Keeping the Snake Alive

CAT
—Shinkichi Takahashi

A quiet, a very quiet place
With camellias in bloom.

Their redness faded, nothing
Else remained. The image

Itself vanished—it might
Have been the white magnolias.

A gray cat squats there,
Pale blue earth between its paws.

_____________________

SUN
—Shinkichi Takahashi

Stretched in the genial sun
The mountain snake
Tickled its length along the rock.

The wind rustled the sunshine,
But the snake,
Fully uncoiled, was calm.

Fifth thousand years ago!
Later the same sun
Blazed across the pyramids,

Now it warms my chest.
But below, through
Shattered rock, the snake

Thrusts up its snout, fangs
Flicking at my thoughts
Strewn about the rocks like violets.

It's you, faces cut like triangles,
Have kept the snake alive!
The pavement's greened with leaves.

______________________

Calendar addition for Friday:

•••Friday (1/18), 7:30 PM: The Writers of the New Sun/Escritores del Nuevo Sol presents a book signing and reading by Luke Breit and Patrick Grizzell at La Raza Galeria Posada, 1022 – 22nd St. Sacramento. $5 or as you can afford. Luke Breit is a widely published poet and author of the satirical novel, The Tumultuous Times of Jesus in the 21st Century. His collections of poetry include, among others, Messages, Words The Air Speaks and Unintended Lessons. He is a former president of the Sacramento Poetry Center's Board of Directors, and a longtime literary community activist. He has also taught poetry workshops through Poets In The Schools and the Arts In Corrections prison program. See more at myspace.com/lukewriter/ and www.lukebreit.com/

Note: Luke is also the featured interview subject on public radio’s INSIGHT, Wednesday, January 16, 2 pm, discussing his novel. Since the contemporary satire depicts Jesus returning as a political consultant, it is very, very timely. This is on KXJZ; 90.9 FM, Host Jeffrey Callison.

Patrick Grizzell's collections of poems include Dark Music, Chicken Months and, with painter Jimi Suzuki, a chapbook of sumi paintings and poetry entitled Minotaure Into Night. He also has a new collection in manuscript entitled Writing In Place. He is a founding member and former Executive Director of the Sacramento Poetry Center, and has worn many and varied arts hats over the years. He is also a songwriter and musician and performs regularly with his band, Junkyard Burlesque. See more at myspace.com/patrickgrizzell and myspace.com/junkyardburlesque

Los Escritores del Nuevo Sol/Writers of the New Sun is a literary community, established in 1993, primarily to foster and honor the literary arts of the cultures & traditions of Chicano, Native American and Spanish-language communities. The group has published an anthology, Voces del Nuevo Sol/Voices of the New Sun. Members write in English, Spanish, or both. Regular writing meeting is 11 AM on the 1st Saturday of each month. Info: 916- 456-5323. The public is welcome to all activities. Website: www.escritoresdelnuevosol.com/


Cache Creek workshops return!

THE BIG QUESTIONS, a workshop for writers, philosophers, & all creative artists will be held at Cache Creek Nature Preserve on Thursdays from 10 AM-noon, February 7 until March 27 (8 weeks). Free to the general public by registration (see below). Join Cache Creek Writer-in-Residence Rae Gouirand for a genuinely interrogative workshop designed for those interested in asking questions, questioning their answers, and reconsidering the role of uncertainty in creative practice. Developing a creative practice of any kind means joining a conversation about 'the big questions' surrounding one's experience and one's art. In this workshop, we'll examine writings (and possibly other materials) that embody the interrogative spirit and stretch our means for responding to the questions they raise. What does it mean to leave a question in place? What does one choose by refusing to answer a question, or changing a question? What does one choose by asking at all? What can a question become? The goal of this workshop is to awaken new and vital sites in our creative work. All interested community members are welcome, regardless of whether or not they think of themselves as 'writers.' Participants are challenged to open up new work (which can take the shape of writing, visual art, meditative work…) in response to our group conversations. Approximately half of each class session is devoted to independent work (via hikes, birdwatching, sense work, on-site writing, etc.) at the Preserve site. We proceed not as a critique-oriented workshop but as a generative community.

