—Poetry by Joe Nolan, Caschwa,
Roe Brown, Nolcha Fox,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Sayani Mukherjee
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan and Nolcha Fox
—Original Photos by Caschwa
and Roe Brown
Roe Brown, Nolcha Fox,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Sayani Mukherjee
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan and Nolcha Fox
—Original Photos by Caschwa
and Roe Brown
DRYING AQUIFERS
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Too many adverse,
Drying winds
Have swept across
The drought-crossed plains,
Leaving the land in spasms.
Aquifers
Are running out.
Wells run dry,
One-by-one,
Across a farmer’s
Holdings.
These days,
We cry and
Pray for rain—
Rain-a-plenty,
Since only surfeit
Can ease
Our farmers’ pain.
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Too many adverse,
Drying winds
Have swept across
The drought-crossed plains,
Leaving the land in spasms.
Aquifers
Are running out.
Wells run dry,
One-by-one,
Across a farmer’s
Holdings.
These days,
We cry and
Pray for rain—
Rain-a-plenty,
Since only surfeit
Can ease
Our farmers’ pain.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
SUNLIGHT TO GLISTEN
—Joe Nolan
We are
Waiting for morning,
For sunlight to glisten,
When light
Pushes darkness out.
How humble
We are,
Searching for the
Light of a star,
In our hearts
Of darkness.
I love you.
You love me.
We wash our feet
In waves
Of eternity,
On the beach
We walk,
Along which
We hold hands
And talk,
Hoping
For the joys that
Love can bring.
—Joe Nolan
We are
Waiting for morning,
For sunlight to glisten,
When light
Pushes darkness out.
How humble
We are,
Searching for the
Light of a star,
In our hearts
Of darkness.
I love you.
You love me.
We wash our feet
In waves
Of eternity,
On the beach
We walk,
Along which
We hold hands
And talk,
Hoping
For the joys that
Love can bring.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
BEAUTY WILL PLEASE
—Joe Nolan
Let your poet
Trim your trees.
He’ll cut a cute shape
Into branches and leaves.
Let your flowers dance,
Down on your knees.
Tend to your own garden.
Beauty, grown, will please.
Happenstance
Becomes sweet memory--
A bright month spent in France.
Returning
From vacation,
Find an easy way
To slip back into place.
Remember your dreams
On the morning.
Daydreams’ reverie
Can trace.
—Photo by Caschwa
BOYZ WITH THEIR TOYZ
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
the night before was gusty winds
claps of thunder and falling debris
next morning I peeked out to see
if the usual daily paper was in the
driveway, ready to pick up
what I saw instead was a horizontal
image of a palm tree, wedged on
one side in a cluster of Pineapple
Guava trees, extending clear across
our driveway, and onto the front lawn
a closer inspection revealed that the
tree had not come out by the roots, but
had broken off just above ground level
I alerted our neighbor, who contacted
his landlord, and reported that a crew
would be out to remove the palm tree
the next day; no grievous damage had
been done, and no human was to blame
for this predicament, but we felt the urge
to give it a go and attempt to cut the tree
into segments we could roll onto the lawn
to keep the driveway clear
and so grew a microcosm of community
bonding, with me, my neighbor, and another
fellow from down the street, standing ready
with 2 small chain saws, and a miniscule
amount of muscle
working together, all wearing smiles, we
managed to complete a couple good cuts
and roll the heavy debris onto the lawn,
leaving the driveway clear
the next day, while our household was
sleeping, the crew came and removed the
palm tree pieces from our lawn and also
removed the other segment still wedged
across the Pineapple Guava trees
Empty Lockers
—Photo by Roe Brown
—Photo by Roe Brown
VALENTINE’S REMODELING
—Roe Brown
The surgeon will fashion a pouch for me;
a little hidden pocket to keep my keys
or change or four-leaf clovers.
She is taking down the erector-set
of female plumbing woven
in my belly since I was born.
She’s leaving the basement:
the body’s rumpus room. There won’t be
enough room for a jukebox, though.
My house was never known as a party house.
I kept my walls impenetrable. Never inviting
strangers to enter, kept the yard unappealing.
So, what I’ll do with this new-found place
is frankly a mystery to me. It’s just
another room to keep clean.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Nolcha Fox
Stranded at the corner
of here and there,
buildings sunbaked sand,
no breeze, no bustle, no bus.
A rusted stop sign tilts
past flowered weeds
and hope that wilt
beneath the heat.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Giant’s Causeway, County Antrim,
Northern Ireland
Northern Ireland
—Public Domain Photo
CERTAIN SHORE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
The best of Ulster holidays,
clear widespread space, our children’s choice,
was barren beaches, furlongs sand,
sprawl spanned days spent North Antrim coast,
Portstewart Strand—we sail next week.
That all was thirty years ago—
see all the aunties in one go,
while we built castles in the air
and kids used spades to dig the grains—
so soon we ferry back again
to meet aunts’ offspring, old as us.
Back then we paced in larger place,
the Giant’s Causeway, footsteps marked
by Finn MacCool through channel leap,
while grandad tasted Bushmills malt,
the samples tested time again.
That was our early morning tour,
before we headed for the shore,
and he in charge of kids, while aunts
was call of duty, we adults.
Still, was it whisky, his downfall,
the drams that damned him, fall asleep,
forget that he was charged to keep
his eyes wide open for the tide?
