I WILL MAKE YOU BROOCHES
—Robert Louis Stevenson
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will make a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.
I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,
Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,
And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white
In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.
And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!
That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.
(Today Robert Louis Stevenson would've been 156 years old.)
_______________________
This week's line-up:
•••Tonight, Monday (11/13), Sacramento Poetry Center Board Members will be reading their own poetry; go to the monthly Board meeting with them at 5:45 PM at HQ, 25th & R Sts., Sac, and then stay for the reading at its special time, 7 PM. Bring your own poems to read, too.
•••Also tonight, 8 PM: The Moody Blues Poetry Series present One Tough Poet at "A Taste of Laguna", 9080 Laguna Main in Laguna. $5, open mic. Hosted by Ms. LaRue, music by DJ Barney B.
•••Wednesday, 11/15, 6:30 PM will be the final Urban Voices reading, hosted by BL Kennedy. It will feature Kathryn Hohlwein and Pat Grizzell. South Natomas Library, 2901 Truxel Rd., Sac.
•••Also Weds., 10 PM-midnight: Mics and Moods at Capitol Garage, 1500 K St., Sac. Features and open mic, hosted by Khiry Malik. 21 years of age and older; $5 cover. Info: 916-492-9336 or www.malikspeaks.com.
•••Thurs., 11/16, 8 PM: Poems-For-All free-for-all at Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. An evening celebrating Richard Hansen, publisher of the Poems-For-All mini-chap series. Selected poets will read from their works published in the series. Free.
•••Thursday (11/16), 7:30 PM: The Nevada County Poetry Series & The Center for the Arts presents NCPS's Season Finale, a party to celebrate the release of NCPS's Year 2006 Anthology. $5, or $1 for those under 18. Refreshments. Off Center Stage (enter from Richardson St.) behind The Center for the Arts, 314 Main St., Grass Valley. Info: 530-432-8196.
•••Friday, 11/17, 7 PM: Our House poetry reading features Margaret Ellis Hill and Katy Brown. An open mic follows. Our House Gallery & Framing is located at 4510 Post St. in El Dorado Hills Town Center; take Latrobe Road south and turn into the shopping center on the left. Free.
•••Sat., 11/18, 7-9 PM: Underground Poetry Series features Crawdad Nelson, Brett Freeman, Laura Cook, and Juanita "Yoke Breaker" Mason, plus open mic. $3. Underground Books, 2814 35th St. (at Broadway).
•••Saturday, 11/18, 8 PM: FRANK ANDRICK IS A NAME-DROPPING WHORE (A BENEFIT): An evening of provocative and scandalous work at HQ, 25th & R Sts., Sac. to help poet frank andrick cover his medical costs. Featuring frank andrick, Gene Bloom, Josh Fernandez, Bill Gainer, James Lee Jobe, Rachel Leibrock, Ann Menebroker, Geoffrey Neill, Barbara Noble, Bill Pieper, Rachel Savage, Teryl & Eric (and many last- minute surprises). Also: an audio-visual overlay by J. Greenberg.
frank andrick, the Lockeford-San Francisco-Sacramento poet who has given so much of himself to the Sacramento literary scene, has suffered from a series of health setbacks that have led to hospital stays and mounting medical expenses. His friends have assembled this event in an effort to help him financially. We ask those attending give what they can at the door ($2-20). Additionally, items will be available for sale and auctioned, with all the money going to frank.
This event is sponsored by Poets & Writers with a grant they've received through the James Irvine Foundation.
