Shall I Trust My Mirror?

 The Bird Didn't Have A Name

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

 

 

NOW YOU TOUCH ME WITH POEMS
—Joyce Odam

Now you touch me with poems;
words scatter all over me
till I am drenched and heavy.  
This was not what I meant . . .

Now you assault me with
words I am too slow to catch.
Shall I trust my mirror?  
I look through my mask of

ruined sequins and finger-marks
to my anonymous reflection,
your magnetic words adhering
to the glass—who I was

shivering in salt-light—
a sound of sea-waves rushing up
behind me, one last seagull swooping
toward me with its cold, metallic cry.
                                    

(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 3/6/18; 4/1/25)

 

 

 

 The Sip of Nectar

AWKWARD
—Robin Gale Odam

in the dream of climbing
the air, the awkward importance

of height and the senselessness of
dimension—the indiscernible falling

just before waking into the unex-
plainable measure of daylight

                          
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 4/18/23; 5/20/25) 

 

 

 

 To Go Away

CONFESSION
—Joyce Odam

You touch the gray light
at the edge of that dark word.
How you speak—

so dense and deliberate.  

Is it regret you say—
so heavy with pleading—
promising everything . . .

                        
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 3/6/18)

 

 

 

 The Old Voices

HER FATHER IN A DREAM OF WAKING
—Joyce Odam

Her father, in a dream of waking
looks for his ghost-child
afloat on the edge of his memory.

He does not remember her
though he feels he should:
What was her name?

He tries to say it,
but she eludes him.
She says, Father, and he disappears.

                                                     
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 1/12/11; 11/5/24)

 

 

 

 Only This Desire

NOIR LOVE
—Joyce Odam
After La Nebuleuse by Raoul Ubac, 1939

She materializes in tears
—only weeping knows her.

He can count on grief to love her.
She writhes in his mind.

He tries to hold her:
she is smoke . . .  she is air . . .

she is not there,
but he sees her.

Her eyes do not contain him,
her arms do not reach,

though he makes her dance
—a contortion

in the shining dark
of his possessive grief.


(prev. pub. in Noir Love, Rattlesnake LittleBook #2, 2009;
and in Medusa’s Kitchen, 04/1/25)

 

 

 

Color of Sound

origami heart
now a wad of blue paper
someone else’s trash

           —Robin Gale Odam


(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 8/22/23; 12/19/23;
1/27/25)

 

 

 

 Time As Timeless

Today’s LittleNip:

BECAUSE
—Joyce Odam

If I am bothering to cry,
why try to find a reason?

____________________

Joyce and Robin Gale Odam have written to us about exasperation, our Tuesday Seed of the Week; many thanks to them for their expertise. Now (and always) they touch us with poems~

 

Our new Seed of the Week is “Poets Lie”. Did you really have a one-eyed cat? Did your mother really have four thumbs and a birthmark? Did an owl really knock on your door one night, trying to get in? Poets are fanciful—some would call it lying—but we just call it imagination. Tell us about how poets lie, and 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

 

 

 

Hello September!

—Public Domain Photo 

Courtesy of Medusa

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that 

Moira Magneson & Samantha Tetangco Ocena

will read in Modesto tonight, 7pm.

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.

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 at 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!

 

LittleSnake is in 

a state of exasperation~