Three Little Fishies
—Illustration by Nolcha Fox
(with Microsoft Designer)
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Claire J. Baker,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Caschwa, and Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Joe Nolan and Medusa
—Illustration by Nolcha Fox
(with Microsoft Designer)
* * *
—Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Claire J. Baker,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Caschwa, and Joe Nolan
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy of
Joe Nolan and Medusa
THE GREAT ESCAPE
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Three little fish popped
up their heads to see
some distant mountains.
They were so bored
with underscape, a vacay
sounded awesome.
They swam towards shore,
but lost their way,
and zigged instead
of zagged. They didn’t
know that lures were fake.
Their vacay was a bucket.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Three little fish popped
up their heads to see
some distant mountains.
They were so bored
with underscape, a vacay
sounded awesome.
They swam towards shore,
but lost their way,
and zigged instead
of zagged. They didn’t
know that lures were fake.
Their vacay was a bucket.
BEYOND ABSURD
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
What term is used when such observed—
that further stage, craze left behind—
bizarre is not enough described?
I did check out the gazetteer,
to find Absurd, if did exist,
discover if place lies beyond?
Grotesque to quirky, curious,
what can be character portrayed,
the kinky, eccentric, outré too?
Outlandish, and the whacky, quaint,
amazement caused by step too far,
the ration of our thought outstretched.
That surreal, out-of-the-way,
an off-piste ski through avalanche,
and read as Kafkaesque indeed.
’Tis risible, though nervous grin,
as new wave artistry throughout,
our story, cubist, dada, fauve.
Set template thrown, incongruous,
preposterous as vocalised
but ludicrous, when playing, rules.
Graffiti, writing off the wall,
convention-breaking theatre,
conspiracies, in theory launched.
Hypocrisies, establishment,
financial dealings of the rich,
and double standards, justice judged.
So bounced and trounced, imbalance’ fount,
as smashing of assumption’s rôle,
reductio ad absurdum.
That logic of the ancient Greeks,
still national, rational holds.
Our faith, with logic, seemly dies,
but life defies, decries that bet;
beyond absurd, lost common sense,
where could be grounded, game, set, match.
Distant from the site of reason,
for far is how we treat the earth;
on the farther side of nonsense,
we hurt another, there, beyond.
So farther, far, and yonder, yon,
just keep a little space, absurd.
A WILDERNESS OF GRIEF
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
I linger in a chaotic landscape—
like the first grotto at Lourdes?
But I’ll not see the Lady,
golden roses round her feet,
nor Bernadette on bended knee
urging me to pray
amid the briers of this day.
Though bare trees, leaf mold,
foxtails, weeds, and I prepare
a fitting place, I don’t expect
to see the Lady’s face
or feel Her presence full of grace . . .
The Angel will not visit a free-thinking
rebel like me, though She may finger
a rosary, reflecting on Holy signs
marking this day,
mercifully kind in their way . . .
Sitting on a mossy log amid shadows,
I stare at a lavender thistle, bare
my blatant lack of belief;
the thistle, as I prepare to leave,
becomes as moving as She.
LIVING IN ARREARS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
(Beyond Absurd)
O say can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly you bought at a great discount
sale?
Its broad golden shine and bright silver claims
through mysterious light were so forcefully
bragging.
And your budget's red glare, the debt wholly unfair,
Gave proof through the night that earned trust was
not there, O say does that entangled offer yet pro-
mise a land of the free and a home as you see your
whole life through the mists of the deep Where the
bank’s haughty mortgage in dread silence reposes,
Look at those ads which the breeze, o'er the tower-
ing steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half-
discloses? Now it catches the gleam of morning
mail’s first plunk, A whole different story now
appears in the light. ’Tis the entangled contract—
O long may it wave O'er the land of the unem-
ployed and the home of the tattered bunk! And
where is that band who so vauntingly swore, That
the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home
and a Country should leave us no more?
