The blog roads are "bad" today, apparently, and this is late because of some kind of blogspot glitch. For those of you who managed to get here, let's just chew this over, wait for the dust to clear:
ALL THE FRUIT
—Friedrich Holderlin
All the fruit is ripe, plunged in fire, cooked,
And they have passed their test on earth, and one law is this:
That everything curls inward, like snakes,
Prophetic, dreaming on
The hills of heaven. And many things
Have to stay on the shoulders like a load
of failure. However the roads
Are bad. For the chained elements,
Like horses, are going off to the side,
And the old
Laws of the earth. And a longing
For disintegration constantly comes. Many things however
Have to stay on the shoulders. Steadiness is essential.
Forwards, however, or backwards we will
Not look. Let us learn to live swaying
As in a rocking boat on the sea.
_______________________
—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.)
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Friday, January 05, 2007
And Snow It Goes...
THE SUCHNESS OF THINGS
—Patricia A. Pashby, Sacramento
The New Year
chugs into the station—
a freight train hauling
seventy-five boxcars
stuffed with a lifetime
of incidents.
It will stop awhile,
then slowly move on
down the line,
adding a car, or two,
ending the journey
on a siding
where weeds grow
between the tracks . . .
_______________________
Thanks, Pat! Look for Pat's littlesnake broadside, Potpourri, at The Book Collector (free), or send me an SASE at POBox 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one.
Other Nor-Cal poets are also checking in today, tying up loose ends about moving, snow, the holidays:
HOLIDAY SHADOWS
—Dewell H. Byrd, Eureka
Shadows need sunshine to survive,
rumors need shadows.
Guests gather
for the holiday feast
gift laden
food
drink.
Greetings vary
fawning
cool.
Rumors skirt
between hugs,
last year's
hurts.
Momma soothes like warm chocolate.
Papa kicks up dust 'round the tax base.
Kids romp, hide,
sense uneasiness.
Food mixes with alcohol,
football, competition.
Old hurts
patina relationships,
jealousies.
Hot breath of guilt
slathered.
"Why don't you visit more often?"
"We get lonely, you know."
Rumors create shadows,
shadows on shadows,
sunshine or no.
_______________________
SPACE COWBOY
—David Humphreys, Stockton
Skiing started to change the Rockies back then
from chaps, spurs and shiny leather
to snowflake sweaters, liederhausen and rioja bota bags
squeezed out with too much sun, white zinc
glacier goggle lens black against the glare.
Pommel horns standing up like Spain
still as stubborn as a branding calf's lariat
looped around the moon eagle's lunar landing,
boot heels, stirrups and a wide brimmed hat's bandanna
wrapped around the start of another day.
His levis faded from wearing like work that wasn't,
boots cut plain with mother of pearl snaps
while his dad built ski lifts into the golden aspens
with elk river bugling mule deer antler racks
and a by-god thirty-thirty point of view,
acid his catalytic cultural fusion
thermonuclear bikini atoll, two-part epoxy
though he lost his spleen
when he hit a tree in the out of bounds powder
one lonely wasted day.
A better skier than anything else he did,
turns carved smoother than bow strung whispers
in love with an Indian princess
and a lightly strummed guitar.
But the work he did with a rope
was like tethering a space walk crystal clear
above the oceans, clouds and drifting continents
mirrored in his helmet's visor.
________________________
Thanks, David and Dewell!
—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.)
—Patricia A. Pashby, Sacramento
The New Year
chugs into the station—
a freight train hauling
seventy-five boxcars
stuffed with a lifetime
of incidents.
It will stop awhile,
then slowly move on
down the line,
adding a car, or two,
ending the journey
on a siding
where weeds grow
between the tracks . . .
_______________________
Thanks, Pat! Look for Pat's littlesnake broadside, Potpourri, at The Book Collector (free), or send me an SASE at POBox 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one.
Other Nor-Cal poets are also checking in today, tying up loose ends about moving, snow, the holidays:
HOLIDAY SHADOWS
—Dewell H. Byrd, Eureka
Shadows need sunshine to survive,
rumors need shadows.
