Pages

Monday, November 25, 2024

Welcome, Sagittarius!

 —Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
JoyAnne O’Donnell, Victor Kennedy, 
Joe Nolan, and Caschwa
—Original Photo Courtesy of Victor Kennedy
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of Medusa


DON’T TALK TO ME ABOUT MORNINGS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

Some mornings my thinking
shrinks embryonic when
coffee is out of my reach.
Brain cells don’t spark.
My eyeballs go dark.
I’m a danger to all in my way.
Give me some time
to squirt caffeine in veins
and my brain starts
to grow to full size.
When my husband wakes up
I’m my normal old self.
He calls out Hi Babe.
He has no idea
that he’s righter
than he’d ever know.
 
 
 


EGG PLANT
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Here’s brave new world, concern, whose health? —
that embryo afloat, sac space,
its harbour, womb protecting it,
or mother ship sustaining it,
new questions raised by science’s wealth?

It is the acorn to the oak,
potential, yet but wrought in thought,
still wrapped, awaiting ripcord, bloom,
for ready landing in its field,
its teleology uncloaked.

There’s classic claim, yet powder keg,
seen jelly caught in scrambling whisk
when yolk, glair albumen are mixed,
as chicken out on purpose, cause,
with white wisp in cracked breakfast egg.

Why slight unease at sight, cells’ gel,
when viable is never scene?
Distaste that I should eat what might
in other worlds be scratching dust,
but dust to dust, I leave but shell?
 
 
 
 

CARDINALS IN THE EVENING
—JoyAnne O’Donnell, Emmitsburg, MD

I noticed cardinals
come around near dark
they feel safe
they love to eat sunflowers
then take a rain shower. 
 
 
 
 

AUTUMN’S EMBRACES
—JoyAnne O’Donnell

The cool air
feels great
the colors
of the stars
in the tree leaves
whispering then falling
yellow and tan
a place to relax
in the mountains
and the splashing brook’s fountains.
 
 
 
 Vanesa’s Tattoo (by Rebecca)
—Photo by Victor Kennedy


VANESA’S EYES
—Victor Kennedy, Maribor, Slovenia

Vanesa’s eyes are something like the sun.
She may not be a raging furnace of nuclear fusion
hurtling through space at 370 km/s
with respect to the cosmic microwave background
radiation,
but they do bring warmth and light to the room
she’s in.
 
 
 


TIDDLY-WINKS
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

The object of
Tiddly-winks
Is to make a flat disc
Hop across a table
By fiddling with its edge.

Perhaps it embodies
All our border-wars,
As invasion after invasion
Makes them hop across our maps.

Who gets these ideas
To make borders hop
Across a map,
Washed along
By rivers of blood?

It must be those
Who profit, therefrom—
Wise to ask,
“Qui bono.”
 
 
 


NO MIDDLE GROUND
—Joe Nolan

We tried to meet
Somewhere in the middle,
But found there was no middle—
Only separate
Gravity fields
Separated by huge vacuums
In which nothing could survive.

The gravity fields
Were only there
To suck you in
To a violent incineration
As you entered the atmosphere
At blinding speed.

There was no place
For comfort or need,
Only the grabbing
Ways of greed.
 
 
 
 

HOLLOWNESS
—Joe Nolan

You should
Try to address her
Emptiness,
Address, or else
Refrain,
From fool’s errands
That never end,
That only cause you pain.

If you address
Her emptiness,
The hollowness
That makes her rage,
Remember those
Who’ve gone before
Who tried to carry
Whatever for
To try to fulfill
Their duty.

Remember well
The living hell
Of perpetual servitude—
The slow decline,
The years that tell,
The descent of
Ending’s curtain.

Understand
There’s no remorse,
No contrition,
No forgiveness—
No center there
To be forlorn
When you walk away.
 
 
 
 

PAST MY “BEST-BY” DATE
—Joe Nolan

Twenty years past
My “best by” date
Or maybe it’s
Thirty or forty,
Getting ready
To meet my fate
In my quiet
Retirement.

How rust never sleeps
Becomes clear—
Conveyor belts
Raise chunks of coal
Higher and higher
Until they all drop off
Into a coal-car’s bin.
 
 
 


FIVE-CARD DRAW
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

you ante up, you’re ready to play
the dealer deals 5 cards to each player
except you only get 4 cards

you double-check to make sure one is
not just sticking to another, no that’s
not it

you tell the dealer what the problem is
the dealer tells you to place your bet
like everyone else

the House has it all on camera to ensure
nobody cheats the House, but you are in
no position to exercise that privilege

the dealer reminds you if you leave now
you forfeit your ante and lose your bet

then you wake up…WHERE ARE YOU?

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

MAKE WHOLE GREAT AGAIN
—Caschwa

The whole is greater than the sum
of its parts.
            —Aristotle

we won’t ever improve America’s
status by scolding, shaming, or
belittling various parts; the task
before us is to bring those parts
together in harmony, so that the
sum of those parts will define our
greatness

__________________

Our thanks to today’s contributors for this fine poetry, greater than the sum of its parts. Some of today's poets worked with our current Seed of the Week, “Embryo”, as we come to the embryo of a new year. Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.



 JoyAnne O’Connell
 
Newcomer JoyAnne O'Donnell is the author of Winds of Time, Spring & Summers Veil. Welcome to the Kitchen, JoyAnne, and don’t be a stranger!
 
Deadline for poetry submissions to Song of the San Joaquin is next Monday, Dec. 2. Send three poems and a short bio to Jim Shuman at song.poet@global.net/. Info/guidelines: https://www.chaparralpoets.org/SSJsubmissionGuide.html/.

And NorCal poets will be saddened to learn of the passing of Kathryn Hohlwein last week. Rest in poetry, Kathryn; you will be missed.

__________________

—Medusa, with hopes for a peaceful, grateful Thanksgiving for all of us~
 
 
 
 Sagittarius~
Welcome to the days of 
The Archer! (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
















 
 
 
 
 
Just a reminder that
Sacramento Poetry Center features
Eleni Sikelianos and musicians
Kai White & Joe Sikelianos
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!