Snakes with New Faces (With Love)

WHEN LOVE COMES
—Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos

When love comes

the limbs of those who cannot stand

will be sweet as rushes on riverbanks.

White clouds will mass themselves

high and higher

to fan the light down in gold showers

that touch the drunk

who lies comatose

at the edge of the city dump

by blue daisies.

When love comes

those who face death will ascend lightly

over salt marshes and desert dunes

in a great procession against the blue sky

like birds migrating.

When love comes

the woman with liver spotted hands

will no longer be bitter

and her daughter

will sing at her kitchen sink that day.

When love comes

we will wait for whatever we wait for

with great sweetness.

While standing in line

we will touch one another and sing

when love comes.

_______________________

Thanks, Steph! Stephani Schaefer is helping us continue the "Love: Can't Live With It/Can't Shoot It In the Head" ruminations that Medusa has posted recently. Here's another:

BACK PORCH
—Stephani Schaefer

Tonight I dream
you show up at my door
summer night like this
moths gaining entry
while I hold the screen wide
as wide as I want to hold
my arms for you but don't
guard my heart instead
give friendly but casual greeting
talk without listening
without fully receiving you
confused by your appearance
where I had woven a careful blank
erased expectancy
settled for an empty back porch.

_______________________

Watch for more of Stephani's work in Rattlesnake Review #12, due out tomorrow. Come to the reading at The Book Collector tomorrow night at 7:30 PM and pick one up for free! We gave the Wiley Varmint a new printer as an early Christmas present, and I think you'll be pleased at how great the photos look, how sharp the text is. And MAN! is it easier for me—twice the copies in half the time! NOW we're cookin'...

Two more poems, this time from Rattlechapper Allegra Jostad Silberstein, who also has poems in the upcoming issue:

CALVARY GLIMPSED
—Allegra Jostad Silberstein, Davis

The sun at two o'clock
cuts a narrow path across
my living room floor.

Low in the sky it pokes through
the upper branches of the old jack pine
that spreads wide at the base.

I gather up newspapers
for recycle
death and carnage folded over.

Through closed windows I hear
the wind hum, see the limbs
of the valley oak whipped back and forth.

How the leaves have thinned.
How green the valley grass.
So loud, the ticking of my clock

Hour by hour, the crossing over.

______________________

THE EMPTIED PAIL
—Allegra Jostad Silberstein

The road:
these broken lines,
the hooded rectangles
that voice our crossing over.

The sky:
a scatter of stars
above the pale horizon
touched with the sun's rouge.

The distance:
lifts and turnings
to marked destinations
and miles in unmarked territory.

The silence:
that damp shine
in the emptied pail:
all the words poured out.

_______________________

Thanks, Allegra!

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

Did I Mention It Was An Even Dozen?

THE MOON CATCHER
—Richard Zimmer, Sacramento

The Story Teller settled in his chair,
lit his pipe and asked his audience
what story they would like to hear.

He then told a tale of the Chinese poet
Li Po, who was reading a poem to the moon.
He leaned over to catch its reflection,
and fell into the Yellow River and drowned.

The Story Teller smiled, as he added—
Li Po then, was carried away on the back
of a dolphin, for a trip to join the Immortals.

_______________________

Thanks, Richard! Watch for more of Richard Zimmer's work in the outcoming Rattlesnake Review #12, which will be available starting this coming Wednesday night at The Book Collector (or winging your way if you are a contributor or subscriber).


Also this week (a busy Friday!):

•••Today (Mon. 12/11), Rattlechapper Susan Kelly-DeWitt will have a poem featured on Garrison Keillor's "Writer's Almanac”. Go to the following site to locate the poem: http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

•••Tonight (Monday, 12/11), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Mendocino County Poets Teresa Whitehall, Linda Noel, and Devreaux Baker. HQ for the Arts, 25th & R Sts., Sac. Info: 916-979-9706. Or heck—get there at 5:45 PM for the Poetry Center Board meeting—the public is invited.

•••Also tonight (12/11), 8 PM: The Moody Blues Poetry Series meets at A Taste of Laguna (Southern cuisine), 9080 Laguna Main, in Laguna. $5.

•••Tuesday (12/12), 8:30 PM: Bistro 33 Poetry Series meets in Historic Davis City Hall, 226 F St. (3rd & F) in Davis. Open mic follows.