Guests gather
for the holiday feast
gift laden
food
drink.
Greetings vary
fawning
cool.
Rumors skirt
between hugs,
last year's
hurts.
Momma soothes like warm chocolate.
Papa kicks up dust 'round the tax base.
Kids romp, hide,
sense uneasiness.
Food mixes with alcohol,
football, competition.
Old hurts
patina relationships,
jealousies.
Hot breath of guilt
slathered.
"Why don't you visit more often?"
"We get lonely, you know."
Rumors create shadows,
shadows on shadows,
sunshine or no.
_______________________
SPACE COWBOY
—David Humphreys, Stockton
Skiing started to change the Rockies back then
from chaps, spurs and shiny leather
to snowflake sweaters, liederhausen and rioja bota bags
squeezed out with too much sun, white zinc
glacier goggle lens black against the glare.
Pommel horns standing up like Spain
still as stubborn as a branding calf's lariat
looped around the moon eagle's lunar landing,
boot heels, stirrups and a wide brimmed hat's bandanna
wrapped around the start of another day.
His levis faded from wearing like work that wasn't,
boots cut plain with mother of pearl snaps
while his dad built ski lifts into the golden aspens
with elk river bugling mule deer antler racks
and a by-god thirty-thirty point of view,
acid his catalytic cultural fusion
thermonuclear bikini atoll, two-part epoxy
though he lost his spleen
when he hit a tree in the out of bounds powder
one lonely wasted day.
A better skier than anything else he did,
turns carved smoother than bow strung whispers
in love with an Indian princess
and a lightly strummed guitar.
But the work he did with a rope
was like tethering a space walk crystal clear
above the oceans, clouds and drifting continents
mirrored in his helmet's visor.
________________________
Thanks, David and Dewell!
—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.)
Thursday, January 04, 2007
A Mind of Winter
THE SNOW MAN
—Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
_______________________
PCP Chapbook Contest:
Poet's Corner Press announces its annual Chapbook Poetry Contest! Camille Norton, winner of the National Poetry Series Contest, will judge. Deadline for submission is March 1, 2007. The First Place Award of $500 will be announced June 1, 2007. Send your manuscript of 24 text pages of poetry with $20 reading fee, check or money order made out to:
Poet's Corner Press
8049 Thornton Rd.
Stockton, CA 95209
Further info: http://www.poetscornerpress.com/Competition.html#poet
Pleasanton Poetry Fest:
The 6th 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. This year’s event will include presentations by Al Young, California Poet Laureate and Michael Chabon, Pulitzer-Prize winning novelist and screenwriter. 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 are now available 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.
_______________________
WINTER SCENE
—Marguerite Young
So earth's inclined toward the one invisible,
The prince of space, and yet he was disproved,
But this is her nuptial night, a cruel season
As limbless lizards coil together in love
And her whiteness veils over the dog-faced owl,
Whitness veils over the frozen streams, the moon,
And the deer islanded without family,
Nuzzling cold tulips. Whiteness veils over the sea,
And the heart of the snail is beating slow.
But as an early bride, with heaven's rose
She is adorned, she is wound in seven veils
Even as a bride going forth to the bridegroom,
And her whiteness veils over the scarred fields.
She is celebrant for the failure of a theory,
And the white ptarmigan treads in the snow among the low hills.
________________________
—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.)
—Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
_______________________
PCP Chapbook Contest:
Poet's Corner Press announces its annual Chapbook Poetry Contest! Camille Norton, winner of the National Poetry Series Contest, will judge. Deadline for submission is March 1, 2007. The First Place Award of $500 will be announced June 1, 2007. Send your manuscript of 24 text pages of poetry with $20 reading fee, check or money order made out to:
Poet's Corner Press
8049 Thornton Rd.
Stockton, CA 95209
Further info: http://www.poetscornerpress.com/Competition.html#poet
Pleasanton Poetry Fest:
The 6th 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. This year’s event will include presentations by Al Young, California Poet Laureate and Michael Chabon, Pulitzer-Prize winning novelist and screenwriter. 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 are now available 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.
