My Name is Fury

 

A Thought to Ponder

—Poetry by Joyce Odam and Robin Gale Odam,

Sacramento, CA

—Photos by Robin Gale Odam

 

 

 

ONCE THERE WAS A NAME
—Joyce Odam

Once there was a name that needed blame.
It had no chance, it could not choose nor
pick a mood from which it came—it
had no lie to change to true, just
a defence to hide behind :
my name is Beauty . . .
my name is Diamond . . .
my name is Gorgeous, none of
which caught on . . . my name is Fury now. 

 

 

 

Then and Now

 

 

THUS COMPOSED
—Robin Gale Odam

the ring around my heart,
the long summer, the winter bell,
I've lost most of it now

birds outside the window, the flight
of words, another sunrise—the poetry
of consolation

 

 

 

Simply Turn the Hours

 

 

COUNTER-CLOCKWISE
—Robin Gale Odam

Today I will write
from yesterday—I will
simply turn the hours
counter-clockwise,

watching for what has
come to pass through my
fury—a vexing search for
temperance. Or the one
flailing character flaw.

Or one tick of space held
in the transition of the hour
hand. Or the one grain of sand
fixed in the hourglass.

__________________

THE FIERCENESS OF THE DAY
—Joyce Odam

I love the fierceness of the day,  
the subtle way the sun can blaze
with sunlight and move red shadows
all around and yet the cold can go as deep
as snow before it, too, melts and freezes . . .

I love the fierceness of late winter days,
the subtle way the sun can burn its sky,
the redness of the clouds that change the
colors of the sky before they drift away
and let the icy air burn out . . .

 

 

 

Transition

 

WHAT OF TIME
—Robin Gale Odam

the canary in the mine—was it
yellow, or green . . . dusting of soot

now this different morning,
the noise of a train pulling away
and the innocence of birdsong in the
gray sky, freedom in frozen tree limbs
and the icy air of first light

now the chitter of a canary, pearly
white with a blush of crimson at his
cheeks—he lives in a lovely cage at the
window, opened just a few inches so that he
may hear the finches, and savor the freezing air

___________________

I SEE SHADOWS EVERYWHERE
—Joyce Odam

shadows everywhere—inside,
outside, shadows on the wall and on  
the door-ways and careless in traffic

the way bushes wait, then wildly
flutter to the storm and to the
stopping just before the
whole day blows
away

I know I
tend to otherwise
but somehow this day is
otherwise

some love is lost
and there is a then and now

a weary thought to ponder
before the winds conspire with
me and it all destroys the
love within the hate
before it's gone

 

 

 

Through Fury

 

I COULD SYMPATHIZE
—Joyce Odam

I could sympathize with my great grandson
when he, after some parent refusal, stomped
out of the room and I laughed after him and
he looked back, in a way explaining his woe,
"I JUST WANT TO GET MY WAY" and we
were all laughing.

 

 

 

 Frozen History

DON'T I FEEL BLUE
—Robin Gale Odam

(Listening to Cyndi Lauper's
interpretation of Jules Shear's
"All Through the Night")

the divide of being
a girlchild, of finding
one's self in such a world
as this

all my history frozen
in this dark night     
this night     
this one

 

 

 

Something About the War

 

 

TO THE GUNS
—Joyce Odam

Come to The Carol—it's a sunny day.
Today we are for mercy, take a step away.
Take the grief away—today we need a blessing.

Today we need a cry—something is remem-
bering—something is goodbye, oh how bitter,
song-like, oh how treasure-like is the bitter song.

Nothing to remember, today the world is wrong.
We forget our lessons. We forget our song. I want
to hear the blessings. I want to right the wrongs.

Sing a song of pity to another lie—another cry—
another try—holy, holy, holy—thunder in the sky—
voices loud and mending—loud and remembering.

Hello and goodbye—hold the breath forever—do not
love the fury—against the world so painful—let the
fury by—let The Carol ring—let the fury by.

____________________

Today’s LittleNip

AFTERMATH
 —Robin Gale Odam

aberration of fragile heart
troubled relationships
my father was in a war


(prev. pub. in Poems-For-All:
Scattered Like Seeds, #1222)

____________________

Our thanks to poets Joyce Odam and her daughter, Robin Gale Odam, for their fine poems about Fury today—our Seed of the Week—and to Robin for her photos, too! Our new Seed of the Week is “Etched in Stone”. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from. And see every Form Fiddlers’ Friday for poetry form challenges, including those of the Ekphrastic type.

Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.

Tune in to Harry’s Poetry Hour today at 1pm for a Zoom reading by William O’Daly and Lois P. Jones. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about this 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.

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

—Cartoon Courtesy of Public Domain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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