•••Weds. (12/13), 7:30 PM: The Finklemans will be premiering their new SnakeRings SpiralChap, Poems in Two Voices, a collection of their two-voice poems and Joe's art, at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. The readers will also be accompanied by flute and percussion! Also premiering that evening will be Grace Notes, a littlesnake broadside by Bob Stanley, and Bob will be on hand to read from that, too; plus, new issues of Rattlesnake Review and the teen journal, VYPER, will be there in a free for all free-for-all! Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else's and join us for the Rattlesnake Press Holiday Extravaganza.

•••Also Weds. (12/13), 10 PM-midnight: Mics and Moods features New York Slam Poet Jamie Kilstein at Capitol Garage, 1500 K St., Sac. Open mic.

•••Thurs. (12/14), 8-11 PM: Vibe Sessions at Cobbler Inn, 3520 Stockton Blvd. (next to Colonial Theater). $5, all ages, open mic.

•••Friday (12/15), 7:30 PM: Hope & Humor & Unsafe Topics (A Poetry Reading by Luke Warm Water) will be presented by Los Escritores Del Nuevo Sol at La Raza Galeria Posada (LRGP), 1024 22nd Street, Sac. American Indian Poet Luke Warm Water, an enrolled member of the Oglala Lakota tribe, was born and raised in Rapid City, South Dakota. Many of his poems contain unsafe topics; they have perspectives of racial issues past and present, along with adult themes and content. But his poems also have a sense of hope and a thread of humor—often dark humor. Since 2000, Luke has featured at poetry venues throughout the U.S. and in Europe. He also won several Poetry Slams from Oregon to Germany. Recent publication credits include: Drumvoices Revue, Cold Mountain Revue and Red Ink. In 2005, Luke released his latest collection of poems, entitled On Indian Time, along with his animated short film, Iktomi And The Food Stamp Incident. Luke is an activist for Indigenous people's rights, especially in the cause to help end the unjust incarceration of American Indian activist Leonard Peltier. His latest book and short film (on DVD) will be available for sale. Also, information brochures will be available on Leonard Peltier. This reading is sponsored by Writers of the New Sun / Escritores del Nuevo Sol. a writing group founded in 1993. Its philosophy is similar to the philosophy of LRGP, which serves to foster, preserve and present the best of Chicano/Latino and Native American culture. Info at www.escritoresdelnuevosol.com Or, call 916-456-5323. Donation: $5 or as you can afford.

•••Friday (12/15), 7 PM: Our House Poetry Series features Mary Field and Taylor Graham. Open mic follows. Our House Gallery & Framing is located at 4510 Post St. in El Dorado Hills Town Center; take the Latrobe Road exit south and turn east into the shopping center. There is no charge.

•••Bob Stanley, President of Sacramento Poetry Center, writes: Friday, December 15 is our day to wrap presents for customers and garner donations at Barnes and Noble (Sunrise), 9 AM-11 PM. We are looking for volunteers to spend a few hours wrapping. (This is different from “rapping,” which used to mean talking intently with others, but now has a more rhythmic connotation.) Brad Buchanan is keeping track of who will be there when—probably afternoon and evening will be the busiest times—so please let him know what you can do. If you have questions, you can contact Brad at buchanan@saclink.csus.edu. Please help if you can, and bring a friend!

•••Saturday (12/16), 7-9 PM: Underground Poetry Series presents Mario Ellis Hill, Jamie Kilstein, Born 2B Poets and Bloom Beloved, plus open mic. Underground Books, 2814 35th St. (off Broadway), $3.

_______________________

A couple of deadlines this Friday:

•••Deadline is 12/15 for this year’s Sacramento Poetry Center’s Poetry Contest; judge will be Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. First prize $100, second prize $50, third prize $25, ten honorable mentions ($10 gift certificates from Barnes & Noble). Entry fee $3 per poem. Send your poems to SPC 2006 contest, 1719 25th Street, Sacramento, CA 95816. Winners will be notified in January, featured in Poetry Now, and invited to read at a special reading at SPC. Please submit one anonymous copy of each poem along with a cover sheet listing titles, first lines and contact information.