_______________________
WINTER SCENE
—Marguerite Young
So earth's inclined toward the one invisible,
The prince of space, and yet he was disproved,
But this is her nuptial night, a cruel season
As limbless lizards coil together in love
And her whiteness veils over the dog-faced owl,
Whitness veils over the frozen streams, the moon,
And the deer islanded without family,
Nuzzling cold tulips. Whiteness veils over the sea,
And the heart of the snail is beating slow.
But as an early bride, with heaven's rose
She is adorned, she is wound in seven veils
Even as a bride going forth to the bridegroom,
And her whiteness veils over the scarred fields.
She is celebrant for the failure of a theory,
And the white ptarmigan treads in the snow among the low hills.
________________________
—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.)
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Anatomy of January
ANATOMY OF JANUARY
—Miroslav Holub
On the carpal bones
metacarpal bones with vanishing cartilege,
the ulnar
like a ruler for parakeets.
A string is attached to the joint,
a string that goes over the horizon,
southwest.
Rooks are falling from the sky,
under oath.
(translated from the Czech by David Young and Miroslav Holub)
_______________________
January Boot Camp:
Molly Fisk of Nevada City writes: January's Boot Camp begins on Sunday 1/21 and
runs through Friday 1/26. Remember, you can join the regular camp and write new poems, or you can join me to work on revisions by yourself (same format, same price). This is a great time of year to look at older poems and see what they might need to be presentable. If you don't know about Poetry Boot Camp, here's where you can find out: http://www.poetrybootcamp.com. It's a six-day workshop conducted via e-mail—enormously productive, and tons of fun.
_______________________
LIVING OUT OF BOXES
—Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos
I look at my list:
milk
bread
prunes
companion
at least a new book
library closed
nothing on TV
refrigerator drones
solitaire's good
no cards
put cards on list
_______________________
Thanks, Steph!
Time for a little Russell Edson, just to put some balance into things:
THE TURKEY HAPPENING
—Russell Edson
There were feathers growing on his wall. Thickly. And with pink turkey flesh beneath.
The feathers were spreading across the ceiling. And the floor was beginning to protrude in scaly bird toes like the roots of trees.
He could not tell if he had not now become himself feathers and turkey flesh.
He wondered if he was not now feathers and turkey flesh.
_______________________
A JOURNEY THROUGH THE MOONLIGHT
—Russell Edson
In sleep when an old man's body is no longer aware of its boundaries and lies flattened by gravity like a mere of wax in its bed . . . It drips down to the floor and moves there like a tear down a cheek . . . Under the back door into the silver meadow, like a pool of sperm, frosty under the moon, as if in his first nature, boneless and absurd.
The moon lifts him up into its white field, a cloud shaped like an old man, porous with stars.
He floats through high dark branches, a corpse tangled in a tree on a river.
________________________
—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.)
—Miroslav Holub
On the carpal bones
metacarpal bones with vanishing cartilege,
the ulnar
like a ruler for parakeets.
A string is attached to the joint,
a string that goes over the horizon,
southwest.
Rooks are falling from the sky,
under oath.
(translated from the Czech by David Young and Miroslav Holub)
_______________________
January Boot Camp:
Molly Fisk of Nevada City writes: January's Boot Camp begins on Sunday 1/21 and
runs through Friday 1/26. Remember, you can join the regular camp and write new poems, or you can join me to work on revisions by yourself (same format, same price). This is a great time of year to look at older poems and see what they might need to be presentable. If you don't know about Poetry Boot Camp, here's where you can find out: http://www.poetrybootcamp.com. It's a six-day workshop conducted via e-mail—enormously productive, and tons of fun.
_______________________
LIVING OUT OF BOXES
—Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos
I look at my list:
milk
bread
prunes
companion
at least a new book
library closed
nothing on TV
refrigerator drones
solitaire's good
no cards
put cards on list
_______________________
Thanks, Steph!
Time for a little Russell Edson, just to put some balance into things:
THE TURKEY HAPPENING
—Russell Edson
There were feathers growing on his wall. Thickly. And with pink turkey flesh beneath.
