Lust in the Kitchen

  “Lust”
—Illustration by Nolcha Fox
(w/Microsoft Image Creator)

* * *

—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Caschwa, Michael H. Brownstein,
Sayani Mukherjee, and Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Joe Nolan and Medusa

 

 

UNDYING PASSION
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

I don’t lust for money, sex,
fame, power, or legacy.
I yearn for Italian food
I ate when I was young.

Pizza, lasagne, fettuccini,
Italian wedding risotto,
spaghetti, meatballs,
parmigiana, gnocchi,
ah, the list goes on.

But no, I must eat
heart-healthy food
to live the perfect life.
But is a life
with no real passion
a perfect life at all?

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

 

 

THE AH PROMPT (a Triolet)
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

The prompting in the air is Lust
that once was pan for gold.
Ah, think of want-to more than must
when auras in the air bring lust—
and not a power-play, or bust
a rib from passion’s hold!
Medusa’s tricky prompt is Lust.
For nuggets I pan for gold.

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

SENSUAL
[After this orange iris posted on MK 6/25]
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Voluptuous, as silken bait,
how strange to name, like circus act,
this bearded lady eye attracts,
a lovely señorita which
arises from bared rhizome base.

A complement to be the bee—
no honey trap that I can see
beyond the norm of any bloom
that sets its dress to best effect,
awaiting pass of matador.

A bullseye for the quiver fan,
that golden cape of shoulder length
and rich bronzed fall as swirl of skirt,
a ruby russet lustre furled,
as carpal waits with stigma, style.

So here she stands, a him as well,
both ying and yang genetic codes,
an episode for birds, those bees,
a thought to plant where black and white,
the palette range for rainbow tastes.

Now there they grow, put on a show,
that visitors may pollinate,
deep orange, burnt, with tangerine,
the German flag Linnaeus knew,
a hybrid x, as many are.

So where are we, Germanic Spain,
both señorita, matador,
a mix of genders, bearded girl,
this Carmen with a carmine hue,
a sensual beauty to behold. 

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

 

MUSCLE BEACH
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

used to bicycle quite a lot
had legs like a football player
the rest of me a Raggedy Ann doll

loved to cycle down to the beach
salty-air smell, plus lotions, and
fresh-made sandwiches

a bicycle path, ideal in intent, but
shared with pedestrians, roller
skaters, skateboarders, mopeds

one of the features was Muscle Beach
bodies beyond believable, like having
a shiny, bold, Excalibur pull up beside

my faded ’60’s Dodge Dart, silently saying
no amount of paint, or chrome, or effort
would ever transform my car to that …

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

WORKPLACE MEMORIES
In response to old prompt, “You are what you drink”
—Caschwa

next cube, right
fresh battery
back from lunch

next cube, left
old hattery
all past tense

next cube, behind
a flattery of
flatulence

delayed delivery
a misery of
patisserie

was that coffee?
if you savor
charcoal flavor 

 

 

 

Serpent Log

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

AND THEN IT DISAPPEARS
—Caschwa

many woodwind instruments
have a handy octave key, the
player just puts their finger on
the octave key, applies the necessary
air pressure, and the pitch changes
accordingly

when the player removes their
finger from the key, the key
remains right there, ready for
use again and again

in the garden I have a special
tool to punch a hole in a hose
in preparation for plugging in
an irrigation line

once the hole is established, I
set the tool aside because I need
both hands to continue the job

Unlike the octave key, my hole
punch does not remain where I
can readily grab it to use again,
it wanders off into some box or
bag or crawls into a tight space on
a cluttered shelf and disappears

Then I have to go to the store
and buy another one.

 

 

 

Sand Dragon

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

IN SEARCH OF A BETTER WAY
—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO

Hamas is not allowed to sit at the table—
nor is the Israeli government—
except for the one reserved for cowards,
liars, thieves and the evil in murderers.
Our table is set for a meeting between
the good people of Gaza, the good
people of Israel. Both people deserve
a right to strive and thrive, pray to their God
for peace. Does Hamas not know
their holy book? Do they not know
the Jewish prophets Abraham, Isaac,
and Moses are in their book? Do they
not know there is a place for Jesus?
Has the Israeli government forgotten morality?
Ignorant, inability to comprehend
their holy books, and stone stupidity
is not a reason to kill, wound, and destroy.
Bring on the good people of both lands.
Together we can take away Hamas’ power.
May peace regain its foothold.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

HISTORY
—Sayani Mukherjee, Chandannagar,
W. Bengal, India

The strange submission of beaded stars
Falls on my back
I surmise a classical music strangely beautiful
Its ringing is poised yet melancholy
The cuckoo’s nest is safe today
A sweet ecstasy of sun-burnt smile
The flagrant dreams keep rolling
Tonight as it is known the songs will pray
For the fall of roman empire
Historic preservation is needed
The aura of narcotic mystery
The same time is preserved
Its calling is a song-perched halt. 

