Snowshoes

Photo by Jane Blue, Sacramento

SITTING ON THE STEPS
OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM

(at the Sutton Hoo Exhibit)

I know what’s caught inside—too much
To hold in a single day, or three, or four.

I never go in right away.
I even have time for a nap in the sun.

I will not read every catalog card.
I will not stop in the cafe and gift shops.

I will only see the ship burial:
The beds, golden dishes and chairs,

Party artifacts—the table set,
Goblets and hair combs placed just so.

It’s most like a gravesite where one
Would go to see if family headstones

Have been disturbed, if plastic flowers
And metal cans lay strewn about.

But everything is the same, yet unearthed:
Reverent, humble, asking for a blessing.

—Jeanine Stevens, Sacramento

(This poem first appeared in Alehouse.)

_____________________

Thanks, Jeanine. For more information about the ancient, ancient Sutton Hoo, google up http://www.homestead.com/englishheathenism/shipburial.html/, or just type "in Sutton Hoo". As you can see, we're still talking about cemeteries.


Got books?

Many poets would say there's no such thing as too many books, but if you do have one or two that you need to part with, Richard Hansen has printed up a handy little card that lists two "homeless shelters" for used books you might need to give away:

•••Friends of the Sacramento Public Library runs The Book Den at 8250 Belvedere Av., Suite E (off Power Inn Road in Sacramento). They're open Weds. from 9-12 and Sat. from 9-2; call ahead (916-731-8493). No magazines, encyclopedias or texbooks.

•••The Sacramento SPCA, 6210 Florin-Perkins Rd., Sac. accepts books year-round during shelter hours, or call their Special Events office (916-383-7387, ext. 9102).

_____________________

REPORT FROM A FAR PLACE
—William Stafford

Making these word things to
step on across the world, I
could call them snowshoes.

They creak, sag, bend, but
hold, over the great deep cold,
and they turn up at the toes.

In war or city or camp
they could save your life;
you can muse them by the fire.

Be careful, though: they
burn, or don't burn, in their own
strange way, when you say them.

____________________

THE STICK IN THE FOREST
—William Stafford

A stick in the forest that pointed
where the center of the universe is
broke in the wind that started
its exact note of mourning
when Buddha's mother died.

Around us then a new crystal
began to form itself, and men—
awakened by what happened—
held precious whatever breathed:
we are all gestures that the world makes.

"Be, be," Buddha said.

______________________

ASSURANCE
—William Stafford

You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or the silence after lightning before it says
its names—and then the cloud's wide-mouthed
apologies. You were aimed from birth:
you will never be alone. Rain
will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
long aisles—you never heard so deep a sound,
moss on rock, and years. You turn your head—
that's what the silence meant: you're not alone.
The whole wide world pours down.

_____________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).

Innumerable Bees

Photo by Marie Riepenhoff-Talty
Longboat Key, FL

A WITNESS
—Marie Riepenhoff-Talty

I put his ashes in this grand ocean of a lake.
The tree witnessed.
The sun burned its fire on the end of his days,
but its blaze of beauty did little to heat
the cold hands that threw the ashes
or rekindle the burnt-out embers of
our life together.


_____________________

Thanks, Marie! Marie Riepenhoff-Talty responded to Medusa's quickie challenge this weekend with some of her beautiful photography and poetry. If you missed the challenge—and it was a really short window, ending last night—don't fret; there'll be more. Meanwhile, focus on sending us 3-5 poems, plus art, photography, whatever by August 15 for the next Rattlesnake Review deadline. No bio/cover letter, prev-pubs or simul-subs; send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726.


This week in NorCal poetry:

•••There will be no reading at Sacramento Poetry Center tonight (8/6). Next week's reading will feature Stan Zumbiel and John Allen Cann (at Carmichael Library).

•••Thursday (8/9), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna’s Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Open mic before and after featured readers. Info: Art Luna at www.lunascafe.com (916-441-3931).

•••Saturday, August 11, 2 PM: Poets from Northern and Central California will read their own works from the Summer 2007 issue of Song of the San Joaquin at the McHenry Museum, 1402 "I" Street, Modesto. Free. Light refreshments will be served. (209) 543-1776 cleor36@yahoo.com/.

