Don't Be Knotty . . .

 

Beet Tree
—Photo by Sarah Whiley (Courtesy of Nolcha Fox)
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Sayani Mukherjee, Caschwa, and Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Nolcha Fox, Joe Nolan, and Medusa

 

 

WILD REFUGE
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

Painted fish swim round
and round the beet
that peeks above the shrubs,
its branches an umbrella
that protects the fish from
wind and rain and sun.
Two sets of eyes and moat
are guards against a cat attack.
A mouth can sing alarm.
A sight so wild that passersby
can’t feel the tremors shaking
music from their plugged-in brains.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

REFUGE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Here in the kitchen, kitten litter.
Blind-sided by her choice for berth—
the cat-flap caused hatched plans to fade—
family planning dashed that day
as felt the felines there to stay.
Cute critters cleaving mother’s milk,
all prior programmes fell away.

Their refuse littered blanket, box,
though kids refused to clear or clean—
a stretch erstwhile intended, said—
but they knew sanctuary right,
a refuge proving natal worth.
Afforded to so many pets,
yet mothers, all, deserve that grace.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

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

God's bemoaning world will end
The sudden path of ups and downs
The silvery mist of downtown lake
A pleasant surprise of forsaken country
A numbness of watery filling
Paths of downtrodden decay
A rainbow will end before the sunrise
Of lungs and tissues of sinewy wild
A melancholic rain will come
A surmise of two pence jugglery
Nature's secrecy of forever past
Please offer an edifice of joy. 

 

 

 

  —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

 

 

MORNING MUSE
—Charles Mariano, Sacramento, CA

(for Scott Thomas Outlar)

always want to tell
another writer
the morning of
the day
about a thought they stirred

instead, it writes itself
in my head
and just stays there

like this guy
today,
Scott Somebody,

who dropped
a coupla great lines
from someplace
across the way,

“Hmm, this dude’s got something”

now he’s
a real writer
used words i had to dig
from Webster

if someone writes
a word or three
that hits the mark
i should tell ‘em,
before this stuff dissipates
into the fog,

this
is for Scott Somebody,
from me,
across the way,
thinkin' out loud

thank you  

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

AMAZING GREASE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

while I may have, but do not suffer
from Asperger’s Syndrome, the
world around me suffers from trying
to adapt to me

constantly oiling and greasing
the squeaky wheel of fiction
posing as facts, ads for recalled
food items still wearing the
cloak of non-GMO, triple-washed,
ready to eat

a veritable minefield of numerous
active explosive devices, surrounded
by barbed wire fences bearing signs
that threaten guard-dog vigilante justice
to those who defy the warnings

actors, posing as musicians playing
bugles without valves, while the
soundtrack has music played on
3-valve trumpets that clearly features
ascending and descending scale patterns
which are generally regarded as impossible
to play on a non-valve bugle

life insurance gambits featuring low rates
that won’t go up; however, given that life
expectancy charts show I may last another
decade or two, if one does the math it is easy
to see that anyone could choose to put that
monthly premium amount aside in their own
interest bearing account, and 10 years later
they would have an amount that far exceeds
what the giant insurance company would have
paid out

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

SPEAK TO ME
—Caschwa

but wait your turn
first green, then yellow
then painful orange

put down your rakes
that is no way to treat
the fallen who perished
so that you could survive

give them all the honor
that brave soldiers deserve
do not just sweep them
away like unwanted dirt,

destined to be washed
downhill to a grave for
the unknown

put down your rakes
silence your blowers, listen
to the sounds of falling
dreams, soon to be displaced
by Winter’s enchantment

people on the ground will
take lifts to hover over
fallen snow that blindly
buries fallen leaves, forever
forgetting what they stood for

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa

GIVING TUESDAY
—Caschwa

my wife died last year on a Saturday, leaving
behind a lot of fond memories of our 40+ years
together, and a lot of carefully picked clothes
neatly laundered and hung up in the closet
awaiting to be worn again

recently one TV news channel talked about an
apartment house fire in my neighborhood, that
left many residents with only the clothes on their
backs, then showed where a local business had
set out 2 giant bins to collect donations of clothes
to be distributed to these residents

consistent with the ideology practiced by my late
wife, I gathered piles of her clothes, some of which
were perfect to protect a body from the winter cold,
and deposited them in one of those bins.

