—Poetry by Scott Kaestner, Los Angeles, CA
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
DOWNSTREAM
don’t overthink the sunrise
just get up to witness
its beauty;
have a cup of coffee
and know life is
a river;
feel the current, tune in
know no force can defeat it
downstream is the way home
to a sunset, to another sunrise
to be wise enough to let go.
don’t overthink the sunrise
just get up to witness
its beauty;
have a cup of coffee
and know life is
a river;
feel the current, tune in
know no force can defeat it
downstream is the way home
to a sunset, to another sunrise
to be wise enough to let go.
IF ONLY GUNS FIRED ROSES
If only guns fired roses
and bombs exploded with hope.
If only people prioritized people
our collective here and now
not some mythical afterlife.
If only love was the currency
that drove the economy.
If only we listened to children laughing
thought of them first
our legacy—their future.
If only there were a bed
for every human on the planet.
If only we fell in love with rainbows
saw the inherent beauty
in all of our brothers and sisters.
If only there were no religion
only godly people doing greater goods.
If only the answer to
“hey, did you hear the news?”
didn’t crush souls and break hearts.
If only guns fired roses
and bombs exploded with hope.
THE SUNSET STRIP
long live the night of orchestral
shadowplay under
bubbling moon
city of angels ablaze
flowing to the rhythm—to the beat
of firecracker hearts & burning souls
seeking the dawn, peeking at eternity
flames everywhere, everything on fire.
CRASH COURSE
As the woman sped
into the gas station
smashing her car
into a concrete
barrier
I thought of the passage
of time and how we can
never go back—even
for a couple of
seconds
What is done is done
and can’t be undone
making awareness
the key defense
against regret
and higher car insurance premiums.
JET LAG BLUES
Jet lag a drag, upside down
sunny side up
in a tipsy
turvy
world
seeking
the perfect balancing act
of coffee and sleep.
DAWN
Our worlds inhale the ether
we lock eyes, spin circles
gravity be damned let us float into
the glow of a serenading moon
lips interwoven, lives intersecting
the beckoning sun exhales.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
But when fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.
―Stephen King, Salem’s Lot
__________________
Newcomer Scott C. Kaestner is a Los Angeles poet, writer, dad, husband, and man who sees dreams alive and well in reality. Google ‘scott kaestner poetry’ to peruse his musings and maybe even buy a book. Welcome to the Kitchen, Scott, and don’t be a stranger!
__________________
—Medusa
Scott Kaestner
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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
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!
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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
during the week.
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
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 cookie from the Kitchen for today):
here comes
the mailman~
Hermes
in a little
white
truck