•••Friday (12/15) is also the next deadline for Song of the San Joaquin, a quarterly publication of the Poets of the San Joaquin chapter of the Calif. Federation of Chaparral Poets, Inc. Song of the San Joaquin accepts submissions of poetry having to do with life in the San Joaquin Valley of California. This area is defined geographically as the region from Fresno to Stockton, and from the foothills on the west to those on the east. Send typed manuscripts to: Cleo Griffith, Editor, Song of the San Joaquin, PO Box 1161, Modesto, CA 95353-1161. Please include a self-addressed, stamped envelope (SASE) for return of unused poems and/or notification of acceptance. Be sure your return envelopes have the right amount of postage. Notification time may range from three weeks to three months. Send up to three poems per issue, name and contact information on each poem. E-mail submissions accepted. Please send a three to five line bio. For more information e-mail ssjq03psj@yahoo.com. For samples of poetry from previous issues: www.ChaparralPoets.org/SSJarchives.html. Photographs and art-work may be submitted for consideration for use on the cover, but should be identified as valley scenes. Sample copies of past issues may be obtained for $4.50. Beginning with the Winter Issue 2006, Vol. III, No. 1 a single issue will be $5.00, the annual subscription $18. Send to address above. Make checks out to Song of the San Joaquin.


a survival guide
—dawn dibartolo, sacramento

the world is full of assholes
and it drains me being one of them.

~*~

i shall never love again,
for to do so would be
admitting that i still believe
and i'm far too jaded for such things.

~*~

"i don't care" can guide me
thru the valleys of other's indecision
but can't lead me toward
the fullness of my own soul.

~*~

to bathe oneself in the
fiery spit-sweat-tears-and-cum
of one's own past
makes for the newborn organism,
each day, the phoenix
rising from one's own
sea of mirrors ~
for mirrors never lie.

~*~

trust no one ~ not even yourself ~
and leave nothing to chance
~ inherit only decisiveness
and make a lifetime of your choices.

~*~

and in the unavoidable fades-to-black,
fight hard to keep the color as it dies
because, trust me,
you'll want to remember soon enough.

________________________

november, 5:13 p.m.
—dawn dibartolo, sacramento

the air is biting cold
and the moon is rising tainted,
consuming a horizon
that's murky, at best.
and it happens that
the freeway i'm on
goes on into the center.
and then its just me and the moon,
and the hundreds of swarming cars
don't exist ~
i'm being called into perfection.
the freeway goes on forever
and isn't moving,
and the darkness is reaching for me,
pulling into my center,
and i'm thinking, there are those
i've tried so hard to love,
and loved so very hard,
in good times, in bad,
and in way past done,
that cannot hear me.
i've screamed from the top of my pain
and been silenced.
there are those i've loved
whose womb cradled my expression
into art ~
and all art is born of a love
for something ~
and been hand-fed my own waste
in the name of righteousness.
and,
there are those i've loved
that are not perfect at all,
yet, our love is
~ perfection ~
so i know i'm fully capable
of the deed,
yet the sepia shade of the moon
alludes otherwise, pulling,
and suddenly i'm losing ground
and giving in to gravity again.

_______________________

Thanks, Dawn! Watch for more of dawn dibartolo's work in Rattlesnake Review #12 (an even dozen!)—did I mention it was coming out this Wednesday...?

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

To Gather Paradise

#657
—Emily Dickinson

I dwell in Possibility—
A fairer House than Prose—
More numerous of Windows—
Superior—for Doors—

Of Chambers as the Cedars—
Impregnable of Eye—
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky—

Of Visitors—the fairest—
For Occupation—This—
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise—

________________________

As imperceptibly as Grief
The summer lapsed away—
Too imperceptible, at last,
To seem like Perfidy—
A Quietness distilled
As twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon—
The Dust grew earlier in—
The Morning foreign shone—
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest who would be gone—
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.

—Emily Dickinson
_______________________

My life closed twice before its close—
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

—Emily Dickinson

______________________

Emily Dickinson would have been 176 years old today.

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

They Call Him the Wrapper...

Kandinsky's Dance, by Joseph Finkleman

COSMIC INTERSECTION
—Susan Hennies Finkleman, Sacramento

For months, the small clicks of the tumblers aligning,
parallel universes drawing close as jam on toast.
Time is molasses but the light has such clarity
that I am dancing in the choreography of each shining mote of dust.
And then the convergence –
for one luminous instant I can choose to step into an alternate world
or not
and then it’s all rushing away at 186,000 miles per second,
setting its new course.