Several folks have asked how they can donate to frank's medical fund if they aren't coming to the event. Cards, well-wishes and donations can be sent or dropped off in a sealed envelope at The Book Collector. frank has no checking account, so checks should be made out to The Book Collector, and we will give him cash. Or mail them to:
frank andrick
c/o The Book Collector
1008 24th Street
Sacramento, CA 95816
•••Also Saturday, 4 PM: The Central California Art Association and the Mistlin Art Gallery announces a poetry reading that will feature Lisa Verigin at the gallery, 1015 J St/, downtown Modesto. Lisa ia a Central Valley native who migrated to Georgia State University for her MFA, the University of Nebraska for her PhD, then back to Modesto, where she currently lives. Her poetry has appeared in a wide variety of literary journals, including Quarterly West, Bloom, Solo, Court Green, The Worcester Review, The American Literary Review and Poet Lore, to name a few. A former editorial assistant for Prairie Schooner, Verigin is author of the chapbook, Two-Reel Comedy. There will be an open mic following her reading to celebrate the second issue of the local poetry journal hardpan, in which she is one of the 25 contributors. Free.
•••Also Saturday, 1-3 PM, Shonda René hosts a poetry workshop at Acacia Cafe, corner of Acacia St. and Yosemite Ave. in Stockton. Be sure to read T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" for the discussion: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T.S._Elliot#The_Love_Song_of_J._Alfred_Prufrock
_______________________
REQUIEM
—Robert Louis Stevenson
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
Here he lies where he long'd to be;
Home is the sailor, home from sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
_______________________
Happy Birthday, Bob!
—Medusssssssa
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.)
Monday, November 13, 2006
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Watching for Spring Birds
COCKTAIL HOUR
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones, Tehama
For thirty years
they have sat together
as day fades into evening
Lifted glasses in toasts
smiled over triumphs
raged or wiped tears
over plans and people that sank
Today at his elbow
a cut-glass tumbler
filled with red wine
the color of hummingbird throats
diluted with water
and a trail of mucous down the side
In Alice’s hand
a crystal tumbler
of scotch over ice
barely watered
retaining the golden hue
of dried gorse and bracken
Wine abandoned
he dozes
head falls on chest
Alice wonders where wonderland went
picks up her novel
reads a chapter or two
Refills the glass of scotch
before heating dinner
_______________________
Thanks, PWJ, for this poignant poem. For the rest of you, send me any poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane Blue's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
_______________________
The year will be over soon,
But I'm still here in my little hut.
Cold autumn rain falls sadly,
And leaves pile up on the temple steps.
I pass time absent-mindedly reading sutras
And chanting some old poems.
Suddenly a child appears and says,
"Come, let's go to the village together."
—Ryokan
________________________
At dusk
I often climb
To the peak of Kugami.
Deer bellow,
Their voices
Soaked up by
Piles of maple leaves
Lying undisturbed at
The foot of the mountain.
—Ryokan
______________________
A VISIT TO MR. FUJI'S VILLA
—Ryokan
It's several miles outside the town
And I walked there together with a woodsman
Along a meandering footpath through rows of verdant pines.
In the valley around us, sweet-smelling wild plum blossoms.
Every time I visit, I gain something new,
And there I feel truly at ease.
The fish in his pond are big as dragons,
And the surrounding forest is still the day long.
The inside of his home is full of treasures:
Volumes of books scattered about!
Inspired, I loosen my robe, browse through the books
And then compose my own verse.
At twilight I walk along the eastern corridor
Where I'm greeted again by a little flock of spring birds.
(Today's poems by Ryokan were translated from the Japanese by John Stevens.)
_______________________
—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 Wellingham-Jones, Tehama
For thirty years
they have sat together
as day fades into evening
Lifted glasses in toasts
smiled over triumphs
raged or wiped tears
over plans and people that sank
Today at his elbow
a cut-glass tumbler
filled with red wine
the color of hummingbird throats
diluted with water
and a trail of mucous down the side
In Alice’s hand
a crystal tumbler
of scotch over ice
barely watered
retaining the golden hue
of dried gorse and bracken
Wine abandoned
he dozes
head falls on chest
Alice wonders where wonderland went
picks up her novel
reads a chapter or two
Refills the glass of scotch
before heating dinner
_______________________
Thanks, PWJ, for this poignant poem. For the rest of you, send me any poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane Blue's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
_______________________
The year will be over soon,
But I'm still here in my little hut.