The feathers were spreading across the ceiling. And the floor was beginning to protrude in scaly bird toes like the roots of trees.
He could not tell if he had not now become himself feathers and turkey flesh.
He wondered if he was not now feathers and turkey flesh.
_______________________
A JOURNEY THROUGH THE MOONLIGHT
—Russell Edson
In sleep when an old man's body is no longer aware of its boundaries and lies flattened by gravity like a mere of wax in its bed . . . It drips down to the floor and moves there like a tear down a cheek . . . Under the back door into the silver meadow, like a pool of sperm, frosty under the moon, as if in his first nature, boneless and absurd.
The moon lifts him up into its white field, a cloud shaped like an old man, porous with stars.
He floats through high dark branches, a corpse tangled in a tree on a river.
________________________
—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.)
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Still Without An Answer
BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch, CA
Her body followed the moon
for a lifetime. Waxing
and waning and
bloating with fullness.
And the breathing in
and the breathing out alone,
passed her through time, until
she stood in the deep darkness
of the new moon.
A silent calling pulled
her to a place where
listening is loud, sanity
is on edges, and change
comes in tides of emotions.
But the She that rises
on a silver sliver
blinks in the night sky
with sharpened vision.
And the breathing in and listening
and the breathing out and laughing
dances her to the full moon
and the energy of elders.
________________________
Thanks, Mediha! A new voice heard from in Nor-Cal! And a new locale.
Medusa Returns!
After a holiday/moving house hiatus, we're back. The rest of Snake 12 will go out this week, and we're gearing up for the release of Pearl Stein Selinsky's new chapbook, Vic & Me, which will be premiered at a reading on Weds., Jan. 10 at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento. Medusa is always hungry; send your poems in for posting to kathykieth@hotmail.com, or to our new p.o. box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. We're still not very organized in our new digs, but the poetry community is waking up, and so it's time for us to, also.
This week, the poetry beast begins to stir again:
•••Don Anderson of Stockton writes: We are looking for material to fill the pages of our latest publishing project, Sun Shadow Mountain, a 6”x 9” perfect-bound paperback of approx. 169 pages which will be made available for sale online at www.lulu.com. We are now accepting as many submissions as possible; all submissions are reviewed and selected upon relevance to the theme. The closing date for submissions is Thursday, January 4th, 2007; those received earliest are most likely to get a higher priority for available space, except where aesthetics dictate. Submissions requirements are very specific, so for further info, contact Donald Anderson at P.O. Box 121, Farmington, CA 95230 (too_live_forever@yahoo.com), (209) 943-2449; or Nikki Quismondo (pisces03142001@yahoo.com), (209) 474-7099.
•••Sal Amico M. Buttaci of Lodi, New Jersey, writes: Winter is here and I am looking for some good poems to post at The Poem Factory http://www.freewebs.com/sambpoet/ Why not send me up to five of your poems? Keep them under 24 lines long. And include a very brief bio of yourself. Send it all to me at sambpoet@yahoo.com.
•••Thurs., 1/4, 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. presents Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. Open mic before/after. Info: 916-441-3931 or www.lunascafe.com. Free.
•••Sat., 1/6, 11 AM: All are invited to the monthly Escritores del Nuevo Sol / Writers of the New Sun writing workshop/potluck at La Raza Galeria Posada, 1024 22nd Street, Sacramento. Info: call Graciela at 916-456-5323.
•••Sat., 1/6, 7 PM: First Saturday Poetry Series at Sojourner Truth Art Center, 2251 Florin Rd., Sac. Hosted by Noah Hayes and Felicia McGee. All ages. $5. Come early for workshop. Info: www.malikspeaks.com
•••Sunday, 1/7, 6 PM: All are welcome when the PoemSpirits of the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento assemble on Sunday, January 7th at 6:00 PM. The invited feature reader is Geoffrey Stockdale, a full-time professor of Speech at American River College, and a much-published Sacramento poet. Co-host JoAnn Anglin will offer a brief presentation on the work of poet-activist Denise Levertov. Attendees are also invited to bring a poem to read—your own, or one that you particularly like. Free and open to the public; open mic, light refreshments. A fine way to start the new year. We meet in the library/foyer of the UUSS, 2425 Sierra Blvd., Sacramento, between Howe & Fulton Avenues, 2 blocks north of Fair Oaks Blvd. Contact: Tom Goff or Nora Staklis at 916-481-3312, or JoAnn Anglin at 451-1372. This is a first Sunday of the month event, which emphasizes the spiritual benefits of reading and listening to poetry. A featured guest speaker is always invited, and a short presentation given upon the work of a distinguished poet, past or present, along with open mic. Future readers: February 4 – Jan Haag; March 4 – Kathy Kieth.