The Writer-in-Residence program at Cache Creek Nature Preserve provides an unparalleled opportunity to learn from the local landscape and to experience the connection between the natural world and creative practice. Our outdoor classroom and gathering spirit make this workshop series a unique opportunity for those who would like to grow their creative lives from the support of both human and natural community. The Preserve is located in rural Yolo County, five miles northwest of Woodland, California. The 130-acres of outdoor classroom are augmented by indoor offices and an antique barn. The surrounding habitats include riparian forest, wetlands, willow thickets, open water, heritage oak woodlands, and grasslands bordered on one side by Cache Creek. Participants should dress for the weather and wear shoes comfortable for walking outdoors. In the event of heavy rain, the portion of class devoted to group conversation is held in the Preserve office. Carpools from Davis and Sacramento can be arranged at the first meeting.

To register, email Rae directly at rgouirand@gmail.com with your name, email address, and phone number. Space is limited. Confirmed participants will receive directions to the Preserve by email in the week preceding the start of class.

_____________________

SPARROW IN WINTER
—Shinkichi Takahashi

Breastdown fluttering in the breeze,
The sparrow's full of air holes.
Let the winds of winter blow,
Let them crack a wing, two,
The sparrow doesn't care.

The air streams through him, free, easy,
Scattering feathers, bending legs.
He hops calmly, from branch to empty branch
In an absolutely spaceless world.

I'd catch, skewer, broil you,
But my every shot misses: you're impossible.
All at once there's the sound
Of breaking glass, and houses begin
To crumple. Rising quickly,
An atomic submarine nudges past your belly.

_____________________

TOAD
—Shinkichi Takahashi

"The instant he boarded the plane
Toad was in London"—wrong.

Toad's unaware of distance,
between his belly and man's,
between himself, the crushing wheel.

"Shrinking utterly, he's nowhere"—right.

London, Tokyo flattened by webbed feet
all at once. In the marsh—no distance, sound—
a scaly back is overgrown with moonflowers.


(Today's poetry was translated from the Japanese by Lucien Stryk, with the assistance of Takashi Ikemoto.)
______________________

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15—sooner than you think!

Coming in February: The Snake is still in winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series. Come help us launch all of this on Weds., Feb. 13 at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM.

Aftermath

Photo by Stephani Schaefer

SNOW
—Taylor Graham, Somerset

No road, no phone, no power. Only snow.
No sun yet, just a dimmer dark, a gray
like cancelled promises. I find my way
downstairs by flashlight to the woodstove’s glow,
a barely-pulsing heart that doesn’t warm
the corners of the room. The kettle’s cold.
The only news that matters: will it storm?
No sun yet, just a dimmer dark, a gray
like newsprint crumpled in the stove. How old
the day already seems. But look – a bird –
a pair of mourning doves has found the seed
I scattered. And a towhee – how they’ve stirred
the snow up! Here I’ve got a bird-stampede
below my window. Scratch the thankless word
that was my mantra just a breath ago:
No road, no phone, no power, only snow.

______________________

Thanks, Steph and Taylor Graham! Stephani Schaefer of Los Molinos writes: Look what I found between rain squalls. I've never been this close to one. With power down, I had nothing to play with except my camera. God bless my camera!

Is everybody out there back to "normal"—electricity-wise, at least? Michelle Kunert wrote about the storms, too:


JANUARY STORM IN SAC
—Michelle Kunert, Sacramento

Wind ripping through like a hurricane
Clouds of water beat down
as it floods out the streets
and shorts out traffic lights
Guaranteed only for sunny California days
it’s a new year
but it brought again "Old man winter"
cursing Sacramentans with his temper
while those so blest with a home or shelter
can think they have respite from the storm
But that doesn't stop the arriving bills
coming, even drenched with running ink
Those at home won’t brave driving,
those who are left without electricity
from blown-down ancient power lines
The postman is left looking at frowning faces
as if begging "Please don't kill me,
I'm only the messenger."

______________________

Thanks, Michelle!


This week in NorCal poetry:

•••Tonight, Monday (1/14), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Emmanuel Sigauke and Shevonna Blackshire at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Open mic to follow. Emmanuel Sigauke was born in Zimbabwe, where he started writing at the age of thirteen. In the ensuing years he worked as a coordinator for writers' activities in Zimbabwe. After graduating from the University of Zimbabwe with a BA in English, he moved to California, where he completed his graduate studies. He teaches English at Cosumnes River College in Sacramento, where he is one of the editors of the Cosumnes River Journal. He has published poetry in journals and magazines in Zimbabwe, Ireland and the United States. His recent publications have appeared in Virtual Poet, Slow Trains Journal, Ibhuku, and AfricanWriter.com and Taj Mahal Review. He also edits the online literary magazine, Munyori Poetry Journal [http://www.munyori.com/].