Cold autumn rain falls sadly,
And leaves pile up on the temple steps.
I pass time absent-mindedly reading sutras
And chanting some old poems.
Suddenly a child appears and says,
"Come, let's go to the village together."
—Ryokan
________________________
At dusk
I often climb
To the peak of Kugami.
Deer bellow,
Their voices
Soaked up by
Piles of maple leaves
Lying undisturbed at
The foot of the mountain.
—Ryokan
______________________
A VISIT TO MR. FUJI'S VILLA
—Ryokan
It's several miles outside the town
And I walked there together with a woodsman
Along a meandering footpath through rows of verdant pines.
In the valley around us, sweet-smelling wild plum blossoms.
Every time I visit, I gain something new,
And there I feel truly at ease.
The fish in his pond are big as dragons,
And the surrounding forest is still the day long.
The inside of his home is full of treasures:
Volumes of books scattered about!
Inspired, I loosen my robe, browse through the books
And then compose my own verse.
At twilight I walk along the eastern corridor
Where I'm greeted again by a little flock of spring birds.
(Today's poems by Ryokan were translated from the Japanese by John Stevens.)
_______________________
—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, November 11, 2006
A Cloud of Flame and Crimson
ANOMALY
—David Humphreys, Stockton
Feeling caught up in an irresistible process,
stick in a river torrent of substractions,
leaves surrender to a blast of wind.
Your descriptions, somewhere off beyond
the intentional place where you are most content
to fold your furrowed letter, feeling along the edge
of unanswerable questions, finding the middle
of illusory pages, shifting invisible paper held under
a pressuring palm, running a calloused finger down
crease and fold, one more time in half then into
the envelope, licking the glue and slamming it shut,
Gauguin, quite distant, tranquil and grinning on
the opposite shore as toothy combers roll over the
outer reef, Van Gogh's feverish brush strokes
cloaking a heart of swirling change.
_______________________
Thanks, David. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Manzanita correx:
The original publicity for the Manzanita reading today [see yesterday's post] said 4 PM; actually, it's 2 PM. That's quite a difference; take note.
For those of you who are following the Moving Saga:
Yesterday, we had an offer accepted on a house in Pollock Pines. 3151 Darby Lane, to be exact. A cedar "cabin" in the woods on the south side of Hwy. 50. We'll be moving sometime around Christmas; Medusa will probably shut down for a couple of weeks. Or not. We'll see.
And no, Sam the Snake Man and I are NOT getting a divorce. He's coming too, and has even found a new studio space up there. No commuting required. More space, more sunshine, less money. Yippee!
And no, Rattlesnake Pressssss is NOT going out of business; the Snake will have his very own nest away from the rest of the house. Most of our communication is done through e-mail, anyway. And I do intend to come down to Sac at least once a week. Business as usual.
_______________________
Green little gardens,
bright little squares,
verdigris fountain,
where water dreams,
where mute water
slips over stone!...
Leaves of faded
green, almost black,
of the acacias—the wind
of September has
stripped their flowers
and carried a few,
yellow and dry,
to play there in the white
dust of the earth.
Pretty girl,
filling your pitcher
with transparent water,
when you catch sight of me you don't
lift your brown hand
and arrange the black curls
of your hair
and admire yourself
in the limpid crystal...
You gaze into the air
of the beautiful evening
while the clear water
fills your pitcher.
—Antonio Machado
(translated from the Spanish by Richard Lewis)
________________________
FIGURES IN THE FIELD AGAINST THE SKY!
—Antonio Machado
Figures in the field against the sky!
Two slow oxen plowing
a knoll in early autumn:
between the black heads
bent below the heavy yoke
hangs a basket made of broom and reed—
a child's cradle.
