Moon Rise
—Poetry by Joyce Odam and Robin Gale Odam,
Sacramento, CA
—Photos by Robin Gale Odam
ONCE UPON A MOON
—Joyce Odam
Once upon a moon the night was
old. The year was long. The day
lost distance. And time was slip-
ping. Now was the turning of the
sky. And it was day without a cloud.
Clouds were lost without a thought.
The moon was rising 'midst the sky.
Without the sun the cloud turned to
rain. The cloud could not rain but
pulled the moon back into place.
The day squirmed into night again.
The moon was full. The world was
unaware. And so were we. Night
followed noiselessly.
—Joyce Odam
Once upon a moon the night was
old. The year was long. The day
lost distance. And time was slip-
ping. Now was the turning of the
sky. And it was day without a cloud.
Clouds were lost without a thought.
The moon was rising 'midst the sky.
Without the sun the cloud turned to
rain. The cloud could not rain but
pulled the moon back into place.
The day squirmed into night again.
The moon was full. The world was
unaware. And so were we. Night
followed noiselessly.
Dark Blues
INSOMNIA XXXII
—Robin Gale Odam
the usual day—the mumble of the
deadline, the tapestry of hard colors,
the collage of the wind chime and the
crying chorus of sirens in the traffic of
motion and consequence, and the glare
but now this broad canvas of stars,
unfailing and obedient—the turning of
halcyon lights in the vault of heaven
(prev. pub. in Brevities, July 2018)
__________________
DWELLING
—Joyce Odam
Look around, where we are—
the day is here, a place for
everything and a place owned
by love, this lifelong time of life's
reclaim when something fails—
let this be our dwelling made of
something we will need, much can
let this fail or turn its back—here,
inside, the house might never let
this be for it is not a passing-through.
—Robin Gale Odam
the usual day—the mumble of the
deadline, the tapestry of hard colors,
the collage of the wind chime and the
crying chorus of sirens in the traffic of
motion and consequence, and the glare
but now this broad canvas of stars,
unfailing and obedient—the turning of
halcyon lights in the vault of heaven
(prev. pub. in Brevities, July 2018)
__________________
DWELLING
—Joyce Odam
Look around, where we are—
the day is here, a place for
everything and a place owned
by love, this lifelong time of life's
reclaim when something fails—
let this be our dwelling made of
something we will need, much can
let this fail or turn its back—here,
inside, the house might never let
this be for it is not a passing-through.
Homestead
EVEN WITH A COAT OF PAINT
I WILL STILL BE AN OLD BARN
—Robin Gale Odam
Just leave me be.
Winter will know me
in its own way—slip through my
fractures, the shade of my secrets,
the high windy hollows, the old nails
of sorrows.
I will howl then, and shift with the
passions of wind and the curious
colors of winter.
I WILL STILL BE AN OLD BARN
—Robin Gale Odam
Just leave me be.
Winter will know me
in its own way—slip through my
fractures, the shade of my secrets,
the high windy hollows, the old nails
of sorrows.
I will howl then, and shift with the
passions of wind and the curious
colors of winter.
Hibiscus
SOMETHING ABOUT THE MIND
—Joyce Odam
The sky is a wild sea today—slow-moving
clouds in a hurry, changing size and pattern
irregular to the world of which there is only
mind—everything of its own trail of distance,
the sky-sound through the allowance of eyes
that follow and miss the rhythm—the silence.
The sky is full of voice, changing tone to fol-
low, everything full of silent brilliance for the
sun to fill the openings before another moment
refuses to follow form but waits for the silent
cries of the open spaces, not releasing any
voices that make the mind voiceless.
_____________________
BITTER AND SWEET
—Robin Gale Odam
It begins with naught—
he drew a shadow out of the
shotglass and drank it down fully
If you perfect your dark look
the world will look darkly on you
I have not lost my memory of this
He thought I said "combatable"
so we were married
Even at the darkest of joy
there is a beginning and the end
—Joyce Odam
The sky is a wild sea today—slow-moving
clouds in a hurry, changing size and pattern
irregular to the world of which there is only
mind—everything of its own trail of distance,
the sky-sound through the allowance of eyes
that follow and miss the rhythm—the silence.
The sky is full of voice, changing tone to fol-
low, everything full of silent brilliance for the
sun to fill the openings before another moment
refuses to follow form but waits for the silent
cries of the open spaces, not releasing any
voices that make the mind voiceless.
_____________________
BITTER AND SWEET
—Robin Gale Odam
It begins with naught—
he drew a shadow out of the
shotglass and drank it down fully
If you perfect your dark look
the world will look darkly on you
I have not lost my memory of this
He thought I said "combatable"
so we were married
Even at the darkest of joy
there is a beginning and the end
Open Door
THIS DAY
—Joyce Odam
This day give me my tears, again—my eyes are
too far out of reason, they need the weeping again,
another sadness all too familiar for you, my old
winter storm, again, all out of reason, pulling away
so I would follow, but I have taken away from you,
again—needing myself, for who and then, to follow
where I am known to be who I am—enough weep-
ing—turning back to myself this time I know from
which way the wind blows the leaves now.
