—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Nolcha Fox
GRAND THEFT
Sunrise slips his fingers
through the bottoms of the curtains,
butter pooling on the floor
too early for my taste.
Soft grunts tell me my alarm dog
wants me to get up and start the day. Or else.
Birds chirp, a distraction meant
to keep me from perceiving
this band of thieves
has stolen all my dreams.
Sunrise slips his fingers
through the bottoms of the curtains,
butter pooling on the floor
too early for my taste.
Soft grunts tell me my alarm dog
wants me to get up and start the day. Or else.
Birds chirp, a distraction meant
to keep me from perceiving
this band of thieves
has stolen all my dreams.
DEEP DIVE
I climb the ladder from midnight sleep.
The new day is a high dive.
A somersault, I straighten out,
and drown in morning light.
WHAT’S FOR BREAKFAST?
I scramble my brains with cheesy jokes
and pour myself some coffee.
When I wake up, I’ll heat the pan
for words as crisp as bacon.
TOO COOL
The summer heat does not compete
with frosty ice-blue eyes.
Her dress a ripple, a breezy sail
as she sashays along.
Sweating men and panting dogs
follow in her wake.
She’s one hot dame, but men exclaim
she’s cool as a glass of water.
The summer heat does not compete
with frosty ice-blue eyes.
Her dress a ripple, a breezy sail
as she sashays along.
Sweating men and panting dogs
follow in her wake.
She’s one hot dame, but men exclaim
she’s cool as a glass of water.
WAITING TO BE WORN
Meeting misunderstandings
leave us punctured and jagged.
Abrasive reactions
cause bristled veneers.
Time will smooth out all our sharp edges,
if only I can wait to be worn.
ECHOES
Deaf, her voice climbs up in volume.
Stop and treat and feed.
Her barks bounce off the walls and ceilings.
Stop and treat and feed.
She is the shadow of our footsteps.
Stop and treat and feed.
We try to sleep, but she wants goodies.
Stop and treat and feed.
One day, she’ll leave her absence on the
cushion.
Stop and look and cry.
PARADISE
In our innocence, we were Adam and Eve
until another snaked into your life.
In our paradise, I was left alone,
cracked rib and indigestion.
In grief, the flowers wilted, trees fell
under thunderstorms and hail.
In opening my eyes, to my surprise,
raindrops bejeweled devastation.
In gratitude, flowers bloomed,
trees sent out new shoots.
In the end, I found paradise
in the little things around me.
FERAL
Hope is wild, wily, sly,
curious, but elusive.
I brush spider webs
of sorrow from my eyes
to see her prowl
from shadow to sun.
I blink, she’s gone. She only leaves
a trail of hairballs and splinters of grief.
CHRONIC PAIN
Nine years of daily chronic pain,
I thought that was my lot.
I waited patiently for pain
to leave and let me start my life.
And now, it’s gone, I should
feel free to live as I desire.
I hold my breath, afraid I’ll wake
to life with chronic pain.
DREAMS TO NIGHTMARES
Clouds wisp through my mind as
my eyes close to night.
They transform to carpets
that float into the sky.
The carpets unravel and
weave into dream scarves
that tangle and strangle
the sleep from my eyes.
Today’s LittleNip:
HEAVENLY
—Nolcha Fox
Meteor showers sing through the sky,
the night ablaze with falling jewels.
Their melody a heavenly song
only the angels can hear.
_____________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Nolcha Fox for today’s fine poetry, and for finding us the pix to go with it!
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa
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!
