—Illustrations Courtesy of Public Domain
ANOTHER WRITER
He’s smooth and beautiful,
An angel with words.
He always puts both feet forward,
Both of them being his best.
He chronicles the human heart
From past, to present and future,
Always seemingly at the right place
At the write time. Such ease
And wisdom pouring like honey
Over his myriad readers,
Who never fail to always follow
Wherever he takes them: a golden
Highrise, a blue mountain top,
A street too lonely to ever forget.
He’s smooth and beautiful,
You’d never doubt he had wings too.
He’s smooth and beautiful,
An angel with words.
He always puts both feet forward,
Both of them being his best.
He chronicles the human heart
From past, to present and future,
Always seemingly at the right place
At the write time. Such ease
And wisdom pouring like honey
Over his myriad readers,
Who never fail to always follow
Wherever he takes them: a golden
Highrise, a blue mountain top,
A street too lonely to ever forget.
He’s smooth and beautiful,
You’d never doubt he had wings too.
THE DAY IS RELIGIOUS
And an angel on the street
calls for me to come down.
“Don’t you mean come up?”
“Just do it,” she says, the irritation
in her voice can’t be hidden.
I put on my shoes and arrive to find
her gone. I’ve had it with the mysteries
of religion and decide to get
a bite at the diner, sunlight emerging
over my shoulder like a halo.
ROBERT KENNEDY IN APPALACHIA
He pushes himself up the dirt road,
sweat soaking into his white dress shirt.
A man says “That’s the Kennedy. Not
that anything’s gonna change.” “Nope,”
a woman says, “everything’s gonna change.
We just need to give him a chance.”
BRUCE LEE
He did his Kung Fu fighting
long ago
when Hong Kong was more village
than metropolis,
small buildings harbored along
the shore,
junks crammed together in a life
of rice and fish,
lights pulsating at night like fireflies,
twitching ancestors,
“Be like water” and all the boys and girls
tried their best.
Even the colonial authorities applauded
Lee and his afro-
haired heroes who kept the island safe
and admired,
the mainlanders close enough to touch
but so far away.
He did his Kung Fu fighting
long ago
when Hong Kong was more village
than metropolis,
small buildings harbored along
the shore,
junks crammed together in a life
of rice and fish,
lights pulsating at night like fireflies,
twitching ancestors,
“Be like water” and all the boys and girls
tried their best.
Even the colonial authorities applauded
Lee and his afro-
haired heroes who kept the island safe
and admired,
the mainlanders close enough to touch
but so far away.
PROPORTIONATE
A huge cruise ship
lumbers by our hotel window.
But my wife and I like boats
smaller and more human scale.
“Not for us,” we say in unison
and return to unpacking.
Later that afternoon from a tiny veranda
we watch sailboats come and go,
gliding better than marlins.
“That’s magnificent,” we say in unison
and stay until every boat ties up
for the night, secure in the sea’s hands.
POETRY FISH
The man is still fishing
with an hour to go until nightfall.
He must be a serious angler
judging by the plastic fish
festooned to his woolen hat.
“Hear the fish have been biting.”
“Nope,” he says, “haven’t had
a nibble since last Sunday.”
I tell him he sounds like a poet,
not knowing exactly why I did.
“Poetry fish,” he says, “don’t get
much of them around these parts.”
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.
—Henry David Thoreau
____________________
Newcomer Tim Suermondt’s sixth full-length book of poems, A Doughnut And The Great Beauty Of The World, came out in 2023 from MadHat Press. New York Quarterly Books will publish his latest collection, Spring Training In Paris, in 2024. He has published work in Poetry, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, The Georgia Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Stand Magazine, Smartish Pace, Barrow Street, Poet Lore, and Plume, among many others. He lives in Cambridge (MA) with his wife, the poet Pui Ying Wong. Welcome to the Kitchen, Tim, and don’t be a stranger!
_____________________
—Medusa
The man is still fishing
with an hour to go until nightfall.
He must be a serious angler
judging by the plastic fish
festooned to his woolen hat.
“Hear the fish have been biting.”
“Nope,” he says, “haven’t had
a nibble since last Sunday.”
I tell him he sounds like a poet,
not knowing exactly why I did.
“Poetry fish,” he says, “don’t get
much of them around these parts.”
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.
—Henry David Thoreau
____________________
Newcomer Tim Suermondt’s sixth full-length book of poems, A Doughnut And The Great Beauty Of The World, came out in 2023 from MadHat Press. New York Quarterly Books will publish his latest collection, Spring Training In Paris, in 2024. He has published work in Poetry, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, The Georgia Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Stand Magazine, Smartish Pace, Barrow Street, Poet Lore, and Plume, among many others. He lives in Cambridge (MA) with his wife, the poet Pui Ying Wong. Welcome to the Kitchen, Tim, and don’t be a stranger!
_____________________
—Medusa
Tim Suermondt
For 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!
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!