Shevonna Blackshire was born in Sacramento, and she has been writing poetry and short stories since she was six years old. Even before she could write, she was telling stories. She is returning to the poetry circuit after an extended hiatus. Her favorite quote is: "Say what you feel and feel what you say."

Next week's readers at SPC (1/21) will be Michael Cluff and Michael Barbarini.

•••Wednesday (1/16), 9 PM: Poetry Night at Bistro 33 (226 F Street in Davis) presents Joseph and Susan Finkleman, Poems in Two Voices. Of Joseph and Susan Finkleman's poetry, Sacramento Poetry Center Host Arturo Mantecon has said ""It pleases in that primal way that only song can and reminds us of the musicality that once characterized all poetry." Find out more about Joseph and Susan Finkleman at their website: www.visionsandviews.com/.

•••Thursday (1/17), 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Open mic before and after.

•••Friday (1/18), 7-8 PM: Our House Poetry Reading presents well-known Sacramento area poets Crawdad Nelson and Rebecca Morrison at the reading's temporary location at El Dorado Dance Academy. The Academy is located at 3921 Sandstone Dr. Suite 4, El Dorado Hills. From Hwy 50, go south on Latrobe Rd. past the signals at White Rock Rd., Golden Foothill Pkwy, and Suncast Ln. The next signal is Golden Foothill Pkwy again (it's a loop). Turn right, follow Golden Foothill around a curve; make a left on Sandstone and go to the dead-end. Park in the parking lot on the right. Open mic to follow. No charge.

•••Saturday (1/19), 7-9 PM: Underground Poetry Series presents LaRue and Yoke Breaker, plus open mic. $3. Underground Books, 2814 35th St., Sacramento (35th and Broadway).

_____________________

FOG
—Kenneth Patchen

Rain's lovely gray daughter has lost her tall lover.
He whose mouth she knew; who was good to her.

I've heard her talk of him when the river lights
Scream 'Christ! it's lonely; Christ! it's cold.'

Heard the slug cry of her loneliness calling him
When the ship's mast points to no star in the North.

Many men have thought they were he;
Feeling her cold arms as they held death in theirs—

The woman-face in the frame of nothingness;
As the machinery of sleep turned its first wheel;

And they slept, while angels fell in colored sound
Upon the closing waters. Child and singing cradle one.

O sorrowful lady whose lover is that harbor
In a heaven where all we of longing lie, clinging together

as it gets dark.

_____________________

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The latest issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15—sooner than you think!

Coming in February: The Snake is still in winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series. Come help us launch all of this on Weds., Feb. 13 at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, 7:30 PM.

Medusa Sleeps...

January is Mardi Gras month! Note the beads...

UTTERANCE
—W.S. Merwin

Sitting over words
very late I have heard a kind of whispered sighing
not far
like a night wind in pines or like the sea in the dark
the echo of everything that has ever
been spoken
still spinning its one syllable
between the earth and silence

_____________________

Even the snakes of Medusa have succombed to our winter hibernation! Our electricity was out for a day and a half, then our Internet was out for two days after that. In short, the message from the Cosmos is clear: we're taking the rest of the week off. Medusa will return to the airwaves Monday, Jan. 14.

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The new issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15. (Sooner than you think!)

Coming in February: The Snake has crawled into winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series.

Three Drops of Valerian...

THE STORM
—Walter de la Mare

First there were two of us, then there were three of us,
Then there was one bird more,
Four of us—wild white sea-birds,
Treading the ocean floor;
And the wind rose, and the sea rose,
To the angry billows' roar—
With one of us—two of us—three of us—four of us
Sea-birds on the shore.

Soon there were five of us, soon there were nine of us,
And lo! in a trice sixteen!
And the yeasty surf curdled over the sands,
The gaunt grey rocks between;
And the tempest raved, and the lightning's fire
Struck blue on the spindrift hoar—
And on four of us—ay, and on four times four of us
Sea-birds on the shore.