The money has wash'd out with polluted appeals.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave From
the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave, And
the entangled contract in triumph doth wave O'er
the land of investors and the home of the knave. O
thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between
their lov'd home and the war's desolation! Blest
with vict'ry and peace may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the power that hath made and preserv'd us
an investment! Then conquer we must, when our
cause it is just, And this be our motto— "Don’t
cede your trust," And the entangled contract in
triumph shall forever wave O'er the homeless
veterans and their graves.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
DEAR GOD
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
(Birds of a Feather)
Please listen, I beg of you, hear my
one, simple, modest wish that is very
similar to one you granted not too
long ago
Give me a winning Lottery ticket and
on the first day only, I will be in the
shoes of a dictator and issue many
commands
After that, great care will be expended
to share the money with those who need
it the most, the poor, the needy, the ill,
all my supporters
Thank you in advance, dear Lord, for
hearing my plea, which I make in
earnest for the betterment of the nation,
as I see fit
—Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa
OUR GREAT IMPERFECTIONS
—Caschwa
The awesome Liberty Bell
replicated aplenty as
miniatures, with cracks and
all found at swap meets,
thrift stores, online, made
in China, such patriot appeal!
store it in the Hope Chest
with the folded flag that
once draped Dad’s coffin
tell the kids stories about
its meaning, that’s OK,
facts optional, ad lib at will
the Bell that was to ring truth
and freedom forever now
silenced by a self-proclaimed
king who maintains a Hall of
Besties, all driven by greed, the
highest common denominator
don’t let this be the new normal,
else the Constitution, Due Process,
Rule of Law, Statue of Liberty, and
immortal speeches by our patriots
will freeze in place like those cracks
in that Bell that can no longer ring
—Caschwa
The awesome Liberty Bell
replicated aplenty as
miniatures, with cracks and
all found at swap meets,
thrift stores, online, made
in China, such patriot appeal!
store it in the Hope Chest
with the folded flag that
once draped Dad’s coffin
tell the kids stories about
its meaning, that’s OK,
facts optional, ad lib at will
the Bell that was to ring truth
and freedom forever now
silenced by a self-proclaimed
king who maintains a Hall of
Besties, all driven by greed, the
highest common denominator
don’t let this be the new normal,
else the Constitution, Due Process,
Rule of Law, Statue of Liberty, and
immortal speeches by our patriots
will freeze in place like those cracks
in that Bell that can no longer ring
—Public Domain Illustration Courtesy of Medusa
TWEEN TWEEDLE AND ‘DEE
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
There was an epic battle
‘Tween Tweedledum and ‘dee,
Over much of nothing
As far as we could see,
Parsing fine points
Of meaning,
Which led to a major schism
That’s gone on for centuries.
If only we could tell
Just what they were saying
Oh, so long ago
Under the shade of a bodhi tree
That made the world unwell.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Medusa
THE RIGHT MOMENT
—Joe Nolan
At just the right moment,
She forgets who’s on top.
It has to be someone.
Let it be him.
Her mind slips into star-banks
Where unborn children smile
Waiting for their chance to be born.
She floats completely weightless
As do they.
Her gaze catches one
Out of billions
And he slips in.
Just then,
She screams.
ETERNITY PASSING BY
—Joe Nolan
A big black hole
At the center of a galaxy
Enables its rotation
From spiral-tip
To spiral-tip,
Over trillions of miles.
Only one dark anchor
Controls the flight of ships
Of billions of brilliant
Light blips
That lighten the darkened sky,
So bright in the darkness!
You may not cast your eye
In their direction
Lest you become blind.
So bright,
So dark,
So bright,
So dark,
We almost cannot see.
The vastness
Seems eternity,
But it’s not.
It’s just another galaxy
Among quadrillions,
Speeding away
In flight
From a common center
That long ago let fly
Everything we know
And have not yet
Discovered
That goes on all around us
Though we never notice
Eternity passing by.
____________________
Today’s LittleNip:
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment.
—Anonymous
____________________
—Medusa, with many thanks to today’s contributors! In case you couldn’t tell, our Seed of the Week was “Beyond Absurd”. Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.
Next time, keep your eyes where
they belong, Buster~
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joe Nolan
A reminder that
Poetry in Motion meets
today in Placerville, 10:30am;
and Youth Open Mic
takes place at 7:30pm,
Sacramento Poetry Center.
For 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
Poetry in Motion meets
today in Placerville, 10:30am;
and Youth Open Mic
takes place at 7:30pm,
Sacramento Poetry Center.
For 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!