•••Sunday (8/12), 2:30-4:30 PM: Open mic at Juice & Java, 7067 Skyway, Paradise. Info: 530-872-9633.


Poetry tripping:

•••Saturday (8/18) & Sunday (8/19): Tuolumne Poetry Festival in Tuolumne Meadows (past Yosemite) at the rustic Parsons Memorial Lodge. It's free! Dorianne Laux, David Mas Masumoto, and Kay Ryan are featured poets, and Shira Kammen (violin and vielle) is the musician. There are lodges within an hour of Yosemite, so that's your best bet for overnight, as the camping cabins in the area are usually booked months in advance. Or make it a day trip—! You have to hike in: parking along the main road is fine all day, an then the hike up to the Parsons Lodge is about a half hour on a good trail, uphill the last stretch, but not too strenuous, as you're in the meadow near the Tuolumne River. Workshops are next to the river in the outdoors, so dress accordingly. No dogs or pets on the trail. Info: www.nps.gov/yose/parsons for the complete Parsons Memorial Lodge Summer series schedule.

Sat. 8/18 Schedule:
10-11:30 AM: What Makes a Poem Memorable/Poetry Workshop with Dorianne Laux
2-3:30 PM: Reading/Featured Poets and Writers
7:30-10 PM: Open reading and music—workshop participants and poets in the area gather for a rustic lodgeful of readers to share their poetry aloud. It's a great evening, usually ending about 10 PM.

Sunday (8/19):
10-11:30 AM: Finding Form in Nature: Poetry Workshop with Patti Trimble
2-3:30 PM: Featured poets and music

_____________________

Alfred Lord Tennyson

COME DOWN, O MAID
—Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)

Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height:
What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang),
In height and cold, the splendour of the hills?
But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease
To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine,
To sit a star upon the sparkling spire;
And come, for Love is of the valley, come,
For Love is of the valley, come thou down
And find him; by the happy threshold, he,
Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize,
Or red with spirted purple of the vats,
Or foxlike in the vine; nor cares to walk
With Death and Morning on the silver horns,
Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine,
Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice,
That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls
To roll the torrent out of dusky doors:
But follow; let the torrent dance thee down
To find him in the valley; let the wild
Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave
The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill
Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke
That like a broken purpose waste in air:
So waste not thou; but come; for all the vales
Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth
Arise to thee; the children call, and I
Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound,
Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet;
Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn,
The moan of doves is immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumberable bees.

______________________

Today Tennyson would've been 198 years old.

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).

Tuning Up the Harp

Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

CHURCHYARD
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

After the eulogies
the dead man lies a-graving
while flies and critics
go on nattering —
on the fringe a lilac blooms —
the former great man’s
writings deconstructed,
mispellings [sic], non-
sequiturs, naive assumptions,
flower-phrases that would
gag a schoolgirl nowadays,

as the maggots do their work.
Grasses green all over
the earth-pan summer
silence. Frogs, cicadas
go on psalming spring
and autumn. Listen.
Every century of seasons
totally turned over
dust to dust and star
to dark, in marble King David
tunes again his harp.

______________________

Thanks, TG! Taylor Graham took the bait: Send me a poem, drawing, or photo about cemeteries before midnight tonight (Sunday, 8/5) and I'll send you a poetry surprise. That's kathykieth@hotmail.com/. Watch for more poetry from TG in Rattlesnake Review 15, due out in September (deadline for submissions is 8/15), as well as her column, "Making Fun of Poetry."

—Medusa

Have the Milkman Ring You a Quart

Woman With Jar
Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

LINES TO A SEAGREEN LOVER
—Isabella Gardner (For Maurice English)

My lover never danced with me
Not minuet nor sarabande
We walked (embracing) on the sand

My lover never swam with me
We waded to our ankle bones
And winced and shivered on the stones

My lover never flew with me
We stared at sea birds slicing space
And cried What freedom Look what grace

I wish my love had lain with me
Not on the sand beside the sea
But under my ailanthus tree

