus in heart, why don’t you puny humans?!”
But for frightening off and even killing people, he’d still make no “converts”
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento, CA
VINYL ISLANDS
—Cashwa, Sacramento, CA
shopping for turkey wings
at the supermarket was like
hunting for classical music at
a vinyl records store
totally surrounded by all cuts of
chicken, rock and roll albums,
pork, country western, beef,
folk, baby foods, and children’s
music
ahh, at last! there they were
hidden in the dense forest
of everything else there
could possibly be
destined to be seated in my
slow cooker, a debut at the
dinner table, then to the
freezer for intermission, and
finally, the grand encore to be
put on the turntable of my
microwave oven
NOT ON MY RÉSUMÉ
—Caschwa
recurring dream takes me to
a huge outlet mall, acres and
acres of shops and parking
zero clue where my car is,
or why I find myself in some
enclosed walkway behind the
stores, each sporting giant
metal gates and locks
I am not there to do any
shopping, feels more like
I inherited a business
enterprise and now it has
fallen to my attention to
conduct an inspection and
note necessary changes
well let’s see: the employee
who already knows the names
of regular customers is a
fixture, no change there
better not to tamper with the
“secret sauce” either
I’ll just attempt waking up now,
so I don’t have to spend an
eternity trying to find my car
THE DANCE
—Caschwa
he put on papa’s pants
to go to the big dance
found a belle in the hall
who answered his call
she passed the little quiz
her hands were holding his
their touching grew a bit
he wasn’t ready to sit
then from out of the blue
burst a hand, howdy do
tapping his shoulder firm
“Not now, you miserable worm!”
he paused, then stepped aside
as the “worm” grinned very wide
the outcome was foreseeable
there were no more gals agreeable
—Caschwa
he put on papa’s pants
to go to the big dance
found a belle in the hall
who answered his call
she passed the little quiz
her hands were holding his
their touching grew a bit
he wasn’t ready to sit
then from out of the blue
burst a hand, howdy do
tapping his shoulder firm
“Not now, you miserable worm!”
he paused, then stepped aside
as the “worm” grinned very wide
the outcome was foreseeable
there were no more gals agreeable
“JUST WAIT!” SAID THE MONK
—Joseph Nolan
“Just wait,” said the monk,
“Just wait!
You haven’t run out of time,
Yet.
Perhaps the next person
Getting off the bus
On bus-line 555
Will, as she drops down the steps,
Smile at you
And you will be blessed
With true-love,
Forever-after.
Heaven-on-Earth,
True-love can be.
More eternal
Than empty
Rumps of castles,
Long ago abandoned
With the advent of cannon.”
—Joseph Nolan
“Just wait,” said the monk,
“Just wait!
You haven’t run out of time,
Yet.
Perhaps the next person
Getting off the bus
On bus-line 555
Will, as she drops down the steps,
Smile at you
And you will be blessed
With true-love,
Forever-after.
Heaven-on-Earth,
True-love can be.
More eternal
Than empty
Rumps of castles,
Long ago abandoned
With the advent of cannon.”
AN APPLE FOR BELOVED HORSE
—Joseph Nolan
I keep an apple in my pocket
To feed a horse
I pass
On windy road.
I know
She loves me,
For a little moment,
In space of taste and touch.
I stroke her nose
While she chews.
I love her so much!
I do not count
What I lose
Each time
We’re together.
Her nose is brown,
Its hair is short.
She chews my apple quietly
And when I’ve gone,
She waits for me
To come, again!
HOW SOUR ARE ASHES!
—Joseph Nolan
How sour are ashes!
Signs of annihilation,
Blown from home to home
As burning embers.
Searing pain remembers
What has burned away,
Leaving only ashes
Starkly mourning,
The sourest clear morning
Of ashes on the day!
—Joseph Nolan
How sour are ashes!
Signs of annihilation,
Blown from home to home
As burning embers.
Searing pain remembers
What has burned away,
Leaving only ashes
Starkly mourning,
The sourest clear morning
Of ashes on the day!
CONSENTING TO MARRIAGE
—Joseph Nolan
Would you hire
That woman
—Over there——
To fulfill her destiny
By your side
As your wife?
She would laugh with her friends,
Her smile more beautiful than the sky,
Her laughter thrill you
With its bubbles
Swirling on your skin,
As they rose to meet the air.
She would bear your children
And fill you with cares
And grave concerns,
As well as love,
The love that parents feel
That flows on through the years
Like a river
That knows both its source
And its mouth.
You’d have to work to feed them all,
Very hard
And you would learn
How compost feels
When it is eaten by worms.
Rocket Trike
Today’s LittleNip:
SWAMIJI
—Joseph Nolan
Swamiji,
Art thou That?
Hast thou ever been,
Continuously?
Art thou now,
Free?
Jivan mukti?
Is there any hope
For such as me,
Swamiji?
____________________
Good Thanksgiving Week to you from here at the Kitchen table, and thanks to our contributors this morning for starting the week off right! Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) says his “Not On My Résumé” was “triggered by the recent references to dreams made by other poets in the Kitchen”. I think we all think we’re living in a dream right now, and I don’t mean that in a good way… I’ve posted some of Joseph Nolan’s space visuals in honor of the recent blast-off to the International Space Station. And in case you’re still working on your Christmas List (our Seed of the Week), Michelle Kunert sent a link for you to write Santa a letter: www.macys.com/social/believe/write-a-letter/
California Federation of Chaparral Poets (CFCP) is a historic poetry organization which used to have chapters up and down the state, monthly and annual contests, an annual convention… lots of stuff for poets. Right now it’s down to two annual contests, but here are some updates from Sue Daly, who is currently on the Board:
CFCP sponsors only two annual contests now, not any monthly ones (note that some of CFCP’s website’s pages haven’t been updated yet). For 2021, there is one contest for adults and one for students, and they are accepting submissions for those contests now, with deadlines of February 14, 2021 for students, and January 31, 2021 for adults.
Here are links to each contest form (students and adults), and CFCP also has a Facebook page, entitled “California Federation of Chaparral Poets”:
www.chaparralpoets.org/PDFs/AnnualContest21.pdf
www.chaparralpoets.org/PDFs/StudentContest21.pdf
CFCP also has a hand in the quarterly Song of the San Joaquin, a lovely journal that wants SJ Valley writers writing about subjects pertaining to the San Joaquin Valley—but that’s all pretty broad, and surely you fit in there somewhere. (Think rivers, fields, birds, etc.) Submission deadlines for SSJ are March 15 for Spring; June 15 for Summer; September 15 for Fall; December 15 for Winter. See www.chaparralpoets.org/SSJsubmissionGuide.html for submission guidelines. There’s a deadline coming up Dec. 15!
___________________
—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.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
