Now what do you do? This Kermode has lifted
her snout from her feast of salmon
and acknowledges you. What now?
—Poetry by Michael Ceraolo, Joe Nolan,
Stephen Kingsnorth,
and Caschwa (Carl Schwartz)
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joe Nolan
TWO POEMS from Dugout Anthology for the start of baseball season
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
YOGI BERRA
There were some who believed in me,
there were some who doubted me,
there were some who made fun of me;
they helped to make me
the person, player, and manager I was
And so I'll say the same thing I said in life:
I want to thank all those who made this day necessary
* * *
CASEY HAGEMAN
When I was pitching in the minors
I threw the pitch that killed Charles Pinkney
I was very much affected by it:
it showed me a baseball career, and even life itself,
isn't guaranteed to anyone,
and also led me to fight for what I believed in
I pitched little more than an inning
for the Red Sox in 1912 and was ineffective,
so they sent me out to Jersey City
A couple months later Boston wanted to sell me
to a different minor-league team in Denver,
but said I would have to negotiate a new salary:
Denver wouldn't pay me what I was due under my contract
I said I would accept the lower salary
only if Boston would make up the difference
They refused to do so, and also refused
to let me buy my release,
after first agreeing to let me do so
I refused to report to Denver and,
with the assistance of the Fraternity,
sued for the balance of the salary due me
It took many years, but I finally won,
by which time, through interest and penalties,
the amount I had originally sought
had grown to a considerably larger sum
And that wasn't my only fight
I got back to the bigs in 1914
and pitched decently but was traded during the season
The second team refused to pay me
the $240 bonus promised in the contract
I again went to the National Commission
and they ordered the promised payment
Those two challenges were two strikes against me;
baseball didn't give me a third strike:
I was never again offered a major-league contract
I don't begrudge the current players:
having to deal with those who run major-league teams,
they earn whatever they get
—Michael Ceraolo, S. Euclid, OH
YOGI BERRA
There were some who believed in me,
there were some who doubted me,
there were some who made fun of me;
they helped to make me
the person, player, and manager I was
And so I'll say the same thing I said in life:
I want to thank all those who made this day necessary
* * *
CASEY HAGEMAN
When I was pitching in the minors
I threw the pitch that killed Charles Pinkney
I was very much affected by it:
it showed me a baseball career, and even life itself,
isn't guaranteed to anyone,
and also led me to fight for what I believed in
I pitched little more than an inning
for the Red Sox in 1912 and was ineffective,
so they sent me out to Jersey City
A couple months later Boston wanted to sell me
to a different minor-league team in Denver,
but said I would have to negotiate a new salary:
Denver wouldn't pay me what I was due under my contract
I said I would accept the lower salary
only if Boston would make up the difference
They refused to do so, and also refused
to let me buy my release,
after first agreeing to let me do so
I refused to report to Denver and,
with the assistance of the Fraternity,
sued for the balance of the salary due me
It took many years, but I finally won,
by which time, through interest and penalties,
the amount I had originally sought
had grown to a considerably larger sum
And that wasn't my only fight
I got back to the bigs in 1914
and pitched decently but was traded during the season
The second team refused to pay me
the $240 bonus promised in the contract
I again went to the National Commission
and they ordered the promised payment
Those two challenges were two strikes against me;
baseball didn't give me a third strike:
I was never again offered a major-league contract
I don't begrudge the current players:
having to deal with those who run major-league teams,
they earn whatever they get
COURTSHIP
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK
It’s for the birds, this stranger word—
intrusive lens, when loves about—
to some degree, from ‘arch and anth’
or novel study, play of bard.
Courtly love, romantic art
built quests and legends, literature,
the archetypes for classical,
or penny dreadful, opera.
It’s more of bloom that spoke the word,
in art of floriography,
love-in-the-mist or maidenhair,
love-lies-bleeding, starry eyes.
Such bouquets died in faster world,
as did the corresponding mail—
predictive speak of weaker text
with graceless speed, no subtlety.