_______________________

Thanks, Susan and Joe! The Finklemans will be premiering their new SnakeRings SpiralChap, Poems in Two Voices, a collection of their two-voice poems and Joe's art this coming Wednesday (12/13) at 7:30 PM at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento. The readers will also be accompanied by flute and percussion! Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else's and join us for our holiday extravaganza.

Also premiering that evening will be Grace Notes, a littlesnake broadside by Bob Stanley, and Bob will be on hand to read from that, too.

LONG STORY SHORT
—Bob Stanley, Sacramento

Sure, Mr. G’s a friend of mine, great friend
of mine, he has this big company, everybody
goes to him for what they make. I’m not quite
sure – electronics, you know – but they love him.
He’s leading edge, top of his game.

Always was a little left of center, anyway,
he gets involved with this artist crowd, a theater
fund-raiser, a walk on the bridge, too many drinks,
then we hear there’s a girl in the picture, she gets
hold of him, problems with the wife, that sort of thing.

Before you know it he’s lost it completely – the kids,
boat at the lake, divorce is final, and he’s playing
violin for Christ’s sake at a bluegrass bar in the tenderloin
and they give him beers and he walks home loaded
till even the girl gives up on him and he’s got nowhere to go.

Long story short he gets the prostate deal, fast like
fire in the wind, two months and he’s gone, big
strong guy withered away to nothing in a heartbeat.
I didn’t go, but everybody’s at the funeral – junkies,
banjo players, the whole industry, the goddamn
Governor was there I tell you, yeah, he’s my pal, great friend of mine.

_______________________

SWEET FIRE
—Bob Stanley, Sacramento

When the Mongolian cellist astounded Charlie Parker in ’55,
it was shot glasses of rice-liquor all around; the singer
began singing in two voices at once, and lamb
arrived at the table, its roasted ribs splayed like a
Bach fugue, going both directions at the same time.

Ghengis Khan was there, and the first emperor of the Qin.
“Not Ching,” he laughed loudly, food in his mouth, but “Chin,
Like on your face,” then, “Smile when you say that,”
He looked nervously around the joint with all its cats,
wishing he was safely in his tomb with eight thousand men.

All the music rolled into one that night, Lionel Hampton
rang them bronze bells, and Chairman Mao, (his musical career
having been cut short by the cultural revolution) really aired it out
on a flugelhorn solo. If you’ve never heard the Dalai Lama scat
over rhythm changes, you’ve really missed something.

After midnight when eunuchs tore down the sound system,
Reporters and agents waited by the Great Wall
smoking camels, expecting some good to come of it,
but all we had was memories of drumbeats - perforations on maps
and the sweet fire that sometimes blows from one man’s horn.

_______________________

Thanks, Bob! Also premiering that night will be Rattlesnake Review #12 (an even dozen!) and Issue #5 of VYPER, the journal of poetry from youngsters 13-19. Be there!

By the way, Bob Stanley, President of Sacramento Poetry Center, writes: Friday, December 15 is our day to wrap presents for customers and garner donations at Barnes and Noble (Sunrise), 9 AM-11 PM. We are looking for volunteers to spend a few hours wrapping. (This is different from “rapping,” which used to mean talking intently with others, but now has a more rhythmic connotation.) Brad Buchanan is keeping track of who will be there when—probably afternoon and evening will be the busiest times—so please let him know what you can do. If you have questions, you can contact Brad atbuchanan@saclink.csus.edu. Please help if you can, and bring a friend!

_______________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

Love...sick...

