* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Steven Bruce, Caschwa, and Joe Nolan
—Visual Poetry by Robert Fleming
—Tree Illustration by Nolcha Fox
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Stephen Kingsnorth, Steven Bruce,
and Joe Nolan
HIDDEN
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Somewhere unbeknownst to man,
is forest hidden, untouched, wild.
Roots that knit the world together,
Leaves that paint the black of night.
Somewhere, something, bigger
than our tiny egos can envision,
somewhere that will outlast
all the damage we inflict.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Somewhere unbeknownst to man,
is forest hidden, untouched, wild.
Roots that knit the world together,
Leaves that paint the black of night.
Somewhere, something, bigger
than our tiny egos can envision,
somewhere that will outlast
all the damage we inflict.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
FOREST TIMBRE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Our arboretum, monument,
where folks recall the dead of war,
so many fallen, leaf on leaf,
consigned to earth, the world of worms.
There counterintuitive, dun
becomes burnt umber land, ground-scaped,
rich humus for the sapling root,
new life for old, continuous.
Pinetum for the conifers
from northern climes where Christmas grown,
to Lebanon’s Bsharri trees,
both signs of God in branched out faith
as Bodhi in the Buddhist way,
Yggdrasil for the Nordic strains.
Is this the privilege of trees,
as Eden to Golgotha, more,
to take the space in legend, lore,
from hourglass, route to canopy,
with mycorrhiza web on call?
Take tump or clump where bark is heard—
as chopped, spokeshaved or pecked, beak, bill—
there’s carbon storage on the hill.
That whipping post, those stocks, witch chair,
were cradle, marriage bed before,
and all things hewn for infant care—
indeed family tree carved out;
what may be harvest of our grain—
the nurtured life or deathbed knell?
Harvesting Tools
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Stephen Kingsnorth
HARVESTING THE GRAIN
—Stephen Kingsnorth
A treasure chest, still silver shine,
tools bright, though handles manicured
by leathered palms, patina years,
now pegged, clipped, hung in craftsman’s den;
from blade, spokeshave, to chisel grooved,
for furrow hew or plane and lathe,
this vice clamp locks the sacred space,
that horde where bored cannot be found,
the artisan’s trove, unmoved, set square.
Paraphernalia screwed down,
with awls and all to punch their weight
through hide where seek the buckle bite—
this is the workshop for the grate,
sandpaper gauge to be applied.
Here sons ply wood with hammered nails—
learn cursed shrieks where thumbs intervene—
learn feel for trees by timber yards,
a metric for their carpentry.
As lads run rings and harvest grain,
know knots, as buff what can be done,
they learn to work with, journeymen,
and not to fight relationship,
mortise and tenon joined as one.
Bemoan claimed signs of fading skills,
but while there’s canopy, concern,
that bole of life outgrows the stump,
those trees present salvation yet.