____________________

THE MILKMAN
—Isabella Gardner

The door was bolted and the windows of my porch
were screened to keep invaders out, the mesh of rust-
proof wire sieved the elements. Did my throat parch
then sat I at my table there and ate with lust
most chaste, the raw red apples; juice, flesh, rind and core.
One still and summer noon while dining in the sun
I was poulticing my thirst with apples, slaking care,
when suddenly I felt a whir of dread. Soon, soon,
stiff as bone, I listened for the Milkman's tread.
I heard him softly bang the door of the huge truck
and then his boots besieged my private yard. I tried
to keep my eyes speared to the table, but the suck
of apprehension milked my force. At last he mounted
my backstairs, climbed to the top, and there he stood still
outside the bolted door. The sun's color fainted.
I felt the horror of his quiet melt me, steal
into my sockets, and seduce me to him from
my dinner. His hand clung round the latch like rubber.
I felt him ooze against the screen and shake the frame.
I had to slide the bolt; and thus I was the robber
of my porch. Breathing smiling shape of fright,
the Milkman made his entrance; insistent donor,
he held in soft bleached hands the bottled sterile fruit,
and gave me this fatal, this apostate dinner.
Now in winter I have retreated from the porch
into the house and the once red apples rot where
I left them on the table. Now if my throat parch
for fruit the Milkman rings a quart for my despair.

____________________

LETTER FROM SLOUGH POND
—Isabella Gardner

Here where you left me alone
the soft wind sighs through my wishbone
the sun is lapping at my flesh
I couple with the ripples of the fresh
pond water I am rolled by the roiling sea.
Love, in our wide bed, do you lie lonely?
The spoon of longing stirs my marrow
and I thank God this bed is narrow.

_____________________

Good morning, and thanks to Isabella Gardner for the dirty poems. :-) Thanks also to Katy Brown for a whole new disc of photo-treasures, such as the one above. Can you tell where today's photo was taken?

There will be NO reading at the Sacramento Poetry Center this coming Monday.

DRIVE-BY GIVEAWAY: Send me a poem, drawing, or photo about cemeteries before midnight tomorrow night (Sunday, 8/5) and I'll send you a poetry surprise. That's kathykieth@hotmail.com/.

And while you're rifling through your poems, don't forget that August 15 (a week from Wednesday), is the next deadline for poems, art, photos, etc. for Rattlesnake Review 15. Yes, it's that time already! Git crackin'!


Today Percy Bysshe Shelley would've been 215 years old.

BEREAVEMENT
—Percy Bysshe Shelley

How stern are the woes of the desolate mourner
As he bends in still grief o'er the hallowed bier,
As enanguished he turns from the laugh of the scorner,
And drops to perfection's remembrance a tear;
When floods of despair down his pale cheeks are streaming,
When no blissful hope on his bosom is beaming,
Or, if lulled for a while, soon he starts from his dreaming,
And finds torn the soft ties to affection so dear.
Ah, when shall day dawn on the night of the grave,
Or summer succeed to the winter of death?
Rest awhle, hapless victim! and Heaven will save
The spirit that hath faded away with the breath.
Eternity points, in its amaranth bower
Where no clouds of fate o'er the sweet prospect lour,
Unspeakable pleasure, of goodness the dower,
When woe fades away like the mist of the heath.

_____________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).

Between the Two Deserts

Camel Cricket

THE BLACK JEWEL
—W.S. Merwin

In the dark
there is only the sound of the cricket
south wind in the leaves
is the cricket
so is the surf on the shore
and the barking across the valley

the cricket never sleeps
the whole cricket is the pupil of one eye
it can run it can leap it can fly
in its back the moon
crosses the night

there is only one cricket
when I listen

the cricket lives in the unlit ground
in the roots
out of the wind
it has only the one sound

before I could talk
I heard the cricket
under the house
then I remembered summer

mice too and the blind lightning
are born hearing the cricket
dying they hear it
bodies of light turn listening to the cricket
the cricket is neither alive nor dead
the death of the cricket
is still the cricket
in the bare room the luck of the cricket
echoes

____________________

August Boot Camp:

Molly Fisk writes: The August Boot Camp is almost upon us; it runs from Sunday, Aug 12 through Friday, Aug 17. If you'd like to briefly tear yourself away from seasonal treats like fresh corn, real tomatoes, and hand-picked home-made blackberry pie in order to gather a bouquet of seasonal poems from your summer, this is the week to join us. If you don't know about Poetry Boot Camp, it's a six- day intensive and fun poetry workshop done via e-mail. Here's the place to read more: http://www.poetrybootcamp.com/. Boot Camp dates through the end of the year are posted on the left side. In addition to the regular Boot Camps, which are for generating new poems, I also work privately with people on revisions during Boot Camp weeks. It's the same format and price; just drop me a line if you're interested.