Behind the team
a man plods, leaning toward the earth;
a woman
throws seed in open furrows.
Under a cloud of flame and crimson
in the green fluid gold of sunset,
these shadows grow gigantic.
(translated from the Spanish by Richard Lewis)
_______________________
—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.)
—David Humphreys, Stockton
Feeling caught up in an irresistible process,
stick in a river torrent of substractions,
leaves surrender to a blast of wind.
Your descriptions, somewhere off beyond
the intentional place where you are most content
to fold your furrowed letter, feeling along the edge
of unanswerable questions, finding the middle
of illusory pages, shifting invisible paper held under
a pressuring palm, running a calloused finger down
crease and fold, one more time in half then into
the envelope, licking the glue and slamming it shut,
Gauguin, quite distant, tranquil and grinning on
the opposite shore as toothy combers roll over the
outer reef, Van Gogh's feverish brush strokes
cloaking a heart of swirling change.
_______________________
Thanks, David. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Manzanita correx:
The original publicity for the Manzanita reading today [see yesterday's post] said 4 PM; actually, it's 2 PM. That's quite a difference; take note.
For those of you who are following the Moving Saga:
Yesterday, we had an offer accepted on a house in Pollock Pines. 3151 Darby Lane, to be exact. A cedar "cabin" in the woods on the south side of Hwy. 50. We'll be moving sometime around Christmas; Medusa will probably shut down for a couple of weeks. Or not. We'll see.
And no, Sam the Snake Man and I are NOT getting a divorce. He's coming too, and has even found a new studio space up there. No commuting required. More space, more sunshine, less money. Yippee!
And no, Rattlesnake Pressssss is NOT going out of business; the Snake will have his very own nest away from the rest of the house. Most of our communication is done through e-mail, anyway. And I do intend to come down to Sac at least once a week. Business as usual.
_______________________
Green little gardens,
bright little squares,
verdigris fountain,
where water dreams,
where mute water
slips over stone!...
Leaves of faded
green, almost black,
of the acacias—the wind
of September has
stripped their flowers
and carried a few,
yellow and dry,
to play there in the white
dust of the earth.
Pretty girl,
filling your pitcher
with transparent water,
when you catch sight of me you don't
lift your brown hand
and arrange the black curls
of your hair
and admire yourself
in the limpid crystal...
You gaze into the air
of the beautiful evening
while the clear water
fills your pitcher.
—Antonio Machado
(translated from the Spanish by Richard Lewis)
________________________
FIGURES IN THE FIELD AGAINST THE SKY!
—Antonio Machado
Figures in the field against the sky!
Two slow oxen plowing
a knoll in early autumn:
between the black heads
bent below the heavy yoke
hangs a basket made of broom and reed—
a child's cradle.
Behind the team
a man plods, leaning toward the earth;
a woman
throws seed in open furrows.
Under a cloud of flame and crimson
in the green fluid gold of sunset,
these shadows grow gigantic.
(translated from the Spanish by Richard Lewis)
_______________________
—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, November 10, 2006
Like a Distillate of Minutes
LOOKING THROUGH GLASS
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
A landscape with a dozen crows
outside the window where he’ll wait
for breakfast – it’s just one of those
old changeless Mondays. Soon or late
the cook will come, unlatch the gate.
A landscape with a dozen crows
will rise up, settle. There’s a crate
of tubers and a shriveled rose
set down beside a garden hose,
one rock dove mourning for its mate.
The landscape with a dozen crows
has changed by just a feather’s weight,
as change comes like a distillate
of minutes unobserved. Suppose
his window view looks out on fate,
this landscape with a dozen crows.