•••Monday, 1/8: Attend the Sacramento Poetry Center Board of Directors meeting at 5:45 PM, then stay for Best of 2006: An Open Mic Opportunity at 7 PM at HQ, 1719 25th St., Sac. Bring your best two pieces from last year and read them out loud (note the special starting time). Hosted by Indigo Moor.
_______________________
BLENDED FAMILY
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch
Because small voices
wet as winter branches
cut. Because sometimes, I dance
up the walnut tree
to touch the moon,
I ache more
from the green-walnut bitter
shouted into my wounds
by those who did not suckle
from my dreams. I cannot change
their abandonment
by a mother
lost in misty worlds
of euphoria,
nor can I change
the child
who reaches for stars,
helps me embrace the moon,
and rubs balm into my cuts.
_______________________
JUST IS
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch
While floating on my back
in the Trinity River,
the water a tolerable cold,
I watch alder leaves
drop — one here, one there.
Not because it is Fall,
but just because it is
their time.
Like soldiers in Iraq.
Like children in Beirut.
Like mothers in Jerusalem.
No amount of weeping
changes things. Heads
are too stubbornly locked
in old perceptions.
If only life was as clear
as an unspoiled river
and that alder leaves
knew why they dropped.
I plant my feet on smooth, round stone,
stop myself from following alder leaves.
I swim against the current,
going nowhere,
but enjoy, enjoy the cool water,
the blue sky, the birds singing
in the trees, until
I know one day I will float
downstream, still
without an answer.
_______________________
—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.)
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch, CA
Her body followed the moon
for a lifetime. Waxing
and waning and
bloating with fullness.
And the breathing in
and the breathing out alone,
passed her through time, until
she stood in the deep darkness
of the new moon.
A silent calling pulled
her to a place where
listening is loud, sanity
is on edges, and change
comes in tides of emotions.
But the She that rises
on a silver sliver
blinks in the night sky
with sharpened vision.
And the breathing in and listening
and the breathing out and laughing
dances her to the full moon
and the energy of elders.
________________________
Thanks, Mediha! A new voice heard from in Nor-Cal! And a new locale.
Medusa Returns!
After a holiday/moving house hiatus, we're back. The rest of Snake 12 will go out this week, and we're gearing up for the release of Pearl Stein Selinsky's new chapbook, Vic & Me, which will be premiered at a reading on Weds., Jan. 10 at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento. Medusa is always hungry; send your poems in for posting to kathykieth@hotmail.com, or to our new p.o. box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726. We're still not very organized in our new digs, but the poetry community is waking up, and so it's time for us to, also.
This week, the poetry beast begins to stir again:
•••Don Anderson of Stockton writes: We are looking for material to fill the pages of our latest publishing project, Sun Shadow Mountain, a 6”x 9” perfect-bound paperback of approx. 169 pages which will be made available for sale online at www.lulu.com. We are now accepting as many submissions as possible; all submissions are reviewed and selected upon relevance to the theme. The closing date for submissions is Thursday, January 4th, 2007; those received earliest are most likely to get a higher priority for available space, except where aesthetics dictate. Submissions requirements are very specific, so for further info, contact Donald Anderson at P.O. Box 121, Farmington, CA 95230 (too_live_forever@yahoo.com), (209) 943-2449; or Nikki Quismondo (pisces03142001@yahoo.com), (209) 474-7099.
