—Poetry by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain
MODERN GODDESS
She’s practical as a frying pan,
charismatic as actor Streep,
expansive like Eleanor R.
Rejecting armaments and war,
she slips into Milky Way’s
planetary gardens
pausing to sprinkle angel dust
on her newly-opened Peace
Boutique on Cloud Nineteen.
Happy in the hinterlands
of her healthy ego,
Goddess urges quiet rallies,
offers apples from Eden,
counts blessings, not money;
rewords a No reply to a prayer.
Lady sings not the blues but pinks.
Avid for positive social change
she relies on intuition, fables,
history, cheerful greeting
cards, postmarked sky
or ocean.
She’s practical as a frying pan,
charismatic as actor Streep,
expansive like Eleanor R.
Rejecting armaments and war,
she slips into Milky Way’s
planetary gardens
pausing to sprinkle angel dust
on her newly-opened Peace
Boutique on Cloud Nineteen.
Happy in the hinterlands
of her healthy ego,
Goddess urges quiet rallies,
offers apples from Eden,
counts blessings, not money;
rewords a No reply to a prayer.
Lady sings not the blues but pinks.
Avid for positive social change
she relies on intuition, fables,
history, cheerful greeting
cards, postmarked sky
or ocean.
MT. SHASTA, SUMMER
on vacation return
Missing rough planks
of the Oregon cabin,
I sink toes into motel shag rug,
viewing from its window
Mt. Shasta in moonlight,
my once camping on her slopes—
my share of Native American
vibrant.
Pulling a room-chair closer
to window, I peer up
and over a placid blue
swimming pool reflecting
flashy neon…
But, ah, the great mountain,
her moonlit snow
whispering
on vacation return
Missing rough planks
of the Oregon cabin,
I sink toes into motel shag rug,
viewing from its window
Mt. Shasta in moonlight,
my once camping on her slopes—
my share of Native American
vibrant.
Pulling a room-chair closer
to window, I peer up
and over a placid blue
swimming pool reflecting
flashy neon…
But, ah, the great mountain,
her moonlit snow
whispering
BACKYARD AHS
Ah
prisms
in
filaments
of
long
drying
hair
flung
over
her
forehead
pastels
on
fingertip
strands
while
facing
the
sun’s facets.
Ah
prisms
in
filaments
of
long
drying
hair
flung
over
her
forehead
pastels
on
fingertip
strands
while
facing
the
sun’s facets.
GROUP MEDITATION
by Pacific Ocean
Listening to
incoming waves
breathing evenly, we
inhale fused variations
on universal themes, as
numerous as galaxies in this
oceanic celebration of each be-
coming more than they may realize.
by Pacific Ocean
Listening to
incoming waves
breathing evenly, we
inhale fused variations
on universal themes, as
numerous as galaxies in this
oceanic celebration of each be-
coming more than they may realize.
BY MARY OLIVER’S POND
Islands
of lily pads
welcome us aboard when
we are calm as a dragonfly’s
pastels
Islands
of lily pads
welcome us aboard when
we are calm as a dragonfly’s
pastels
“....DOGMA OF DARK BREWS”*
*Dr. Anissa Sboui, Tunisia
What is the dogma of colas?
And cognac? Coffee? Carafes
of dark beer & brandy?
What of innate power in prune juice?
Vodka, varoomed from potatoes.
Spring water flowing from a mystical
mountain may not need a doctrine,
nor California milk and cream.
Cutting to the bottom line,
I wonder, what is my dogma
as an elder elder, as a poet who
has adventured in
and promoted the art?
In playing with the word dogma,
I discover AM GOD. In fiddling
with its cousin, tenet, I arrive
at a palindrome . . . . So it goes.
*Dr. Anissa Sboui, Tunisia
What is the dogma of colas?
And cognac? Coffee? Carafes
of dark beer & brandy?
What of innate power in prune juice?
Vodka, varoomed from potatoes.
Spring water flowing from a mystical
mountain may not need a doctrine,
nor California milk and cream.
Cutting to the bottom line,
I wonder, what is my dogma
as an elder elder, as a poet who
has adventured in
and promoted the art?
In playing with the word dogma,
I discover AM GOD. In fiddling
with its cousin, tenet, I arrive
at a palindrome . . . . So it goes.
THE FOUNTAIN
In the Garden of Wonder and Awe
there leaps a fountain,
lively and luminous . . .
Rising and falling,
it journeys drop by drop,
vision by vision into flowing
within the flow.
We may resist creativity,
yet always we find ourselves
pulled irresistibly toward
the fountain
as if by celestial magnets.
The climbing/falling waters
may overwhelm. We dare to
step closer, trace one droplet,
another and another,
priming ourselves to let images
lead wherever they may.
Common pebbles tossed into
the receptive pool alchemize
into golden nuggets!
In the Garden of Wonder and Awe
there leaps a fountain,
lively and luminous.
Creativity, we are water
drawn to water.
(Dancing Poetry Festival, 2016
Grand Prize, printed in The Art
of Awe by Natica and Richard Angilly)
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
ON FAR HORIZON
Of the
ninety-nine
names
for God
she
chooses
one
not
as
yet
listed
Pollen . . .
—Claire J. Baker
__________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Claire Baker for her fine poetry today on the theme of water~
In the Garden of Wonder and Awe
there leaps a fountain,
lively and luminous . . .
Rising and falling,
it journeys drop by drop,
vision by vision into flowing
within the flow.
We may resist creativity,
yet always we find ourselves
pulled irresistibly toward
the fountain
as if by celestial magnets.
The climbing/falling waters
may overwhelm. We dare to
step closer, trace one droplet,
another and another,
priming ourselves to let images
lead wherever they may.
Common pebbles tossed into
the receptive pool alchemize
into golden nuggets!
In the Garden of Wonder and Awe
there leaps a fountain,
lively and luminous.
Creativity, we are water
drawn to water.
(Dancing Poetry Festival, 2016
Grand Prize, printed in The Art
of Awe by Natica and Richard Angilly)
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
ON FAR HORIZON
Of the
ninety-nine
names
for God
she
chooses
one
not
as
yet
listed
Pollen . . .
—Claire J. Baker
__________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Claire Baker for her fine poetry today on the theme of water~
Lots going on in NorCal poetry today, with
a Sac. Poetry Center art exhibit; readings
at Sac. Poetry Alliance and Brickhouse;
and the opening of the FIRE/LAND exhibit
in Placerville!
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
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.
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!
a Sac. Poetry Center art exhibit; readings
at Sac. Poetry Alliance and Brickhouse;
and the opening of the FIRE/LAND exhibit
in Placerville!
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
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.
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!