And our sixteen waxed to thirty-two,
And they to past three score—
A wild, white welter of winnowing wings,
And ever more and more;
And the winds lulled, and the sea went down,
And the sun streamed out on high,
Gilding the pools and the spume and the spars
'Neath the vast blue deeps of the sky;

And the isles and the bright green headlands shone,
As they'd never shone before,
Mountains and valleys of silver cloud,
Wherein to swing, sweep, soar—
A host of screeching, scolding, scrabbling
Sea-birds on the shore—
A snowy, silent, sun-washed drift
Of sea-birds on the shore.

______________________

This weekend in NorCal poetry:

•••Friday (1/4), 7:30-9 PM: The Other Voice presents the dynamic husband and wife team, Susan and Joseph Finkleman, giving us their unique two-voice poems with music to accompany them, featuring flautist, Francesca Reitano, and percussionist, Mark Halverson. It’s a brand-new year, so come and party in the library of the Davis Unitarian Universalist Church, 27074 Patwin Road, Davis. Refreshments and Open Mike follow the reading, so bring along a poem or two to share. Susan says, We've got 8 brand-new poems for you, as well as a few old favorites. Susan and Joe have a SnakeRings SpiralChap, Poems in Two Voices, available, as well as CDs of their work. Check out their website: www.visionsandviews.com/. They can also be reached at josephfinkleman@yahoo.com/.

•••Saturday (1/5), 8 PM: Special reading: Songs for Maya, featuring Litany with Miles Maniaci, Mario Ellis Hill, Vincent Cobalt, Robert Lozano and others. Luna’s Café, 1414 16th St., Sacramento. Info: 916-441-3931. Hosted by B.L. Kennedy.

•••Also Sat. (1/5), 7 PM: Rhythm N Rhymes features Autumn Sky & Fair Trade and Once and Future Poet. Butch and Nellie's, 1827 I St., Sacramento. Free for open mic participants, $5 for others. Open mic sign-ups at 6:30. 916-443-6133.

•••Monday (1/7), 7:30 PM: Sacramento Poetry Center presents Barbara Jane Reyes and Oscar Bermeo at HQ for the Arts, 1719 25th St., Sacramento. Open mic to follow. Barbara Jane Reyes [http://www.barbarajanereyes.com/] was born in Manila, Philippines and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. She received her undergraduate education at UC Berkeley and earned an MFA at SF State University in 2005. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Asian Pacific American Journal, Chain, Interlope, North American Review, and Tinfish. She is the author of Gravities of Center (SF: Arkipelago Books Publishing, 2003). In September 2005, Reyes was awarded the Academy of American Poets Prize [James Laughlin Award] for her second collection of poems, Poeta en San Francisco, published by Tinfish Press. Listen to her at Fishhouse: [http://www.fishousepoems.org/archives/barbara_jane_reyes/]

Oscar Bermeo was born in Ecuador and raised in the Bronx; he is a BRIO (Bronx Recognizes Its Own) award-winning poet, educator and literary events coordinator who now makes his home in Oakland, where he is the poetry editor for Tea Party magazine and lives with his wife, poeta Barbara Jane Reyes.

______________________

WINTER INSOMNIA
—Raymond Carver

The mind can't sleep, can only lie awake and
gorge, listening to the snow gather as
for some final assault.

It wishes Chekhov were here to minister
something—three drops of valerian, a glass
of rose water—anything, it wouldn't matter.

The mind would lilke to get out of here
onto the snow. It would like to run
with a pack of shaggy animals, all teeth,

under the moon, across the snow, leaving
no prints or spoor, nothing behind.
The mind is sick tonight.

____________________

HOMINY AND RAIN
—Raymond Carver

In a little patch of ground beside
the wall of the Earth Sciences building,
a man in a canvas hat was on
his knees doing something in the rain
with some plants. Piano music
came from an upstairs window
in the building next door. Then
the music stopped.
And the window was brought down.

You told me those white blossoms
on the cherry trees in the Quad
smelled like a can of just-opened
hominy. Hominy. They reminded you
of that. This may or may not
be true. I can't say.
I've lost my sense of smell,
along with any interest I may ever
have expressed in working
on my knees with plants, or
vegetables. There was a barefoot

madman with a ring in his ear
playing his guitar and singing
reggae. I remember that.
Rain puddling around his feet.
The place he'd picked to stand
had Welcome Fear
painted on the sidewalk in red letters.

At the time it seemed important
to recall the man on his knees
in front of his plants.
The blossoms. Music of one kind,
and another. Now I'm not so sure.
I can't say, for sure.