We choose recall, dunes, marram grass,
but close our minds to stretching reach,
the children stranded, left alone
until we found them, grandad’s doze.
They never knew they were alone,
stranded on Portstewart Strand.
Portstewart Strand, Portstewart,
County Londonderry, Northern Ireland
County Londonderry, Northern Ireland
—Public Domain Photo
BRUSH
—Sayani Mukherjee, Chandannagar,
W. Bengal, India
Kernel of a misty lake
The flakes keep pouring
My overcoat, a snowline asphalt
Touchy with subjective glance
Peering away with formless arguments
Movies made of unfazed paintbrushes
Papers flowers hibiscus jinx fairies’ ode
Cups keep going home
Sitting home knitting the sweater for winters
Sipping musk poured into my poem
Making rainbows and greenery smudged
Marking the watery lake house
Snowflakes fine with my life-line brush.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy
of Joe Nolan
BE
—Sayani Mukherjee
Sycamore pendants laden with
Bubbles of tornadoes
Cherry Hill and fresh air
A heaven outside conditioning
A small map of the bridge
Cottaged cared nascent ivory glides
Paper stroked varicose numbered wits
Wheelbarrow and molten vase
Growing rapidly in the new earth bliss
Verify the wayward stream
The white shadows in the morning world
Cuckoos and swallowed nights
Leaden white swan-laked songs
Petite angelic fairy brush
Realms untold mythical
Mona Lisa paintings and mystic River
Simply be blue skies above
A little stream of outside cottage.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
—Sayani Mukherjee
Sycamore pendants laden with
Bubbles of tornadoes
Cherry Hill and fresh air
A heaven outside conditioning
A small map of the bridge
Cottaged cared nascent ivory glides
Paper stroked varicose numbered wits
Wheelbarrow and molten vase
Growing rapidly in the new earth bliss
Verify the wayward stream
The white shadows in the morning world
Cuckoos and swallowed nights
Leaden white swan-laked songs
Petite angelic fairy brush
Realms untold mythical
Mona Lisa paintings and mystic River
Simply be blue skies above
A little stream of outside cottage.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
_____________________
Many thanks to today’s contributors for poems in words and photos, riffing on our Seed of the Week, Stranded. Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.
A couple of notes gleaned from yesterday’s Sacramento Bee: The home of Mimi Miller (widow of ex-Sacramento Mayor Burnett Miller) in Sacramento took a hit from a falling tree during the storms. She wasn’t hurt, and the home is being repaired. The Millers have been strong supporters of Sacramento poetry, hosting the annual Sacramento Poetry Center fundraiser every year at Christmastime. And some of you may remember Peggy Ellis-Hill, a poet from Wilton who was active in Sacramento poetry for a few years. Peggy passed away recently; our condolences to her extensive family.
Tonight, Sac. Poetry Center presents Jennifer O’Neill Pickering and Estela Victoria-Cordero plus open mic. Tomorrow, a new reading series, Twin Lotus Thai Fourth Tuesday Poetry, will feature Mary Zeppa, Kathryn Hohlwein, Victoria Dalkey, Tom Meschery and Kathleen Lynch plus open mic. Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento takes place on Thursday night, then El Gigante online features An Evening with Tim Kahl reading from his new book, California Sijo (Bald Trickster Press). And Dave Boles reads on Sunday afternoon at Poetry of the Sierra Foothills in Camino. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.
While you’re looking at Upcoming NorCal Events, check out some submission deadlines: Sac. Poetry Center’s Tule Review; their new Poet News; and Cold River Press’s Voices 2023. Also: Poetry Out Loud, the national poetry recitation contest for high school students, is coming up. See UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS for info about that, whether you have a teenager or not. Watching them perform is inspiring!
____________________
—Medusa
Many thanks to today’s contributors for poems in words and photos, riffing on our Seed of the Week, Stranded. Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.
A couple of notes gleaned from yesterday’s Sacramento Bee: The home of Mimi Miller (widow of ex-Sacramento Mayor Burnett Miller) in Sacramento took a hit from a falling tree during the storms. She wasn’t hurt, and the home is being repaired. The Millers have been strong supporters of Sacramento poetry, hosting the annual Sacramento Poetry Center fundraiser every year at Christmastime. And some of you may remember Peggy Ellis-Hill, a poet from Wilton who was active in Sacramento poetry for a few years. Peggy passed away recently; our condolences to her extensive family.
Tonight, Sac. Poetry Center presents Jennifer O’Neill Pickering and Estela Victoria-Cordero plus open mic. Tomorrow, a new reading series, Twin Lotus Thai Fourth Tuesday Poetry, will feature Mary Zeppa, Kathryn Hohlwein, Victoria Dalkey, Tom Meschery and Kathleen Lynch plus open mic. Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento takes place on Thursday night, then El Gigante online features An Evening with Tim Kahl reading from his new book, California Sijo (Bald Trickster Press). And Dave Boles reads on Sunday afternoon at Poetry of the Sierra Foothills in Camino. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.
While you’re looking at Upcoming NorCal Events, check out some submission deadlines: Sac. Poetry Center’s Tule Review; their new Poet News; and Cold River Press’s Voices 2023. Also: Poetry Out Loud, the national poetry recitation contest for high school students, is coming up. See UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS for info about that, whether you have a teenager or not. Watching them perform is inspiring!
____________________
—Medusa
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe 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.
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!
Year of the Snake!