Sorry, it was not on a Tuesday, more like a Friday,
but whatever. Like many charitable gestures, the
clothes drop was unrecorded and unwitnessed. And
now my closet has conspicuous empty spaces where
clothes had been tenderly hung, but hopefully, the
clothes are now in use by fire victims who had none.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

BLESSED BY INVERNESS
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

You were blessed
By Inverness—
Magic where you grew.

Gnomes and elves
Betook the place,
Among the gardens, grown.

Everywhere you looked
Was grace
As all the green leaves fell

When Autumn came
To signal-knell,
That colder
Days would come

To the most blessed
Of places,
In its cycle,
Ending each year,

But solstice, willing,
All would ramble
Into a burst of Spring,
To celebrate
Endless beauty,
Surrounding and
Enveloping
California’s most
Beautiful place.

 

 

 

Dust-Bunnies

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

DUST-BUNNIES RUN AMOK
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

The curse of dirty baseboards,
Dust-bunnies run amok,
A thousand cobwebs
Grace my walls
And run up to the ceilings.

The doorbell rings.
I’m out of luck.
I was hoping
To put a dent in it,
But now I’m out of time.
I hear the doorbell chime.
It’s time to let them in.
Oh, my chagrin.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

COLUMBIA SALMON HARVEST
—Joe Nolan

Let’s talk to each other
About our natures.
Let’s have a heart-to-heart.

Let’s set a picnic
On a pasture
And talk to a meadowlark.

Let’s hover over
Bodies below
As we let our
Souls take flight.

Let’s harvest salmon
After spawning,
Smoke them
On fires on spits
And devour them as there
Was no end
To our appetite and
Our need,

As our elder,
Native brothers
Did in their times of when
They gathered all together
Along Columbia’s banks
To harbor in its wonder
And for its bounty
Give thanks.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

A MESSAGE FROM THE SUN
—Joe Nolan

Just a little
Reminder,
A little
Tap on your shoulder,
A little,
“Ahem!  May I
Have your attention, Please?
You’re in the orbit
Of a star,
A star you call ‘the sun.’

I think of you often.
I hope you’ll do the same
Of me.
I send this little
Touch of my beauty
To let you know
I love you,
My darling planet.”

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan

 

Today’s LittleNip:

BLISS
—Joe Nolan

Each green glen
A pathway to Heaven,
Each lover
A bridge to the stars.

Distance
Unites us,
Forever.

Time disappears.
Near is not far.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa

I hope the dragon that is the holiday season hasn’t turned your life to toast, and that it is a friendly dragon visiting you this year. Thanks to today’s contributors, some of whom took refuge in our Seed of the Week, which was, well,  “Refuge”. (Be sure to check each Tuesday for our latest Seed of the Week.) And a note that Charles Mariano's "Mornng Muse" was inspired by Scott Thomas Outlar's visit to the Kitchen yesterday. Check it out!

Congratulations to Sacramento Poets, SnakePals, and members of Los Escritoires del Nuevo Sol, Graciela B. Ramirez and JoAnn Anglin, for reeiving California Senate Resolutions honoring them for their contributions to “the greater good”. It’s always wonderful when poets receive their just due! For more info, see https://escritoresdelnuevosol.org/f/graciela-b-ram%C3%ADrez-and-joann-anglin-honored-by-california-senate/. Again, congratulations to two fine poets!

______________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 Sacramento’s Graciela B. Ramirez and JoAnn Anglin
receiving their resolutions~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that
Poetic License meets in Placerville
today, 10:30am; and
Sacramento Poetry Center
presents its Youth Open Mic
tonight, 7:30pm.
For more 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
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!

 

Don’t get yourself all tied up 

in knots over the holidays!