—Poetry by Ann Privateer, Stephan Kingsnorth,
Kumar Ghimire, Shiva Neupane, Laura Stamps,
and Nolcha Fox
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Joe Nolan
—Ann Privateer, Davis, CA
Dance in purple rain
Amid luscious weeds
They crumble cookies
To make a pie
Hang free with all
Around the corner
There's a purple house
To see, and wonder
What the back yard
Might be, quick
Or crude, blasted
Or maybe paved
For a volley of gossip
Words writ large.
wearing purple robes
while riding a white mare
with spotted margins
as they enter Warsville
sent there by witches.
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
There’s nowt so cozy, cup of tea,
said pot prepared with boiling scald,
one scoop for each plus ‘one for pot’,
then cosy capped against cool draught,
as leaves infused or mashed, e’en stewed,
each clause of place as gazetteer.
From first weak pour to builder’s brew:
bone china cup with pinkie crooked,
translucent body of the ware,
or mug with sugars piling up,
and floating bag since loose the norm.
‘Shall I be mother’, lore of pour,
a cuppa, char and chai well known,
when ‘squeeze one more’, ceramic told,
the rite for every mishap calmed,
a comfort break as ministered,
—Kumar Ghimire, Biratnagar-12, Nepal
My tiny heart is too narrow to uphold
My limitless love.
So, I have been inscribing on a white blank paper.
My love language has blended
With my evergreen creativity.
It is very hard for me
To behold my love in wavering heart.
The shiny rays of happiness and worries
Have pierced my body,
Shining brighter than the sun.
Colours of love are flying to paint the desires.
The pathways of my love end with your
My love is a seed of togetherness that still
Needs to be nurtured.
—Laura Stamps, Columbia, SC
I’m always amazed. I am. When
driving down a busy road and
see. You know. One shoe. Just
one. Not two. In the middle
of the street. I mean. What’s
up with that? I wonder, wonder.
And Amelia does too. Her
expression. Those eyes. Yeah.
I can tell. My Amelia. Buckled
in her car seat. Staring at that
shoe. Wondering. She is. But
then, but then. I give her a
treat. And she forgets. All her
wondering. Gone. Yeah. She’s
simple like that. Too bad I’m
not. I wish, I wish. Life would
be much easier. Wouldn’t it?
So, so simple. If I were. You
know. A Chihuahua. It would.
And yet, and yet. That shoe.
My Amelia. Her name. Did
I ever tell you? What it was.
What they named her. Before
I changed it. Her name. To
Amelia. Before, before. Back
when she was surrendered.
This tiny Chihuahua. A
senior. Stuffed in a suitcase.
She was. With her favorite
toy. (Can you imagine?) Left
at the front door. Abandoned.
At the Humane Society. So
that’s what they named her:
Suitcase. Loved her toy.
She did. Ragged, dirty. Just
a child’s sock monkey. The
only toy she’d play with.
Cling to. Loved. For months.
Until I found it. That day.
Beneath the bed. Forgotten.
Like the past. Her past. Like
we all need to do. Try to do.
Should do. Forget the past.
Move on. We should. And
she did. To a new life. New
toys. No suitcase needed.
SPARKLIES NOT FOR THEM
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Crows shake their heads,
they caw, they peck,
but dewdrops are not sparklies
they can grab.
Welcome to October in the Kitchen, and thanks to today’s contributors! Newcomer Kumar Ghimire is a Nepalese poet whose poems have been published in many national and international magazines, including Sahitya Post, Polish Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, Spillwords, Writers Club, Ink Pantry, and International Times. Welcome to the Kitchen, Kumar, and don’t be a stranger!
The same goes for the rest of you! Click on “Placating the Gorgon” in the links at the top of this page (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/placating-harridan.html) for details about submitting to the Kitchen. Like the man says (whoever the man is…), the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
Sacramento Poetry Day is coming up on Oct. 24, but meanwhile, Sac. Poetry Center has readers tonight; there’s a workshop in Cameron Park on Tuesday and a series of workshops coming every Weds. in October from Women’s Wisdom Art (not to mention all the weekly workshops around here; go to the calendar and scroll down to the bottom for a listing); and Thursday brings Poetry Night Reading Series in Davis. 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.
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
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Find previous four posts by scrolling down
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the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
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(A cookie from the Kitchen for today):
squirrel in an
each dreaming of