•••Sal Amico M. Buttaci of Lodi, New Jersey, writes: Winter is here and I am looking for some good poems to post at The Poem Factory http://www.freewebs.com/sambpoet/ Why not send me up to five of your poems? Keep them under 24 lines long. And include a very brief bio of yourself. Send it all to me at sambpoet@yahoo.com.
•••Thurs., 1/4, 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. presents Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor. Open mic before/after. Info: 916-441-3931 or www.lunascafe.com. Free.
•••Sat., 1/6, 11 AM: All are invited to the monthly Escritores del Nuevo Sol / Writers of the New Sun writing workshop/potluck at La Raza Galeria Posada, 1024 22nd Street, Sacramento. Info: call Graciela at 916-456-5323.
•••Sat., 1/6, 7 PM: First Saturday Poetry Series at Sojourner Truth Art Center, 2251 Florin Rd., Sac. Hosted by Noah Hayes and Felicia McGee. All ages. $5. Come early for workshop. Info: www.malikspeaks.com
•••Sunday, 1/7, 6 PM: All are welcome when the PoemSpirits of the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento assemble on Sunday, January 7th at 6:00 PM. The invited feature reader is Geoffrey Stockdale, a full-time professor of Speech at American River College, and a much-published Sacramento poet. Co-host JoAnn Anglin will offer a brief presentation on the work of poet-activist Denise Levertov. Attendees are also invited to bring a poem to read—your own, or one that you particularly like. Free and open to the public; open mic, light refreshments. A fine way to start the new year. We meet in the library/foyer of the UUSS, 2425 Sierra Blvd., Sacramento, between Howe & Fulton Avenues, 2 blocks north of Fair Oaks Blvd. Contact: Tom Goff or Nora Staklis at 916-481-3312, or JoAnn Anglin at 451-1372. This is a first Sunday of the month event, which emphasizes the spiritual benefits of reading and listening to poetry. A featured guest speaker is always invited, and a short presentation given upon the work of a distinguished poet, past or present, along with open mic. Future readers: February 4 – Jan Haag; March 4 – Kathy Kieth.
•••Monday, 1/8: Attend the Sacramento Poetry Center Board of Directors meeting at 5:45 PM, then stay for Best of 2006: An Open Mic Opportunity at 7 PM at HQ, 1719 25th St., Sac. Bring your best two pieces from last year and read them out loud (note the special starting time). Hosted by Indigo Moor.
_______________________
BLENDED FAMILY
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch
Because small voices
wet as winter branches
cut. Because sometimes, I dance
up the walnut tree
to touch the moon,
I ache more
from the green-walnut bitter
shouted into my wounds
by those who did not suckle
from my dreams. I cannot change
their abandonment
by a mother
lost in misty worlds
of euphoria,
nor can I change
the child
who reaches for stars,
helps me embrace the moon,
and rubs balm into my cuts.
_______________________
JUST IS
—Mediha Saliba, Burnt Ranch
While floating on my back
in the Trinity River,
the water a tolerable cold,
I watch alder leaves
drop — one here, one there.
Not because it is Fall,
but just because it is
their time.
Like soldiers in Iraq.
Like children in Beirut.
Like mothers in Jerusalem.
No amount of weeping
changes things. Heads
are too stubbornly locked
in old perceptions.
If only life was as clear
as an unspoiled river
and that alder leaves
knew why they dropped.
I plant my feet on smooth, round stone,
stop myself from following alder leaves.
I swim against the current,
going nowhere,
but enjoy, enjoy the cool water,
the blue sky, the birds singing
in the trees, until
I know one day I will float
downstream, still
without an answer.
_______________________
—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.)
Friday, December 29, 2006
That Which Is Still In Transit (Then Again, Aren't We All?)