 

 

 

—Public Domain Visual Courtesy of Joe Nolan

NIGHT
—Sayani Mukherjee

I upheld the long-haul dream
The topsy-turvy menagerie
Of broken-threaded sweet pearls
That soothe my aching happiness
I dreamt in thee the songs of Paris
When evening comes I love your chestnut-
Brown symphonies raging a thousand oceans
The ukelele of national importance
Do I sing heaven’s ceremonies too?
Or when I plunge my needle I sink a little harder
Over little wishes that once carved your niche
Birds have their nests too
The sweet ocean of peripheral promised land
Come over and play your pulses
The smile is same but magnificent
The golden Gate surpassed us today, night. 

 

 

 

—Public Domain Visual Courtesy of Joe Nolan

 

LISTENING TO REPLAYS
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

I wasn’t listening.
There was something else
I wanted to say.
It got in the way and
I couldn’t hear
What you wanted to tell me.

What was it you said?
I couldn’t get it.
There was something else
Inside my head
That blocked up both my ears.
I didn’t want to forget it
So I let it do replays.

They say when you play
A record backwards
You hear strange things,
Like, “I buried Paul”
Or, “Paul is dead.”
I wonder if anybody really hears
The replays
Inside each other’s heads?

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

WHY DO I ITCH?
—Joe Nolan

Why do I itch?
Is it the arrival of a message
That it’s time to switch
Away from
What I been smokin’
Who I been doin’
Or what I been through?

Would it be enough
To just scratch it
To make it go away
Or do I need
Some kinda flea-powder
To shake and shake
Atop the offending place?

Stay tuned for further developments
As I run through the list
Of all the potential solutions
To this perplexing problem
Which might just be a portent
Of a need for change.

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

LIE LOW
—Stephen Kingsnorth

[a-musing on Joe Nolan’s fleas…]

Do all survive through camouflage,
stark stand out gone, as merge preferred?
We know the smallest, best defence,
adopt their leaf or branch as tent,
just as those fleas, in hair, on leg,
all playing dead, dead cert deployed.
But my red spots are proof they lie,
lowlife, lie low, outlier soon.

_____________________

 

Welcome to the second half of 2024, and many thanks to today's contributors from wide and far! Some of them have written about lust—always fun—our Seed of the Week. Be sure to check each Tuesday for the current SOW.

 

 

 

 Cover, The Cabin at the End of the World
—New book by Douglas Cole (Unsolicited Press)

 

SnakePal Douglas Cole has a new book out from Unsolicited Press by the name of The Cabin at the End of the World (https://www.unsolicitedpress.com/store/p458/theabinattheendoftheworld.html). Some of the work in it was posted in Medusa’s Kitchen once upon a time. Congratulations, Douglas! 

After a lot of nonsense and fol de rol last week, we finally have a shined-up FORMS! OMG!!! page (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/medusa-muses.html), with some dandy brush-ups and additions. I finally was able to list ALL the poem forms we’ve done over the years, with the caveat that you can’t use each poem’s link to get directly to its website; you’ll have to cut and paste. Sorry—Blogger cut me off, memory-wise. It’s still wonderful, though, to see all those forms and all the work Form Fiddlers have tackled so far. Feel free to pick one or two to fiddle with—such as the Toilet poem, maybe—and join us on Form Fiddlers' Friday sometime. (To see Russell Edson's Toilet poem, "With Sincerest Regrets"—yes, it's a thing— go to https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50780/with-sincerest-regrets/.)
 
There’s not much time left, but next Thursday, July 4, is the deadline for sign-ups for the annual Poetry Postcard Fest, organized by the Cascadia Poetics Lab. Go to: https://cascadiapoeticslab.org/how-it-works to learn all about it and to register. Poets from around the world are welcome! You don't have to write anything by the 4th, just register.

Three NorCal deadlines coming up soon: Monday (7/15) is the deadline for submissions to Sacramento Poetry Center’s upcoming exhibit of visual poetry (see  https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/events); then another 7/15 SPC deadline, this one for the next issue of Tule Review (https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/publications-tule-review). And 7/18 is the deadline for the annual Voices of Lincoln Poetry Contest (see https://slolowe44.blogspot.com/2024/03/2024-voices-of-lincoln-poetry-contest.html/. Click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) for details about these and other future poetry goings-on in the NorCal area.

_____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Cartoon Courtesy of Medusa

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that tonight, 6:15pm,
Rivertown Poets & Aqus Cafe
presents a Zoom reading with
Claire Baker and James Cagney;
then at 7:30pm,
Sacramento Poetry Center features
Nyeree Boyadjian and Keith Miller.
For info about these 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
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Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
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send poetry and/or photos and artwork
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that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!