And Then A Deer . . .

 

 Talisman
—Poetry by Joyce Odam and Robin Gale Odam,
Sacramento, CA
—Photos and Original Art by Joyce Odam

 

 

THIS MORNING
—Robin Gale Odam

then a deer passed by
over there along the shade
just before the trees

in a dash of light it was
or a splash of light it seemed

    ***

i’m sure it was a deer,
ok a splash of light then

a flick, a stream, a splash, a dash,
i’m sure it was a deer

a deer passed by—we were
standing here, and it passed by
over there

 

 

 

In These Acoustic Fields

                     

PASTORALE
—Joyce Odam

The animals here accept my music—
not so other singers and musicians
with their talented voices and hands.

Here, I can be indifferent to lack of
fame and play my bungle of songs
in concert to charmed creatures

who turn to listen with tame eyes
and mute attention in these
acoustic fields where summer has come

as I sit in its bright doorway . . .
singing and playing . . . my flute. . . my
guitar . . . my wooden drum . . .

                                        
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 8/23/24) 

 

 

 

Doing The Best We Can

A DEAR ONE HAS DIED
—Robin Gale Odam

After listening to “Try to Remember”
by The Sandpipers

it’s ok, you would say, we’re doing
the best we can . . .

september was mostly quiet,
and now you are gone away

december will bring
the cold and chill—the frozen
sky will long for you

i will pour the cold, black coffee,
keep what you have written 

 

 

 

 Look At The Weather

     

IN THE PERILOUS TIMES
—Joyce Odam

O, my little bird of tragedy—how sweetly
you sing, and how tenderly you cling,
to the golden branch of the singing tree.
And you aim for my heart, as if you were
a nightingale—and I thrill the more, for I
come from the land of sparrows and crows,
and the murmuring doves, when I wake up
in the fairy tale—and I don't know—and I  
don't care when I somehow find you there.                   

                        
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 5/17/22; 5/24/22; 8/12/25) 

 

 

 

 Old Secrets

A shudder of blue branches

woven together in all their directions
none hostile to another
nor greedy for space,

letting the blue light through
from the lowering sky
the blue dark adding its tones,

the trunks of the trees
standing
in old patience,

and the little filtering sounds
that speak to the hidden creatures
or only to each other,

and all night the brambles touch
and touch in a tender blindness
through the night hours.

            —Joyce Odam

(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 8/29/17; 4/26/22)

 

 

 

 Urgency Of Thought

THE ROAD
—Robin Gale Odam

a stirring of desire, the deliberate swirl
of tea leaves, the call of the grave

the near mirage, the promised reflection,
anoxic sea water for quench of thirst

a heartfelt something remembered, a force
of calling after, of letting go, of going away 

 

 

 

 Into Meaning

TOMORROW, WITH ITS MOON TO BE
—Joyce Odam

after
today’s night
long past its sunrise and hours

that will be the morrow
ever just beyond
the now

with what is curious or restless
or in need of what tomorrow
might not relive—

so many though
have passed the days that
never will become the morrow

                                              
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 7/26/22)

_____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

THE EYES OF THE ANIMALS        

deep pool eyes of
eloquent expression
—the eyes stay level
holding us accountable
innocent as the purity in the eyes
of babes or the honesty of mirrors


(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 5/25/21; 1/2/24)
                                
____________________

Our Tuesday Seed of the Week was “A deer passed by ; . .” Many, many thanks to Robin Gale Odam for keeping Joyce Odam’s poetry and visuals alive in the Kitchen by curating posts for us, both of Joyce’s work and of her own, and for continuing to do so in the future. The light in the kitchen burns brightly when the Odam poets come to cook!

A memorial/celebration of the life and poetry of Joyce Odam, who passed away in late September, will take place on Sunday, Oct. 12, 2pm, at

First Church of the Nazarene
1820 28th Street
(Corner of 28th & S Streets)
Sacramento CA 95816

Extra parking allowed in alley lot at back of church.

Robin reminds us that this is a memorial service, not a funeral. Come celebrate Joyce’s life and work!
 

On another note, our new Seed of the Week is “Empty beer cans”. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from. And see every Form Fiddlers’ Friday for poetry form challenges, including those of the Ekphrastic type.

Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week.

___________________

—Medusa

 '

 

 

 

Robin Gale Odam

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
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(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
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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!

 

Cookin' in the Kitchen~!