ON LOSING MY SHOWERCAP
(Moving House, Christmas, 2006)
—Kathy Kieth, Pollock Pines
It’s cold up here: freezing, in fact:
falling snow: I feel stuffy, so
no wet head allowed: hair dryer’s lost
[we went through that yesterday], so
where is the showercap: I think
it’s in that green box under two
or three others [put away this ‘n that,
feed the cat, take out the garbage]:
back to that green box again: where
is my showercap? Damn this sealing
tape, go hunt for the scissors [turn up
the heat, shut the curtains, find something
for Sam]: where are those scissors [trip
over boxes that weren’t there five minutes
ago]: order a pizza and hunt for ten
minutes for the tissues [still stuffy]: where
is my purse to pay the pizza guy; it was
right here! And no, the showercap
wasn’t in the green box…
_______________________
Need I say more? The new Rattlesnake Reviews are still in Transit Limbo (and no, they're not in the green box); I'll get my act together soon, really I will.
Meanwhile, enjoy your holidays! A couple of events this weekend:
•••Saturday, Dec. 30, 7-9 PM: The Show Poetry Series features Rodzilla, Red Fox Underground Poet and soon-to-be rattlechapper Brigit Truex, Brittney Robinson, and Luke Breit. Wo'se Community Center, 2863 35th St., Sac. $5. 916-208-7638.
•••Sunday, Dec. 31, 4-7 PM: Community Kwanzaa includes music, dancing, and spoken-word performances, plus children's crafts, with a potluck to follow the program. Center for Spiritual Awareness, 1020 W. Capitol Ave., West Sac. Free. 916-374-9177.
•••Remember: No Sacramento Poetry Center Reading on New Year's Day. Instead, head over to Davis. The Other Voice Reading Series, hosted by James Lee Jobe at the Unitarian Church, is always on the first Monday of the month, usually with featured readers followed by an open reading. But when that Monday happens to be a holiday, it is all open mic. For Monday, January 1st, it is an anti-war open reading. Bring those political poems, your own or ones you've come across in your reading, and come on out to Davis. This is New Year's NIGHT, not New Year's Eve, so your parties will all be over; come make a statement. For details, directions, and even a map, please check out http://uupoetry.blogspot.com. [And see below for a poem by JLee.]
_______________________
Alas, Medusa isn't officially back yet, though; I shall return to regular posts after New Year's, at which point we'll start advertising the release of the next rattlechap, Vic 'n Me, by Pearl Stein Selinksy (reading/release party Jan. 10). Meanwhile, the kind and merciful JLJobe has leapt into the breach with a fine Yule poem which yule enjoy, I'm sure:
YULE 2006
—James Lee Jobe, Davis
Yule. A quarter moon southwesters in early evening.
From the darkness above, the lonely sounds of geese.
An uneasiness, an uncertainty lies across the earth.
An old cat with no tail watches the empty street.
Valley oaks, long nude of leaves, whisper in a chill wind.
Commanding clouds slide in, covering the moon; thick, strong.
In some other world, it's war. Iraq. Somalia. Afghanistan.
Soldiers die, civilians die—hard politics. Hatred.
Not here. Here, in bottomland, wild herons hunt. Free.
People go to the market and buy tomatoes, oranges.
No one believes that this evil will happen to their children.
And no one speaks out against the evil that they cannot see.
_______________________
Thanks, James Lee! And Happy New Year to Jim and to everyone else!!
—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.)
(Moving House, Christmas, 2006)
—Kathy Kieth, Pollock Pines
It’s cold up here: freezing, in fact:
falling snow: I feel stuffy, so
no wet head allowed: hair dryer’s lost
[we went through that yesterday], so
where is the showercap: I think
it’s in that green box under two
or three others [put away this ‘n that,
feed the cat, take out the garbage]:
back to that green box again: where
is my showercap? Damn this sealing
tape, go hunt for the scissors [turn up
the heat, shut the curtains, find something
for Sam]: where are those scissors [trip
over boxes that weren’t there five minutes
ago]: order a pizza and hunt for ten
minutes for the tissues [still stuffy]: where
is my purse to pay the pizza guy; it was
right here! And no, the showercap
wasn’t in the green box…
_______________________
Need I say more? The new Rattlesnake Reviews are still in Transit Limbo (and no, they're not in the green box); I'll get my act together soon, really I will.