*

It's a little like some tiny cave-in,
in my brain. There's a sense
that I've lost—not everything,
not everything, but far too much.
A part of my life forever.
Like hominy.

Even though your arm stayed linked
in mine. Even though that. Even
though we stood quietly in the
doorway as the rain picked up.
And watched it without saying
anything. Stood quietly.
At peace, I think. Stood watching
the rain. While the one
with the guitar played on.

______________________

THE WINDOW
—Raymond Carver

A storm blew in last night and knocked out
the electricity. When I looked
through the window, the trees were translucent.
Bent and covered with rime. A vast calm
lay over the countryside.
I knew better. But at that moment
I felt I'd never in my life made any
false promises, nor committed
so much as one indecent act. My thoughts
were virtuous. Later on that morning,
of course, electricity was restored.
The sun moved from behind the clouds,
melting the hoarfrost.
And things stood as they had before.

______________________

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The new issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15. (Sooner than you think!)

Coming in February: The Snake has crawled into winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. (Medusa is always awake, however, and will keep posting through most of that time. Send stuff.) Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series.

Sailing Eternity

TIME
—Shinkichi Takahashi

Time like a lake breeze
Touched his face,
All thought left his mind.

One morning the sun, menacing,
Rose from behind a mountain,
Singeing—like hope—the trees.

Fully awakened, he lit his pipe
And assumed the sun-inhaling pose:
Time poured down—like rain, like fruit.

He glanced back and saw a ship
Moving towards the past. In one hand
He gripped the sail of eternity,

And stuffed the universe into his eyes.

______________________

PENGUINS
—Shinkichi Takahashi

Penguins waddle across the Antarctic
Without hands, shadows.
There's no life, no death,
Stopping, advancing,
Raining, blossoming.

I had a fish drying in the sun
To eat. Well, there was
Neither fish nor sun.
Penguins do not eat, and all night through
The sun roams the bottom of the sea.

_____________________

COLLAPSE
—Shinkichi Takahashi

Time oozed from my pores,
Drinking tea
I tasted the seven seas.

I saw in the mist formed
Around me
The fatal chrysanthemum, myself.

Its scent choked, and as I
Rose, squaring
My shoulders, the earth collapsed.

_______________________

HAND
—Shinkichi Takahashi

I stretch my hand—
everything disappears.

I saw in the snake-head
my dead mother's face,

in ragged clouds
grief of my dead father.

Snap my fingers—
time's no more.

My hand's the universe,
it can do anything.

_____________________

Shawn, our Great American Pin-up!

Shawn Pittard, our newest columnist for Rattlesnake Review, is also a writer for The Great American Pinup website. Check him out on their “Poetry is a Kind of Lying” post at http://greatamericanpinup.blogspot.com/2008/01/poetry-is-kind-of-lying.html/. And find out more about Shawn on his Rattlechap page at rattlesnakepress.com/.

David Humphreys was inspired by the New Year and by Steph Schaefer's fog poem yesterday. Thanks, David!

RAKING LEAVES FOR LOU
—David Humphreys, Stockton

Went out to walk the dog in fog
this morning, New Year’s yesterday
a quiet holiday. Passed a hawk in
a fir tree, stopped to make sure and
it flew over to another tree setting up
on the very top, made you remember
your Mom’s love of hawks. They have
always been her favorite bird, like some
people think of crows or ravens as messengers
from another world same as cats were sacred
in Ancient Egypt. In the shady chill on
the south street you thought again that
there would probably come a time when
she would not be there to call and talk to
and you resolved again to end your mourning
for your father’s passing away last year.
Walking farther down into the rising sun
you passed a choir of birds off in darkness
to the south. Returning home to yard work
fallen leaves and trimming the Crape Myrtle
out back you read about your neighbor Lou,
whose ash trees light up the sky each fall,
passed away like another year in the Obituaries.

_____________________

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The new issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15. (Sooner than you think!)

Coming in February: The Snake has crawled into winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. (Medusa is always awake, however, and will keep posting through most of that time. Send stuff.) Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series.

From Bad to Better

Photo by Stephani Schaefer

WOODSMOKE AND FOG
—Stephani Schaefer, Los Molinos

Walking into a new year
through woodsmoke and fog I don't believe
there can be evil in the world.

Or I believe the sweet breath
of so many still sleeping is what makes halos
around each point of light.