My lateral flow thinks perverse course,
and leads up many garden paths,
past kissing gates, encounters close,
or pathways crazed with thyme to spare.
Watch Wimbledon for courtship slam,
the magistrates, same bench mark found,
The Winslow Boy for navy law,
but western lore, like this, has flown?
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK
It’s for the birds, this stranger word—
intrusive lens, when loves about—
to some degree, from ‘arch and anth’
or novel study, play of bard.
Courtly love, romantic art
built quests and legends, literature,
the archetypes for classical,
or penny dreadful, opera.
It’s more of bloom that spoke the word,
in art of floriography,
love-in-the-mist or maidenhair,
love-lies-bleeding, starry eyes.
Such bouquets died in faster world,
as did the corresponding mail—
predictive speak of weaker text
with graceless speed, no subtlety.
My lateral flow thinks perverse course,
and leads up many garden paths,
past kissing gates, encounters close,
or pathways crazed with thyme to spare.
Watch Wimbledon for courtship slam,
the magistrates, same bench mark found,
The Winslow Boy for navy law,
but western lore, like this, has flown?
DOWN AT THE SMITHY
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Beating ploughshares, furrow better,
planished silver in the earth,
forks, fresh tines to pierce cadavers,
leatherjackets in the mire.
Farrowed metal, pigs, no blankets,
brittle, unforgiving warp,
threadbare pegs wait twist and turning,
grip with dirty washer ring.
Malleus, the ears are winging,
ossicle to wear the drum,
belt the buckle, smash the crowbar,
scarecrow, distant, keeping stumm.
Sizzle water, bellow spitting,
bicep straining, bow the straight,
temper tantrum, weld protesting,
jolt this iron into shape.
Hear this anvil, cloud and altar,
there the words are smattered clear,
phrasing can by batter nurture,
smithy words are fashioned here.
Red Flower Sex Organs
ONLINE DATING
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
I’d like to submit
An application
To be subjected
To the process
Of selection.
I understand there are
Overt criteria,
Which may
Or may not
Be listed
And hidden,
Unknown-unknown factors
That make or break such deals,
By which I shall be
Unconsciously evaluated.
I understand
And accept the risk
That rejections may be painful,
But like salmon swimming upstream
To mate and then soon die,
Desperate am I,
Or so I must be,
To volunteer
For such misery,
As kissing frogs
Until I find my princess
Or she finds me.
OUR TWINNING THING
—Joe Nolan
Our twinning-thing
Of being
Close together,
Close enough
For anything,
For whatever
Fate might bring,
Closer than
All others,
But not quite
Close enough,
To make
Together—
Forever,
Since our
Twinning-thing
Was just a dream.
We were
Never-never
That close
Together,
To be forever.
IN SINCERITY IS CLARITY
—Joe Nolan
It seems we must shout
To even be heard.
Few will listen,
A single word,
Unless you really mean it.
In sincerity
Is clarity.
People listen
To your bones,
Resonant
With undertones,
Rumbling
From your need
To get it out—
Out loud!
I’LL BE THERE
—Joe Nolan
When you are
Overburdened,
When time is scarce
And there is
None to spare,
When everything
Is overwhelming,
I’ll be there.
I’ll be there
To protect you
From
Your enemies,
Hidden behind
Masks
Of your
False friends.
Strange ways
Are those
That betray you.
Diamonds
Run rampant
In fields of the sun,
While everyone
Hopes to embody
“The One”
While they
Eat dinner
At “French Laundry”
Without masks,
In a pandemic.