TROUBLE AT THE SACRAMENTO DOUBLE TREE BAR
—Michelle Kunert

I went to the Thursday night Salsa dance for "singles"
at the Double Tree Inn bar
but I wonder if the motel name means where it stands between,
as in the ones in the beginning of the Garden of Eden,
or even closer yet to that infamous tree of knowledge,
being as there were men I got inspired to say to—
look, if you're already married,
what are you looking for here?
If you think you want me as your mistress,
you better be smarter and richer than you are
I said, so please get far away from me
And I thought of asking back what I did pay to leave
not virginal but I still feel used as did Eve—
the first to protest in the world that nothing is fair—
so I am wary of anyone who offers me a drink.
Also immigrants will serenade you at the Double Tree
whose stories sounded pretty much sound like
"I just got to meet that special American lady
and need to get naturalization papers
and then I can bring over my family"
as if love naturally came with green cards, or rather tarja verdes.
Even the fat, middle-aged Mexican who stepped on my feet
'cause he failed miserably at Cuban rumba:
Frankenstein thought he had a chance on me, even slim as it was.
Walking out on a dance with a man old enough to be my dad
I met an East Indian who works for Intel
who was also tired of the floor of rhythmless zombies.
I said "My, you're handsome like those Indians who are TV stars,
almost kind of like those musical opera movies I've seen."
My flattery made him laugh
But I didn't expect to get Mr. Wanna Be Karma Sutra—
After sharing a friendly game of pool and a beer
his hands that suddenly took mine felt almost like ice,
hands that maybe got hired for playing an engineering counsel like a sitar
simply didn't get any warmer as they got worked up next on my body
"You are really getting tense right now..."
As if he were lecturing like Deepak Chopra on spirituality.
I warned him the rule in America for ladies you just met
is, Hey you better not touch any parts you ain't got!
That turned him off, and Lord! was it hard to finally get an apology.
I felt I must've asked for that kind of trouble
from biting into the bad apple that I didn't even pick
but fell rotten to the ground from the Double Tree.

________________________

Thanks, Michelle—I love Michelle's takes on the Sacramento singles scene. Yikes!


This weekend:

•••Sat. (12/9), 7 PM: Poems-For-All’s Second Saturday Series features Other Voices: Thoughts from Sacramento's Left Bank; Poets read from the new limited edition set of handmade books from the Inclusionists. Poetry by the late Gene Black, as well as David Wiley, Leah Levine, Rachel Savage, Laura Llano, Be Davison-Herrera, Carol Gilbert-Wagner and Maggie Bowen Brown. That’s at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Info: richard@poems-for-all.com or 916-442-9295

•••Sat. (12/9), 8 PM: The ILL List III: A Poetry Slam Invitational at the State Theatre, 1307 J St., Modesto. This event will feature 10 nationally-renowned spoken word artists, many of whom have previously appeared on HBO's Def Poetry Jam. Through three rounds of original poetry, poets will match metaphors and battle rhyme for rhyme on their quest for $1000 in cash prizes! Randomly-selected judges from the audience, using Olympic-style scorecards, will award points to poets based on the strength of their poems and the quality of their performance. Audience members are strongly encouraged to root for their favorite poems, as cuts will be made after every round. Cheering, yelling, booing, hissing, whistling, and good-natured heckling are welcome and expected. Admission to this world-class literary boxing match is $15 for general admission, $12 students or $50 for front row, reserved seating, $30 second row, reserved seating. Tickets can be purchased online at www.thestate.org or at Salon Deville and Day Spa, 226 McHenry Avenue, Modesto (Cash-only location). Info: www.slamonrye.com or contact the State Theatre at (209) 527-4697.

•••Sat. (12/9), 3-5 PM: Patricity's In Spirit & Truth Series: featured readers plus open mic. 61 Yuence Smoked BBQ & Grill, 9657 Folsom Blvd., Sac. (off Bradshaw). Free. Info: 916-361-2014.

•••Sunday (12/10), 6 PM: Manzanita poetry and prose reading held at the Barnes & Noble in Weberstown Mall, Stockton (Pacific Ave. and March Lane). Hosted by Poets Corner and Barnes & Noble, this event will feature readers who have poems published in the literary journal, Manzanita (#5). Open mic.

•••Also Sunday (12/10), 2:30-4:30 PM: Poets on the Ridge Open Mic at Juice & Java, 7067 Skyway, Paradise. Info: 530-872-9633. This event meets on the second Sunday of every month.

•••Monday (12/11), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Mendocino County Poets Teresa Whitehall, Linda Noel, and Devreaux Baker. HQ for the Arts, 25th & R Sts., Sac. Info: 916-979-9706.


How is it I want you once again
now that I can't have you anymore?
Your place was a mess
as you threw your stuff on the floor
and I found out that in bed
you were like when I asked you to dance
as you'd prefer to roll over and loudly snore
I had to remind you I wasn't your mother
but you said I had to take you as you were
It made me finally decide to walk out the door
but you changed that all for another
as if somehow she is better?
But I know I need to get over it
or I will live forever in this pain

—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento

_______________________

Thanks for this one, too, Michelle, and for helping us continue this week's rather cynical ruminations about love.