Gilliat Struggles with the Giant Octopus
—Painting by Gustave Doré
SLIGHT
—Steven Bruce, Barcelona, Spain
Out of their tiny mouths,
it comes, slight and salty,
a swirl of wearisome words,
which are nothing
but a sweeping small swell
over the stilled Kraken’s papillae.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
FOUR VISUAL POEMS
—Robert Fleming, Lewes, Delaware
Apollo 11 in 1969 discovers pizza
Moon crust pizza causes howling
Pizza with moon peppers causes jealousy
_____________________
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
GO YE 4TH
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Go ye 1st and
incriminate
the mime
Go ye 2nd and
illuminate
the Sky
Go ye 3rd and
dominate
the show
Go ye 4th and
disseminate
the Estate
Go ye 5th and
prevaricate
a tale
Go ye 6th and
conglomerate
at Broadway
Go ye 7th and
exaggerate
the inning
Go ye 8th and
humiliate
Pluto
Go ye 9th and
detonate
a Grand Slam
Go ye 10th and
decorate
perfection
Go ye 11th and
calculate
the last hour
—Public Domain Cartoon Courtesy of Joe Nolan
BACKWARDS
—Caschwa
she said she was fire
so he brought out the
fire extinguisher
to extinguish her
he said no woman could
ever put him in his place
so she dropped him
down a manhole
if only arians knew what
antidisestablish
meant
it doesn’t work to play
a grand finale
on a spinet
couldn’t speak French
so I called my
derailleur
a ten-speed
once you admit that you’ve
been there and done that
they’ll throw the book
at you
I swallow pills to help my health
and to enrich
Big Pharma’s
wealth
—Caschwa
she said she was fire
so he brought out the
fire extinguisher
to extinguish her
he said no woman could
ever put him in his place
so she dropped him
down a manhole
if only arians knew what
antidisestablish
meant
it doesn’t work to play
a grand finale
on a spinet
couldn’t speak French
so I called my
derailleur
a ten-speed
once you admit that you’ve
been there and done that
they’ll throw the book
at you
I swallow pills to help my health
and to enrich
Big Pharma’s
wealth
—Public Domain Cartoon
Courtesy of Joe Nolan
WOE IS ME
—Caschwa
I’ll just woeander
along the winding Creekside
in the early dawn
humming woelodic
responses to the bird calls
in the forest trees
munching sliced woelon
for endurance and good strength
it is a long hike
my woemory fails
to recall where I started
hope the end is soon
oh woercy, woercy
there’s a deer hiding thither
we fear each other
and stay far apart
to remain off the woenu
together in peace
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
AT THE ORGANIC RESTAURANT
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Would you like your
Pseudo-organic
Compost-pile
Fake chicken
Leafy green salad
Sprinkled with
Lipid-covered
Nano-particles
To re-set your
Operating system
Or not?
You have choices,
You know?
It’s still a free society.
We’re not locking people down
Like 2021
And shoving this stuff
Down their throats.
That will come
Sometime later, maybe,
When the next, tragic,
Synthroid micro-predator
Is released into your genome
By mandated injection.
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Be seasonal, ethical, and gentle.
—Fennel Hudson, Traditional Angling: Fennel’s Journal No. 6
__________________
Welcome to another week of Medusa’s Kitchen, and thanks to today’s contributors for helping us celebrate our Seed of the Week (in honor of last Friday’s Arbor Day), Trees—among, of course, other subjects from far and wide.
This coming Thursday is the annual Big Day Of Giving. Go to BigDayOfGiving.org to find out how to make a donation to your favorite non-profit.
Swan Scythe Press is accepting manuscripts for its 2024 chapbook contest through June 15th (postmark). Any living poet writing in English is eligible to submit. The winning manuscript will be published in a 6" x 9" format, perfect-bound with full-color cover. The contest winner will receive 25 copies of the book and a prize of $200. Info: go to submittable at www.swanscythepress.com/.
And this coming Wednesday is the deadline for the annual anthology, Voices, from Cold River Press. For info about that and other future 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. National Poetry Month will end that day, too, but that doesn’t mean NorCal poetry events will end—there’s plenty more to come! So keep an eye on that link for all that fun and poetry frolic in the future!
_____________________
—Medusa
Swan Scythe Press is accepting manuscripts for its 2024 chapbook contest through June 15th (postmark). Any living poet writing in English is eligible to submit. The winning manuscript will be published in a 6" x 9" format, perfect-bound with full-color cover. The contest winner will receive 25 copies of the book and a prize of $200. Info: go to submittable at www.swanscythepress.com/.
And this coming Wednesday is the deadline for the annual anthology, Voices, from Cold River Press. For info about that and other future 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. National Poetry Month will end that day, too, but that doesn’t mean NorCal poetry events will end—there’s plenty more to come! So keep an eye on that link for all that fun and poetry frolic in the future!
_____________________
—Medusa
Goodnight, Moon...
—Public Domain Photo
A reminder that
Sacramento Poetry Center
will present Sarah Menefee and
Jim Normington tonight, 7:30pm.
For info about this and other
future 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?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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!
Sacramento Poetry Center
will present Sarah Menefee and
Jim Normington tonight, 7:30pm.
For info about this and other
future 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?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
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!