_______________________
Thanks, TG, for the "change" poem. (I'm a sucker for poems about crows.) Taylor Graham is first out of the box to respond to the current give-away, and a copy of Jane Blue's new rattlechap is winging its way toward her. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Ginsberg photo exhibit:
Rattlechapper Victoria Dalkey, Art Reviewer for The Sacramento Bee, has a review in today's Ticket section of the current exhibit of Allen Ginsberg's photographs at the Crocker Art Museum. Check it out—both the review and the exhibit: Allen Ginsberg: Beat Generation Photographer. That's at the Crocker, 216 O St., Sac., 10 AM-5 PM Tues.-Sun, open Thursday evenings 'til 9 PM. Exhibit goes through Jan. 7 (closed Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, New Year's Day). Tickets $3-$6. Info: 916-264-5423 or www.crockerartmuseum.org.
Warm up yer flivver; it's a busy weekend!
•••Sat. (11/11), 4 PM: Manzanita writers and friends of Manzanita writers (all editions) are invited to read their work at Hein & Co. book store in Jackson, located off of Hwy 49 in downtown Jackson on Main Street. (It's across from the cooking store.) Hein & Co. is one of the treasures of the Mother Lode. A great bookstore! Manzanita Editor Monika Rose says: bring your books and maybe Wolf will sell them for you on consignment. Info: 209-754-0577 (Monika) or 209-223-9076 (Wolf Hein).
•••Sacramento Poet and Rattlechapper Susan Kelly-DeWitt and her son, Michael Kelly-DeWitt, will have their art in a one-night show coming up this Saturday, November 11. The show will be held at Acacia Hall, 2354 Forrest, Sac. (at the corner of Forrest and Del Paso Boulevard) from 5-8 PM.
•••Also Saturday (11/11), 3-5 PM: Patricity's In Spirit & Truth Series features Big Eazi E (Born 2 B Poet) and poetess-singer Mouthpiece, plus open mic. Note new location: 61 Yuence Smoked BBQ & Grill, 9657 Folsom Blvd., Sac. (off Bradshaw). Free. Info: 916-361-2014.
•••Also Saturday, 8 PM: Poems-For-All Second Saturday Series presents Stephen Kessler at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Stephen Kessler is a poet, prose writer, translator and editor whose most recent books include Written in Water: The Prose Poems of Luis Cernuda (translation, City Lights), winner of 2004 Lambda Literary Award; Tell It to the Rabbis and After Modigliani (poems, Creative Arts); Save Twilight: Selected Poems of Julio Cortazar (translation, City Lights); Aphorisms by César Vallejo (translation, Green Integer); and major contributions to The Essential Neruda (City Lights) and the Selected Poems of Jorge Luis Borges (Penguin). His essays, criticism and journalism have appeared widely in the independent and alternative press of Northern California, especially Poetry Flash, where he is a contributing editor. He is also the editor of The Redwood Coast Review. Free. Info: 916-442-9295.
•••Also Saturday, 10 AM-4 PM: Writers’ Forum is proud to present the 3rd Annual Northern California Authors Fair, “A Salute to Veterans”, at the Mount Shasta Mall in Redding. Published authors in Northern California and the public are invited to this free event. Meet authors. Talk about writing. Books will be available for sale and author-signings. Enter the free Opening Sentence Writing Contest (four age categories, children to seniors; prizes for 1st Place Winners). Last year, over 50 authors participated in the Fair, covering many genres. Info: 530-241-1045 or visit online at www.writers-forum.net
•••Also Saturday, 2 PM: Reading from the poetry quarterly, Song of the San Joaquin, in the McHenry Museum, 1402 "I" Street, Modesto. Poets will read their own work. Light refreshments will be served. Song of the San Joaquin is published by the Poets of the San Joaquin, a Modesto-based chapter of the California Federation of Chaparral Poets, Inc. Info: Cleo Griffith, 209-543-1776, cleor36@yahoo.com.
•••Sunday (11/12), 4-6 PM: Donald Sydney-Fryer will be performing from Clark Ashton Smith's Four Fables. The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Free.