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

Becoming a Stone

IF I BECAME A STONE
—So Chong-Ju

If I became
a stone

stone would become
lotus

lotus,
lake

and if I became
a lake

lake would become
lotus

lotus,
stone.

_______________________

Tonight:

•••Thursday (12/7), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe (1414 16th St., Sac) presents !X—The Ethnic Theater Ensemble. Open mic before and after. Info: 441-3931 or www.lunascafe.com. Free.

•••Thursday (12/7), 8-11 PM: Vibe Sessions at Cobbler Inn, 3520 Stockton Blvd. (next to Colonial Theater), Sac. $5, hosted by Flo-Real. Open Mic for comedians, singers, poets.


Pleasanton Poetry Festival next March:

The sixth annual Pleasanton Poetry, Prose and Arts Festival will be held on Saturday, March 31, 2007 at the CarrAmerica Conference Center, 4400 Rosewood Drive in Pleasanton. This all-day Festival will include poetry and prose workshops for all ages, poetry and prose contests for festival participants (with over $1,200 in prizes), a fine arts show, book signings, “Literary Row,” music, and an Awards Banquet. There will also be presentations by California Poet Laureate Al Young and Pulitzer-Prize winning novelist and screenwriter Michael Chabon.

Morning workshops include:

* The Lyrical Poem (Adult Poetry) presented by Gail & Charles Entrekin;
* Monster Poems: Addressing the Shadow (Adult Poetry) presented by Armand Brint;
* Making It Beautiful, No Matter What (Adult Poetry) presented by Susan Browne;
* The Mask Speaks (Youth Poetry) presented by Grace Marie Grafton;
* The Memory Thief (Adult and Teen Prose) presented by Lewis Buzbee.

Afternoon workshops include:

* The Sensory Experience (Adult Poetry) presented by Gail & Charles Entrekin;
* An Animal Wearing My Clothes (Adult Poetry) presented by Armand Brint;
* Making It Beautiful, No Matter What (Adult Poetry) presented by Susan Browne;
* Writing & Illustrating Children’s Books (Adult and Teen Prose) presented by Elisa Kleven;
* Whose House is This? (Adult and Teen Prose) presented by Lewis Buzbee.

Poetry and prose contest entries by all age groups must be submitted with early registration (must register to enter contests). Registration information and contest entry instructions will be available after December 16, 2006 at the PCAC website, www.pleasantonarts.org, by contacting Michelle Russo at City of Pleasanton Civic Arts, (925) 931-5350, or contacting Kirk Ridgeway at PleasantonPoetry@comcast.net.

______________________

A SNEEZE
—So Chong-Ju

Somewhere
is someone
saying my words?

I stepped out
into the blue autumn day's
winds that touched the ricepaper door.
I sniffed at the weather,
and sneezed.

Somewhere
is someone
saying my words?

Somewhere
as someone says my words,
has a flower overheard and passed them along?

Traces that stir
the waves of an old love.

Is someone
somewhere
saying my words?

As someone says them
has an ox overheard?
Does he pass them along?

(Translated from the Korean by David R. McKann)
______________________

David Humphreys was unhappy with his version of his poem which we posted last week, so he has made some changes and is asking Medusa to re-post. I guess Pearl Harbor Day is a good day to do that:

WAR CRIMES
—David Humphreys, Stockton

Thought it was cold last week but
that was nothing. It's going to be
in the twenties tonight. You remember
walking between buildings only about
a hundred yards at thirty below zero,
having your uncovered head go numb,
knowing you would've frozen solid if
you'd been caught out in it under that
star sparkling huge Colorado sky. You
wonder about the space station and if
temperature is like sound out there
without gravity but you don't really
formulate it into a question. It is like
the prism in the kitchen window, amusing
but remote. The man was testy again at
this morning's press conference. You
imagine him being helped away from
the scene of a roadside bombing, shaken
and smudged with blood and dirt, hair
wild and askew, shouting "But I don't
understand, they just don't seem to get it!"
Watched a show last night on Japan
building the Bridge on the River Kwai,
how they killed so many people, mostly
Asians and POWs, close to two hundred
thousand by the time they finished, regrettable
said the Japanese railway engineer who was
found to be blameless, but that's what seems
to happen in a time of war.

