Groping Toward Compost

 Americaaaa
—Poetry and Visuals by Smith,
Cleveland, OH

I observe
digest
occasionally regurgitate

 

 

 

 Folk Medicine

 

Black caffeine
sex and gasoline
pedal to the bleed

 

 

 

Flow

 

Pain is your friend
lets you know you're alive
still stumbling down Entropy Lane
with the rest of us halt and lost and lame
every day longer
every year shorter
every blister bigger
every gain subdued
as we bounce in bursts of grasp and sorrow
groping toward compost
brief season
a few tree rings
and back to ground we go
minerals and manure
to be mined
by many
a fool

 

 

 

Darkstar

 

DREAM NEED

The small made big
and the big made mundane
when all and nothing are everything
leaves people little but lies
running for truth
and from
no stories to follow or dream
just big box stores
box office movies
and miles and miles of flat top asphalt
lifting car
after car
after killing car
to sky

 

 

 

Navigation

 

EGO A-GO-GO

There's me
and there's me
me happy
me sad
me good
me bad
me knowing
knowing nothing
me trying
already failed
me care
me not
me aware
me sot

There's this ropewalk of empathy
invisible
stress strung over sharp knives
and hungry teeth
where you can't care so little you don't
integrate
nor too much due overload loss
so with less to care care more
and more to care care less
only so much stock
it's never enough
one way or another
from this end of field
or that
no real-time score
just birth
game
death
analysis
judgment
heaven
hell
rebirth
maybe aftergame video replay
for close calls

 

 

 

 100%

 

Duct tape
epoxy
kindness
and marijuana—
that's my church

 

 

 

 Deathwish

 

We make stories of fears
faults
failures

Freight train pulls heavy
through valley of night
moan and wail

Sparkle frosts dead leaves
breath hangs in air
Persephone's back in hell

I make my noise
nobody listens
life goes on

 

 

 

 Pyramids

 

Today’s LittleNip:

Pain doesn't stop
life continues
constant compromise

 

 

 

 Circle Broken

_________________

—Medusa, with our thanks to Smith (Steven B. Smith) for his fine poetry and visuals today on this, the Winter Solstice of 2023. Our thoughts are with him this season as he and Lady prepare for his up-coming surgery.

 

 

 

 

Bone Lady

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that
Third Thursdays at the Library
meets today at noon in Sacramento;
and later this afternoon, there will be a
Poets and Writers Workshop in
Cameron Park.
For info about these and other
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!

moods/scared/scared
LittleSnake’s Glimmer of Hope
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today)

change will
embrace you, so
may as well
embrace the
snarky bitch
back~