Scott C. Kaestner and Pal
—Poetry by Scott C. Kaestner, Los Angeles, CA
—Illustrations Courtesy of Public Domain
ANTHEM FOR THE A.M.
Coffee washes away the cobwebs
of my foggy morning mind
the sun is shining bright
sky so beautifully blue
anything is possible;
at least until
the caffeine
wears off.
Coffee washes away the cobwebs
of my foggy morning mind
the sun is shining bright
sky so beautifully blue
anything is possible;
at least until
the caffeine
wears off.
GEN-X LULLABY
I may be boring
but I’m not bored.
Whatever is my
weapon of choice.
Coffee before
anything.
Time is
a waste of time.
Commercialized
plastic eyes tell lies.
Legalize it
tear it down.
Kill your
TV.
Eat
the rich.
Never
mind.
Take a chill pill and
gag me with a spoon.
I may be boring
but I’m not bored.
Whatever is my
weapon of choice.
Coffee before
anything.
Time is
a waste of time.
Commercialized
plastic eyes tell lies.
Legalize it
tear it down.
Kill your
TV.
Eat
the rich.
Never
mind.
Take a chill pill and
gag me with a spoon.
THE TAO OF SUMMER
We are solar creatures soaring
blissful infernos, fire in our bellies.
Phosphorescent essence
incandescent and ever so alive.
We are solar creatures soaring
blissful infernos, fire in our bellies.
Phosphorescent essence
incandescent and ever so alive.
JOY
The kind of joy felt when hearing
your child giggle
or seeing your dog’s tail wagging
when you come home from work
the vibrations when your cat purrs
the look in your mom’s eyes when
she sees you as an adult
that feeling of falling in love joy
a day at the beach, the joy of
accomplishment
of new beginnings, laughter
the joy of travel, friends
old and new
we cannot forget joy, in spite of it all
whatever is coming, whatever is
in the past, now it’s joy
the lifeboat in dark seas, the light
of an eternal sun, a beacon
seek it, keep it, joy!
The kind of joy felt when hearing
your child giggle
or seeing your dog’s tail wagging
when you come home from work
the vibrations when your cat purrs
the look in your mom’s eyes when
she sees you as an adult
that feeling of falling in love joy
a day at the beach, the joy of
accomplishment
of new beginnings, laughter
the joy of travel, friends
old and new
we cannot forget joy, in spite of it all
whatever is coming, whatever is
in the past, now it’s joy
the lifeboat in dark seas, the light
of an eternal sun, a beacon
seek it, keep it, joy!
HERE WE ARE HUMAN
Being human has everything
to do with the collection
of experiences.
Being human has nothing
to do with the collection
of things.
No thing is everything
at the fork in the road
in the face of a setting sun
on the other side of the rainbow.
Every thing is nothing
when a vibration hits
where the mind expands
and the future translucent.
Love is the light
love is the answer
love is free, it is
here we are human.
_____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
AI WILL NEVER REPLACE POETS
—Scott C. Kaestner
Sure, AI can write you a poem.
But can it drink up all your booze
smoke your last joint and crash
on your couch rent-free?
_____________________
Kitchen newcomer Scott C. Kaestner is a Los Angeles poet, writer, dad, husband, and man seeking sanctuaries in or out of reality (preferably the latter). His work has been published internationally and you can Google 'scott kaestner poetry' (to peruse his musings and doings or maybe even buy a book. Welcome to the Kitchen, Scott, and don’t be a stranger!
Much ado about AI (Artificial Intelligence) with Facebook poets these days. I know it dates me to say this, but when I was in college, synthesizers were just coming into being in the music world, and there was a similar ado about them among musicians. I remember thinking that synthesizers would only "take over" when people didn't want to create by themselves—that then and only then would artificial intelligence replace them. I guess it depends on whether you create because it's fun and rewarding (or you're driven to do it) or because the end product is all that matters to you, for publishing or whatever your reasons.
Lots a-hoppin’ in NorCal area poetry tonight, starting at 7pm with Poetry Night Reading Series in Davis, featuring Maya Khosla and Lis Dominguez Abraham plus open mic. Molly Fisk and others will read at North Columbia Schoolhouse Cultural Center in Nevada City, also at 7pm. Then at 8pm, you have your choice of Poetry Night at the Guild Theater with POHOP, or Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe in Sacramento, with featured readers and open mic, 8pm. Click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) 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.
Scott Kaestner
For more about National Poetry Month,
including ways to celebrate, see
https://poets.org/national-poetry-month.
And sign up for Poem-a-Day at
https://poets.org/poem-a-day/, plus
read about Poem in Your Pocket Day
(this year, April 27) at
https://poets.org/national-poetry-month/poem-your-pocket-day/.
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!
including ways to celebrate, see
https://poets.org/national-poetry-month.
And sign up for Poem-a-Day at
https://poets.org/poem-a-day/, plus
read about Poem in Your Pocket Day
(this year, April 27) at
https://poets.org/national-poetry-month/poem-your-pocket-day/.
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!