Texas Smoke Flower
UNDELIVERABLE, ADDRESSEE UNKNOWN
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Abraham Lincoln’s words at Gettysburg over
one and a half centuries ago to honor the
soldiers who sacrificed their lives in order
“that government of the people, by the people,
for the people, shall not perish from the earth”
have more recently fallen on deaf ears
our whole concern about “people” has shifted
from Americans who live and work in the USA
to the bottom line of giant corporations, many
of which are the conglomerates of domestic
and foreign investors
to honor the dead,
we’d need to take back all that
is our government
COURTSHIP
—Caschwa
learn the ropes
tie the knot
share your hopes
lest they be forgot
celebrate unity
with careless abandon
don’t measure purity
with expressions like “Brandon”
fulfill the contract with
this and that hormone
exploding the myth
of private parts we own
answer as a couple
when either name is called
as if we’re little people
trying clothes on in the mall
—Caschwa
learn the ropes
tie the knot
share your hopes
lest they be forgot
celebrate unity
with careless abandon
don’t measure purity
with expressions like “Brandon”
fulfill the contract with
this and that hormone
exploding the myth
of private parts we own
answer as a couple
when either name is called
as if we’re little people
trying clothes on in the mall
THE TELEVANGELIST
—Caschwa
Jesus died for my sins, so that
gives me a get-out-of-Hell-free card
and I can go around the board
buy up all the real properties
impose godawful high rents
until everyone else is broke
now ain’t that just fine and dandy?
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
EPIPHANY
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Reading piece crafted yesterday,
best unintended consequence
discovered, subtle language gives
unexplained epiphany.
_____________________
Our poets today are swinging their tools with mighty strokes, some tackling our Seed of the Week (“Courtship”), some the Ars Poetica form (in honor of Nat’l Poetry Month), and some just swinging for the helluvit. Michael Ceraolo honors the beginning of baseball season with two poems; Stephen Kingsnorth says “courtship is for the birds” and he attacks it with “smithy words”, helping the U.S. celebrate National Poetry Month and resulting in an epiphany for this, the beginning of the Christian Holy Week. Joseph Nolan sends us photos of spring and songs of courtship, and Caschwa swings his ax, as usual, at the Establishment. All hard-working poets and SnakePals, they are. Keep writing those Ars Poetica poems (www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica) as we celebrate Poetry Month throughout April. And watch Medusa every Tuesday for another Seed of the Week. You don’t need to send poems or photos or art of just these particular types of poems. Any subject is welcome—the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
Sac. Poetry Center's workshops are back in full force, too, as you can see from clicking on this flyer:
Hosted by poet Danyen Powell, Sac. Poetry Center’s Tuesday Night Workshop has lived at The Hart Center for its 30-long years. Now, as SPC reopens its main location in the Cal Stage arts complex, Workshop Nights are coming home to 1719 25th St., Sacramento, CA. For more info about the workshop, go to sacpoetrycenter.org/event/spc-workshop-tuesday-nights-in-person-online. And tell ‘em Medusa sent ya!
•••Tonight (Mon., 4/11), 7:30pm, Sac. Poetry Center Socially Distant Verse features Sarah Oktay and Lucille Lang Day plus open mic. Zoom at us02web.zoom.us/j/7638733462/. (Meeting ID: 763 873 3462 / pass: r3trnofsdv/.) Info: www.facebook.com/sacpoetrycenter/.
•••Sat. (4/16), 6pm: Third Sat. Art Walk Poetry Night in Placerville at TooGood Cellars, 304 Main St., Placerville. Come early and search out poems hidden along Main Street; read them at TooGood Cellars open mic starting at 6pm.
And, speaking of Placerville, congratulations to Taylor Graham for winning Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 November Poem-a-Day Chapbook Challenge for her collection,
November Home! Check it out at Robert's Writer's Digest site, “Write Better Poetry” (www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry)/.
•••For info about El Dorado County poetry events, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/.
•••For info about MoSt events (Modesto-Stanislaus Poetry Center), go to www.mostpoetry.org/.
_____________________
—Medusa (and “I want to thank all those who made this day necessary”)
And, speaking of Placerville, congratulations to Taylor Graham for winning Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 November Poem-a-Day Chapbook Challenge for her collection,
November Home! Check it out at Robert's Writer's Digest site, “Write Better Poetry” (www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry)/.
•••For info about El Dorado County poetry events, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/.
•••For info about MoSt events (Modesto-Stanislaus Poetry Center), go to www.mostpoetry.org/.
_____________________
—Medusa (and “I want to thank all those who made this day necessary”)
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—
and collaborations are welcome.
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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