_____________________

Thanks, David!

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)

More About Love

ON THE STAIRS
—C.P. Cavafy

As I was going down the infamous stairway,
you were coming through the door, and for a moment
I saw your unfamiliar face and you saw me.
Then I hid so you would not see me again, and you
passed by quickly hiding your face,
and you dove into the infamous house
where you couldn't have found pleasure, as I didn't find it.

And yet, the love you wanted, I had it to give you;
the love I wanted—your eyes told it to me
your tired and distrustful eyes—you had it to give me.
Our bodies sensed and sought each other;
our blood and our skin understood.

But the two of us hid disturbed.

_______________________

AT THE THEATER
—C.P. Cavafy

I was bored looking at the stage,
and I lifted my eyes to the loges
and I saw you in a loge
with your strange beauty, your dissolute youth.
And at once there came back to my mind
all they had told me about you in the afternoon,
and my mind and body were moved.
And while fascinated I gazed
at your tired beauty, your tired youth,
your tastefully selected clothes,
I imagined you and depicted you,
the way they spoke to me of you that afternoon.

_______________________

News from Poet's Lane:

Cynthia Bryant, Pleasanton Poet Laureate, writes: Poet’s Lane needs your poems for December! Anyone, any age, anywhere may submit poetry to PoetsLane@comcast.net to be posted on www.poetslane.com. The four themes are: Pagans, Zealots, Dark Times and Gifts. If you don’t have a poem with those themes and just need to get something off your chest with a poem, send that as well, but state that it is for the Get if Off Your Chest page at www.poetslane.com. And check out Poet’s Lane (www.poetslane.com) Radio Show page and listen to the new interview with Calgarian poet with Iraqi ancestry, Zaid Shlah.

Pleasanton will host its sixth annual Prose, Arts and Poetry Festival again this year, this time on March 31. More about that later.


Tonight:

•••Weds. (12/6), 10 PM-midnight: Mics and Moods at Capitol Garage, 1500 K St., Sac. Features and open mic, hosted by Khiry Malik. 21 years of age and older; $5 cover. Info: 916-492-9336 or www.malikspeaks.com.

•••Weds. (12/6), 7 PM: I Began To Speak, a movie of the history of poetry in the City of Sacramento c. 1960 to 2006, features some 41 area poets who tell the story of the evolution of a single poetry community in their own voices. Produced, written and directed by Sacramento's B.L. Kennedy, with Linda Thorell as Director of Photography, Editing and Design, and funded in part by an ArtScapes Grant from the Sacramento Metropolitan Arts Commission, this unique film will premier at the legendary Crest Theatre in the heart of downtown Sacramento. Advance tickets now on sale at the Crest, 1013 K St., Sac., 916-442-5189 or sid@thecrest.com. Tickets are $10, and can also be purchased via ticket agencies like www.tickets.com—though you save on fees if you buy them directly from the Crest.

_______________________

JANUARY 1904
—C.P. Cavafy

Ah, the nights of this January,
when I sit and recreate those moments
in my mind and I meet you,
and I hear our last words and I also hear the first.

Despairing nights of this January,
when the vision vanishes and leaves me bereft.
How it vanishes and quickly dissolves—
gone are the trees, gone the streets, gone the houses, gone the lights;
your amorous face fades and is lost.

________________________

BOUQUETS
—C.P. Cavafy

Absinthe, datura and bean plant,
aconite, hellebore anhd hemlock—
all the bitters and the poisons—
will donate their leaves and horrible flowers
to make up the large bouquets
that will be placed upon the bright altar—
ah, the splendid altar of Malachite stone—
of the horrible and very lovely Passion.

_______________________

FROM THE DRAWER
—C.P. Cavafy

I was planning to place it on a wall in my room

But the dampness of the drawer damaged it.

I will not frame this photograph.

I should have guarded it more carefully.

Those lips, that face—
ah, if only their past would return
for one day, for one hour.

I will not frame this photograph.

I will endure looking at it damaged as it is.

On the other hand, even if it were not damaged
it would annoy me to be careful lest some word,
some accent in the voice betray—
should anyone ever ask me about it.

(Today's poetry was translated from the Greek by Rae Dalven.)

_______________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry, photos and art, and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)