Bookworms:

Stephen Sadler sends us this address for KCRW's Bookworm program: http://www.kcrw.com/etc/programs/bw/. Thanks, Stephen!


Poems for Ina:

The Ina Coolbrith Circle 88th Annual Poetry Contest is open for entries. Postmark deadline is August 15. All ICC members (including out of state) and non-member California residents may enter. For contest rules and more info on the ICC, visit the website: www.coolpoetry.org/.

_____________________

A FAMILY
—W.S. Merwin

Would you believe me
if I told you the name of the farmers
at the end of the lake
where it grew shallow over the mossy rocks

and if you came in the morning the grass was blue
the fur of the rocks was wet the small frogs jumped
and the lake was silent behind you
except for echoes

you tied your boat carefully to a tree
before setting out across the cool pasture
watching for the bull
all the way to the barn

or if you came in the afternoon
the pasture glared and hummed the dark leaves smelled
from beside the water and the barn was drunk
by the time you got to it

to climb on the beams
to dive into the distant hay
will you believe
the names of the farmer's children

______________________

AIR
—W.S. Merwin

Naturally it is night.
Under the oveturned lute with its
One string I am going my way
Which has a strange sound.

This way the dust, that way the dust.
I listen to both sides
But I keep right on.
I remember the leaves sitting in judgment
And then winter.

I remember the rain with its bundle of roads.
The rain taking all its roads.
Nowhere.

Young as I am, old as I am,

I forget tomorrow, the blind man.
I forget the life among the buried windows.
The eyes in the curtains.
The wall
Growing through the immortelles.
I forget silence
The owner of the smile.

This must be what I wanted to be doing.
Walking at night between the two deserts,
Singing.

_____________________

And Tom Goff sends us this gem: thanks, Tom!

HOTE
(from a photo)
—Tom Goff, Carmichael

It might be Mingus, but the silhouette’s
fedora, not porkpie. This
shadow holds great substance
(is a style, augments the substance),
reveals a brooder, a forehead.
Some dark thing warms inside the head,
rises in music, to the music.
Afar, a sort of spire, a sort
of spice grinder, peppermill,
prayer wheel. The hat
sprouts a building sign: “HOTE.” The eye
rushes to complete the word;
but careful. It could spell “Hote”
as in Hote Jazz. Listen,
while le jazz hote steams. Concentrate,
while the hat overhangs the shadow brow,
on the taut hand pinning down string,
clawing fingerboard. Were this
not a double bass with a scroll atop,
those might be fingers
dangerously around a human
neck.

_____________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).

Fog Shawls & Mist Hands

Fort Bragg
Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

NEW WEATHER
—Carl Sandburg

Mist came up as a man's hand.
Fog lifted as a woman's shawl.
Fair weather rode in with a blue oath.
One large cloud bellied in a white wind.
Two new winds joined for weather.
Splinters of rain broke out of the west.
Blue rains soaked in a lowland loam.
The dahlia leaves are points of red.
Bees roam singing in the buckwheat.
Russet and gold are the wheatstraws.
Forgotten bells fade and change.
Forgetful bells fill the air.
Fog shawls and mist hands come again.
New weather weaves new garments.

_____________________

DEEP SEA WANDERING
—Carl Sandburg

deep sea was the wandering
deep brass the dripping loot
deep crimson the bloodspill
lyrics begotten on lush lips
and many a hawser they saw
rotting rope and rusting chain
and anchors many lost anchors

______________________

DREAMING FOOL
—Carl Sandburg

I was the first of the fools
(So I dreamed)
And all the fools of the world
were put into me and I was
the biggest fool of all.

Others were fools in the morning
Or in the evening or on Saturdays
Or odd days like Friday the Thirteenth
But me—I was a fool every day in the week
And when asleep I was the sleeping fool.
(So I dreamed.)

