Like the Fairy Tales

 

 Fates

—Poetry by Kathy Ireland Smith (a.k.a. Lady), 

Wendy Shaffer, Steven B. Smith, Cleveland, OH

—Visuals by Lady

Wotta daze today is, what a strange begone
No yawn, no scat, unlearned, begat
Eye of old, tongue of new, redo

She pauses at the top of the stair
Drumbeat in her chest
Caught between the up and forward
And the going back
Mother to no one
Swallowed by lack

So we do our done of start to finish
This Sisyphus of sum
Climbing day through night to numb


—Wendy Shaffer & Steven B. Smith

 

 

 

We Saw a Hot Jazz Angel

LIKE THE FAIRY TALES
—Lady

Like the fairy tales I packed cheese, bread, drink
And jam, buttoned my locally-made shirt and
Knew the source of everything I carried,
A proud container of a universe

I locked the door with my fresh-washed face,
Walked down the street where I'd deigned to meet
Every neighbor, pleased with my strong legs
And the proficiency of my backpack

In the woods my mind was resonant with
Candled halos of learning I'd nurtured
Like first-spring food for bees is maple
And the nesting habits of the eagle

More than trickles always there to sate
A pleasant burn, the upkeep of good cheer

 

 

 

On

 

IN THE AUGUST MURAL
—Lady

Your thighs open
Your birthday cake is made from light
Your mother tilts the thrift store mirror
the telephone rings
pennies roll from heaven
water rolls off a duck's back
the world is born the turtle returns
the smiling week leaves its seconds
the church is a brewery
the crow brings honey
the temple is of corn
the sunflowers riot
the earthworm fingers the soil
that nurtures the potato's heart

 

 

 

New York

 

 

DOES WATER HAVE MEMORY?
—Lady

Does water have memory? Is the memory the channel
through which water flows? Does water remember
being frozen, being cloud, falling as rain? Is
water always new again and new again and new? Is
water our substance by which we know newness,
purity and endurance?

 

 

 

Marakesh

 

 

WINTER WOOD
—Lady

The woods' anonymous branches
Are retinas spread eagle
Grasping air asking
Who's there

 

 

 

Ether on Earth

 

ANCIENT MOON
—Lady

Ancient moon
hovering silently so high
nail sliver

Perfect circle portion witness
over chip and wale of lamb fields,
high wolf ridges

Dogs howl and sing,
remember their wolfenness
or sober, sleep in domestic bedding

Cats make their own security
purr themselves happy
tails twitching
like firelight

We look up to the moon
some chalk not easily plundered
awesome, distant, pure
moment of stillness

What is human wolf
to human dog in terms
of moon—did our
chimpy ancestors
look up?

Or is moon
more our thing
used to decorate art
and myth, vehicle
for parsing reality into
dichotomies?

Can we see moon and sun
as features of same thing?

More fundamentally one
than two?

Purr ourselves whole howl?

Shepherd wolf lamb oneness?

Do birds look up at it? (The moon)
Do fish?

How does our
mammal softness
fit
with its rocks
and towering light?

 

 

 

Rosewould

 

THE ROSE
—Lady

A rose hovers weightless
Some magician pulled his sleeve
Peplums of silk bloom

Thorned fingers knit
The sources of fantastic

 

 

 

Forever Man

 

 

TREASURE CHEST
—Smith

On my right, cat sleeps on soft rocker
to my left, dog sleeps on thick rug floor
in between, covered wife sleeps in stuffed chair

sunrise an hour away
lights off
civilization's sounds distant

rain wind moans low
dog snores
gas fireplace dances in dark

I finish my coffee
sigh
gather the gold


—Smith

 

 

 

Eagle Street Bridge

 

Today’s LittleNip:

PASSAGE
—Lady

I conjure calmness
Birds quietly light on boughs  
Path beckons passage

 

 

 

Whiteheart

 

________________________________

A plethora of fine poetic voices from Cleveland this morning, and our gratitude to all three of them! Kathy Ireland Smith, a.k.a. Lady, is a poet, publisher, artist, and surreal photographer from northeast Ohio. She and her husband Smith [Steven B.] spent 31 months traveling in ten countries on three continents from 2006-2009, and you can follow their ongoing adventures at WalkingThinIce.com. Kathy is the founder and editor of The City Poetry (www.thecitypoetry.com). Lady has posted in the Kitchen briefly before, and we’re so glad to have her making a return appearance with her poetry and visuals! Hey, Lady—don’t be a stranger ~

Tonight from 8-9pm, Andy Jones and Poetry in Davis present A Poetry Reading with Lob Instagon, Wolfgang Carstens, and Todd Cirillo. Visit ucdavisdss.zoom.us/my/andyojones/.

 

________________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

Tri-Lady

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!