—Joyce Odam
This day give me my tears, again—my eyes are
too far out of reason, they need the weeping again,
another sadness all too familiar for you, my old
winter storm, again, all out of reason, pulling away
so I would follow, but I have taken away from you,
again—needing myself, for who and then, to follow
where I am known to be who I am—enough weep-
ing—turning back to myself this time I know from
which way the wind blows the leaves now.
Ink Cap Mushroom
EPILOGUE
—Robin Gale Odam
Beware, these girls are mean—
I remember them from grade school,
I think I was six.
I watched from the long bench, my
back against the red bricks—I fixed
my eyes just beyond them, as though
watching the bats that swept over the
playground from the terra cotta roof tiles.
I saw the sharing of secrets—the knowing
looks, the telling smiles covered by fingertips,
faces turned just away from my presence,
my imperceptible waters—
deep waters for treading, for paddling
around them if it was not too far—for holding
one breathful of words and gliding just beneath
the surface and around them—or for sinking into—
for sinking, and then away and back to my bench
and the red bricks—to looking past them at the
bats, and waiting for the bell to ring.
Heading Home
THRESHOLD
—Joyce Odam
When home is home again how much can
stay in difference, and loss, to complication.
When truth is rude and time is dying slowly
and love is twisting like another promise
of the rule, which of the many must we rue—
oh, all the histories to wander through.
Why is loss, ever and none, vague.
I saw the sun come out this day without
all its promises—the warmth of promising
the surge of promise, as all believers expect.
Nothing is vague if you know how to go
further with yourself—oh, lonely self with so
much hidden from your worth of effort and
belief—and have some sense recalled.
And all that has some sense of connectivity,
its loss the same as yours, no explanations,
only out of fashion—the one tear knows this.
It is the house that stirs the answer, the house
what to believe in, whatever you can make of
it, the buyers of your life in its first burning,
life as perfection now.
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SEPTEMBER 2001
—Robin Gale Odam
We dropped a bomb today,
although I did not know until the
news—they said "we" dropped a
bomb. I did not know.
______________________
The Odam Poets have joined us today, on this second day of spring, with thoughts of house and home for our Seed of the Week: Home Sweet Home—and many thanks for those. Our new Seed of the Week is “Pick Your Battles”. 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.
And today is World Poetry Day (https://www.unesco.org/en/world-poetry-day)! This afternoon at 4:45pm, Sierra Poetry Festival begins, and celebrates World Poetry Day with an opening reception, “Poems on Belonging at the Rood: an intimate grouping of poems that center individual notions of belonging” at the Eric Rood Center, 950 Maidu Av., Nevada City, CA. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1415028632656733/?ref=newsfeed/. The poetry exhibit lasts through April 30.
Those Sierra Poetry people are having a lollapalooza of an event this year, their seventh. Check out the happenings at https://www.sierrapoetryfestival.org/. There also will be numerous pop-up readings; go to https://www.sierrapoetryfestival.org/popup-poetry-events for info about those, and keep checking. Their events just keep, well, popping up...
_______________________
—Medusa
—Joyce Odam
When home is home again how much can
stay in difference, and loss, to complication.
When truth is rude and time is dying slowly
and love is twisting like another promise
of the rule, which of the many must we rue—
oh, all the histories to wander through.
Why is loss, ever and none, vague.
I saw the sun come out this day without
all its promises—the warmth of promising
the surge of promise, as all believers expect.
Nothing is vague if you know how to go
further with yourself—oh, lonely self with so
much hidden from your worth of effort and
belief—and have some sense recalled.
And all that has some sense of connectivity,
its loss the same as yours, no explanations,
only out of fashion—the one tear knows this.
It is the house that stirs the answer, the house
what to believe in, whatever you can make of
it, the buyers of your life in its first burning,
life as perfection now.
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SEPTEMBER 2001
—Robin Gale Odam
We dropped a bomb today,
although I did not know until the
news—they said "we" dropped a
bomb. I did not know.
______________________
The Odam Poets have joined us today, on this second day of spring, with thoughts of house and home for our Seed of the Week: Home Sweet Home—and many thanks for those. Our new Seed of the Week is “Pick Your Battles”. 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.
And today is World Poetry Day (https://www.unesco.org/en/world-poetry-day)! This afternoon at 4:45pm, Sierra Poetry Festival begins, and celebrates World Poetry Day with an opening reception, “Poems on Belonging at the Rood: an intimate grouping of poems that center individual notions of belonging” at the Eric Rood Center, 950 Maidu Av., Nevada City, CA. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1415028632656733/?ref=newsfeed/. The poetry exhibit lasts through April 30.
Those Sierra Poetry people are having a lollapalooza of an event this year, their seventh. Check out the happenings at https://www.sierrapoetryfestival.org/. There also will be numerous pop-up readings; go to https://www.sierrapoetryfestival.org/popup-poetry-events for info about those, and keep checking. Their events just keep, well, popping up...
_______________________
—Medusa
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
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.
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
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.