At least this year
I don't find it in my own black heart, don't
read it onto the page before me.

Through this morning as soft as goosedown
I walk open-handed
toward the door that opens daily in the east.

______________________

Thanks, Steph! It's not too late—send your poems and/or photos and artwork about openings to Medusa (kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) by midnight tonight (Weds., Jan. 2) and I'll send you a copy of Pat D'Alessandro's new SnakeRings SpiralChap, Metamorphic Intervals from the Insanity of Life, or any other Snake product of your choosing (see rattlesnakepress.com).


Tonight in NorCal poetry:

•••Tonight (Weds., Jan. 2), 9 PM: Poetry Night at Bistro 33 in Davis (the Banquet Room at 226 F St.) presents Rob Roy, Davis musician, poet and former candidate for Davis City Council. In addition to his poetry and music, Roy is known in Davis as the manager of the Davis Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream store, as a substitute teacher in Davis schools, and as a DJ on radio station KDVS. Roy has been writing poetry for many years, and was responsible in 2003 for founding Write Club, a UC Davis and City of Davis support and performance group for local writers. Rob Roy performs the lead vocals, acoustic guitar, banjo and accordion for the local folk punk band, Sterling Riot. Please join us for this Davis stalwart as he entertains us with provocative poetry and song. An open mic will follow the featured performer. Info: 530-756-4556 or “Poetry in Davis” on Facebook.com/.


New network for writers:

Donald Anderson of Stockton writes: Come join me on PoetsEspresso! I'm starting up this social network for artists of all types to share and communicate, feel free to try it out! Go here to join: http://sunshadowmountain.ning.com/?xgi=48jqIxv/.

______________________

I STOOD ON A TOWER
—Alfred Lord Tennyson

I stood on a tower in the wet,
And New Year and Old Year met,
And winds were roaring and blowing;
And I said, "O years, that meet in tears,
Have you all that is worth the knowing?
Science enough and exploring,
Wanderers coming and going,
Matter enough for deploring,
But aught that is worth the knowing?"
Seas at my feet were flowing,
Waves on the shingle pouring,
Old year roaring and blowing,
And New Year blowing and roaring.

_____________________

And a New Year's wish for all of us:

SOMETIMES
—Sheenagh Pugh

Sometimes things don't go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,
sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man; decide they care
enough, that they can't leave a stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

______________________

—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.) Medusa cannot vouch for the moral fiber of other publications, contests, etc. that she lists, however, so submit to them at your own risk. For more info about the Snake Empire, including guidelines for submitting to or obtaining our publications, click on the link to the right of this column: Rattlesnake Press (rattlesnakepress.com).

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

Rattlesnake Review: The new issue of Rattlesnake Review (Sweet 16) is available for free at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento, or send $2 to P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726 and I'll mail you one. Next deadline (for Issue #17, due out in mid-March) is February 15. (Sooner than you think!)

Coming in February: The Snake has crawled into winter hibernation for January: no readings, no books, no broadsides. (Medusa is always awake, however, and will keep posting through most of that time. Send stuff.) Then, on February 13, Rattlesnake Press will roar to life again with a new SnakeRings SpiralChap from Don and Elsie Feliz (To Berlin With Love), plus a new littlesnake broadside from Carlena Wike (Going the Distance), as well as Volume Two of Conversations, B.L. Kennedy's Rattlesnake Interview Series.

Wishing You the Best

A NEW YEAR, 2008
—James Lee Jobe, Davis

Everything is the same, equal, in The Void,
the Giant Suck. There is no hallowed ground.

One revolution around the sun; we call that a year.
Who is to say where the beginning is, or the end?

At some point we started counting, some people
just need to count. It doesn't mean anything.

And now we start to count anew. We place
a new numeral at the end of the date. We celebrate.

Why not? Drink the wine. Make love.
Tomorrow we can double-check the digits.

Everything is the same, equal, in The Void,
the Giant Suck. There is no hallowed ground.

It is all hallowed ground.

_______________________

—Medusa

Send your poems and/or photos and artwork about openings to Medusa (kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726) by midnight Weds. (Jan. 2—that's tomorrow!) and I'll send you a copy of Pat D'Alessandro's new SnakeRings SpiralChap, Metamorphic Intervals from the Insanity of Life, or any other Snake product of your choosing (see rattlesnakepress.com).