North Wales
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Medusa
DEAR JULIET
Listen
to a father’s foreboding
it’s a difficult time
when you’re half grown.
No longer a child,
but not yet an adult.
Half grown
with fully formed temptations,
and such contempt
for adults,
fathers especially,
you always know best
but listen,
the forbidden fruit
of first love
is poisonous
not for tasting
and when the feuds of the fathers
meet the dreams of the fathered
there are no happy endings.
You always knew best
until you didn’t.
So listen
and heed a father’s foreboding.
Listen
to a father’s foreboding
it’s a difficult time
when you’re half grown.
No longer a child,
but not yet an adult.
Half grown
with fully formed temptations,
and such contempt
for adults,
fathers especially,
you always know best
but listen,
the forbidden fruit
of first love
is poisonous
not for tasting
and when the feuds of the fathers
meet the dreams of the fathered
there are no happy endings.
You always knew best
until you didn’t.
So listen
and heed a father’s foreboding.
(First published in Heretics, Lovers and Madmen,
April 13, 2024)
THE NATURE OF LOVE
I love you father,
of course I do,
as any daughter would.
And Lear, you love me
as any father
would love his daughter.
Beyond that
real love needs respect
and respect follows actions
not birth,
not wealth,
not age.
My sisters love you
according to your worth
which is all to them
at this moment,
but not to me.
I am not for sale
and I judge worth differently.
Unconditional love is for dogs
and I’m not a dog
or even a bitch
or an insipid child.
I speak as a woman,
a thinking woman,
a strong woman
one who will lead
not follow you.
(First published in The Graveyard Zine, March 2023)
YORICK
Hello poor Yorick.
At last we meet
for the first and last time
alas.
You still have your crown
worn often in irony.
What a joke
that was
when you pranced around
in jest
to entertain
the one whose head
wore a different crown.
Both gone now.
Long gone.
Which king was he?
Alas
no one remembers.
It’s you
Yorick
who’ll be remembered.
Your name is writ
large
and,
at last,
inked
on your boney forehead.
So it’s you
who’ll last
forever,
at last.
(First published in Ekphrastic Review,
Vicente Challenge, November 2023)
BEING AND NOTHINGNESS
If all the world is a stage
then nothing is happening
in this theatre of the absurd.
Nothingness is being played out now
the gods have lost control
of the merry-go-round
and freedom reigns
in a world
where gods are meaningless
as Santa in summer
or stars in the sea.
They have walk-on parts
to give the audience a laugh
but nothing to say anymore.
Meaninglessness raises a laugh.
They can’t work it out
so it must be funny
surely.
Otherwise
what remains
but to
look around the stalls
and the circle
and the gods
to see
what that company
of actors,
that company of strangers
make of it.
They’re looking at each other
searching for something
to make sense
of what’s happening on stage,
of what’s happening in life
now the merry-go-round has stopped turning
and there is no meaning,
no purpose
anymore.
(First published in Cajun Mutt Press, 9/2/22)
FIGURE OF SPEECH
“Mad world,
mad kings,
mad composition,”
said Shakespeare’s King John
speaking anaphorically.
Who could disagree
in those times
or in these
or in most times
in between.
It takes an abstraction
to show it clearly,
to figure it out.
A figure to illustrate it perfectly.
A figure that sums it up
A figure that says it all.
(First published in Wiedeman Writing Challenge,
Ekphrastic Review, April 2020)
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”
—William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar
______________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Lynn White for her fine poems today on the theme of Shakespeare. “It takes an abstraction to show it clearly…”
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!—
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Photos in this column can be enlarged by
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Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
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by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
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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!