Meanwhile, enjoy your holidays! A couple of events this weekend:
•••Saturday, Dec. 30, 7-9 PM: The Show Poetry Series features Rodzilla, Red Fox Underground Poet and soon-to-be rattlechapper Brigit Truex, Brittney Robinson, and Luke Breit. Wo'se Community Center, 2863 35th St., Sac. $5. 916-208-7638.
•••Sunday, Dec. 31, 4-7 PM: Community Kwanzaa includes music, dancing, and spoken-word performances, plus children's crafts, with a potluck to follow the program. Center for Spiritual Awareness, 1020 W. Capitol Ave., West Sac. Free. 916-374-9177.
•••Remember: No Sacramento Poetry Center Reading on New Year's Day. Instead, head over to Davis. The Other Voice Reading Series, hosted by James Lee Jobe at the Unitarian Church, is always on the first Monday of the month, usually with featured readers followed by an open reading. But when that Monday happens to be a holiday, it is all open mic. For Monday, January 1st, it is an anti-war open reading. Bring those political poems, your own or ones you've come across in your reading, and come on out to Davis. This is New Year's NIGHT, not New Year's Eve, so your parties will all be over; come make a statement. For details, directions, and even a map, please check out http://uupoetry.blogspot.com. [And see below for a poem by JLee.]
_______________________
Alas, Medusa isn't officially back yet, though; I shall return to regular posts after New Year's, at which point we'll start advertising the release of the next rattlechap, Vic 'n Me, by Pearl Stein Selinksy (reading/release party Jan. 10). Meanwhile, the kind and merciful JLJobe has leapt into the breach with a fine Yule poem which yule enjoy, I'm sure:
YULE 2006
—James Lee Jobe, Davis
Yule. A quarter moon southwesters in early evening.
From the darkness above, the lonely sounds of geese.
An uneasiness, an uncertainty lies across the earth.
An old cat with no tail watches the empty street.
Valley oaks, long nude of leaves, whisper in a chill wind.
Commanding clouds slide in, covering the moon; thick, strong.
In some other world, it's war. Iraq. Somalia. Afghanistan.
Soldiers die, civilians die—hard politics. Hatred.
Not here. Here, in bottomland, wild herons hunt. Free.
People go to the market and buy tomatoes, oranges.
No one believes that this evil will happen to their children.
And no one speaks out against the evil that they cannot see.
_______________________
Thanks, James Lee! And Happy New Year to Jim and to everyone else!!
—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.)
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
We're Only Taking the Flammables...
photo by Katy Brown, Davis
MOVING DAY
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
We sorted through and left it without boxes—
forty-five years of invoices and bills,
three goldfish grown too big for their bowl.
We only took the flammables, a charcoal nude,
Stravinsky, Baudelaire, our own rough rhymes
which, in drought conditions, might spark.
What will the movers and the shakers make
of all these odds and ends of days? The soul
is long flown my mother’s cape of foxes.
A drawer-full of your dead father’s pills
we leave, expired like the rent on dark,
cold storage. For our acquisitive times,
no forwarding address. We’re in no mood
for this stuff we leave. What must we take?
_______________________
Thanks for the poem, TG—an unrhymed sonnet, by my reckoning.
You may've heard; the Snake is moving house, as the British say—or I guess moving nest, in this case. So the Kitchen will be cold; no cookin' from now through, well, probably Christmas, as we disconnect and reconnect and snowshoe up the hill and unbox and unbox and unbox... My biggest regret is that I didn't get the rest of the Rattlesnake Review 12's into the mail; I've decided to wait until next week, after the Christmas rush. I'm sorry for that.
Ex-Sacramento Poet Debbie Guerrette sent us a fitting poem, though, to leave posted until we get back to what we call normal around here:
THE SNAKE IS:
Not expecting any pardon
Not allowed at nativity
Not invited to the garden
but
God put him in the arc
made him a home in Kansas
where he left his mark
for
On every flag we see
sincerely he says,
“Don’t tread on me”
and
to honor this holiday we take
he sends rich dreams to you
Happy Christmas from that snake
—Debbie Guerrette
_______________________
Thanks, Debbie! My sentiments, exactly. Rich dreams to everybody, and a Happy Christmas.
—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.)
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