____________________

CHILD FACE
—Carl Sandburg

There are lips as strange and soft
As a rim of moon many miles off,
White on a fading purple sea.
"Was it there, far-off, real,
Or did my eyes play me a trick?"

A finger can be laid across it,
Laid on a little mouth's white yearning,
Only as a white rim of moon
Can be picked off a blue sea
And sent in a love letter.

Once a child face lay in the moonlight
Of an early spring night.

______________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).

Of Clouds & Jade & Lotus Buds

Flaming June
Painting by Sir Frederick Leighton

WEARY
—Fan Tseng Hsiang, 1846-1931

She did not even take the time
To lay aside her robes,
And her jeweled pins
Are twisted all askew.

The tresses of her hair, disordered,
Lie as clouds
Against the silken gauze
That veils her jade-like form.

Her head droops wearily
Upon the pillow of red sandalwood;
Her face, half-turned away,
Relaxed in sleep,
Is a perfect lotus bud.

______________________

MY LADY WALKS
—Fan Tseng Hsiang

Through the long gallery
You pass,
Turning ever and anon
To watch your shadow—
And to display your slender waist.

Slowly you walk, And lightly,
Lifting with your jade-like hand
Your silken robe.

Your passing
Is like summer rains
On Wu Shan's crest,
The whisper of the gentle wind,
The drifting of a cloud.

_____________________

A GLIMPSE OF BEAUTY
—Chien Liang Tse (died 1402)

Laughing and teasing
She walks to and fro
With swaying arms.

Now she pretends she is timid,
And lifts her silken sleeve
To hide her blush.

It covers the red embroidery
Of her coat,
So that only vaguely can I see
The full curves of her snowy breast
Beneath.

_____________________

JUST SIXTEEN
—Hsu Chien

Standing there
In the flickering candle light,
Freed from your silken robes,
You are more beautiful than precious jade,
And more fragrant than those orchids
Beside your ivory bed.

With such charm of face and form
Who can believe
That you have spent these long spring months
Alone?

___________________

WAITING IN THE LANE
—Yun Shou P'ing

As I waited
In the shadowy lane
All overgrown with moss,
A startled wild goose
Flew up
Beside the path.

She is coming!
The scent of her rouge
Intoxicates,
And her hesitating footsteps
Strangely stir
My anxious heart.

A ray of light
From her lantern
Gleams softly on her hair,
And she walks so gently
That the dust
Is not disturbed
Beneath her feet.

Now she leans
Against the wall,
Her face half-hidden
In her sleeve.

Ah,
She is as beautiful
As a nymph from Paradise!


(Today's poetry is from A Garden of Peonies: Translations fo Chinese Poems into English Verse by Henry H. Hart, Stanford University Press, 1938.)

____________________

—Medusa

Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their POETRY, PHOTOS and ART, as well as announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com (or snail ‘em to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) 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.)

SnakeWatch: Up-to-the-minute Snake news:

Journals (free publications): Rattlesnake Review14 is now available at The Book Collector; contributors and subscribers should have received theirs by now. If you're none of those, and can't get down to The Book Collector, send two bux (for postage) to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you a copy. If you want more than one, please send $2 for the first one and $1 for copies after that. Next deadline, for RR15, is August 15. VYPER6 (for youth 13-19) is in The Book Collector; next deadline is Nov. 1. Snakelets10 (for kids 0-12) is also at The Book Collector; next deadline is Oct. 1.

Books/free broadsides: June's releases include Tom Miner's chapbook, North of Everything; David Humphreys' littlesnake broadside, Cominciare Adagio; and #3 in B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series, this one featuring Jane Blue.

ZZZZZZZ: Shh! The Snake is sleeping! There will be no Snake readings/releases in July or August. Then we return with a bang on September 12, presenting Susan Kelly-DeWitt's new chapbook, Cassiopeia Above the Banyan Tree. See the online journal, Mudlark, for a hefty sample of poems from her book; that’s http://www.unf.edu/mudlark/. Also coming in the Fall: new issues of the Review, Snakelets and VYPER [see the above deadlines], plus more littlesnake broadsides from NorCal poets near and far, and a continuation of B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series—including an anthology of interviews to be released for Sacramento Poetry Month (October).