•••Also Sunday (11/12), 3 PM: Cleo Fellers Kocol will be the featured reader the Lincoln Poets reading at McBean Perk, a coffee house in Lincoln at McBean Park Drive and A Street (427 A Street with a parking lot off A Street). Open mic to follow. Cleo is the poet featured in the current littlesnake broadside, Connections. Pick one up free at The Book Collector—or go to the reading; I'll betcha can get one from her—or SASE me and I'll send you one.
•••Also Sunday, 2:30-4:30 PM: Poets on the Ridge in Paradise, CA will hold their monthly open mic at Juice & Java, 7067 Skyway, Paradise. Info: 530-872-9633. Free; all ages are welcome to come read their poems.
•••Also Sunday, 7 PM: Poet's Corner in Stockton presents devin davis at Barnes & Noble in Weberstown Mall, Pacific Avenue and March Lane, Stockton.
•••And next Monday (11/13), Sacramento Poetry Center Board Members will be reading their own poetry; go to the monthly Board meeting with them at 5:45 PM at HQ, 25th & R Sts., Sac, and then stay for the reading at its special time, 7 PM. Bring your own poems to read, too. Oh, and word on the street is to bring along some wine and chocolate, just in case...
_______________________
Some more change poems:
ECLIPSE OF THE SUN
—Archilochus
Nothing will surprise me any more, nor be too wonderful
for belief, now that the lord upon Olympus, father Zeus,
dimmed the daylight and made darkness come upon us in the noon
and the sunshine. So limp terror has descended on mankind.
After this, men can believe in anything. They can expect
anything. Be not astonished any more, although you see
beasts of the dry land exchange with dolphins, and assume their place
in the watery pastures of the sea, and beasts who loved the hills
find the ocean's crashing waters sweeter than the bulk of land.
_______________________
SYMPTOM RECITAL
—Dorothy Parker
I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men...
I'm due to fall in love again.
_______________________
EVERYTHING CHANGES
—Bertold Brecht
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
What has happened has happened. The water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again, but
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
_______________________
—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.)
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
A landscape with a dozen crows
outside the window where he’ll wait
for breakfast – it’s just one of those
old changeless Mondays. Soon or late
the cook will come, unlatch the gate.
A landscape with a dozen crows
will rise up, settle. There’s a crate
of tubers and a shriveled rose
set down beside a garden hose,
one rock dove mourning for its mate.
The landscape with a dozen crows
has changed by just a feather’s weight,
as change comes like a distillate
of minutes unobserved. Suppose
his window view looks out on fate,
this landscape with a dozen crows.
_______________________
Thanks, TG, for the "change" poem. (I'm a sucker for poems about crows.) Taylor Graham is first out of the box to respond to the current give-away, and a copy of Jane Blue's new rattlechap is winging its way toward her. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review (deadline is next Wednesday!); just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Ginsberg photo exhibit:
Rattlechapper Victoria Dalkey, Art Reviewer for The Sacramento Bee, has a review in today's Ticket section of the current exhibit of Allen Ginsberg's photographs at the Crocker Art Museum. Check it out—both the review and the exhibit: Allen Ginsberg: Beat Generation Photographer. That's at the Crocker, 216 O St., Sac., 10 AM-5 PM Tues.-Sun, open Thursday evenings 'til 9 PM. Exhibit goes through Jan. 7 (closed Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, New Year's Day). Tickets $3-$6. Info: 916-264-5423 or www.crockerartmuseum.org.
Warm up yer flivver; it's a busy weekend!
•••Sat. (11/11), 4 PM: Manzanita writers and friends of Manzanita writers (all editions) are invited to read their work at Hein & Co. book store in Jackson, located off of Hwy 49 in downtown Jackson on Main Street. (It's across from the cooking store.) Hein & Co. is one of the treasures of the Mother Lode. A great bookstore! Manzanita Editor Monika Rose says: bring your books and maybe Wolf will sell them for you on consignment. Info: 209-754-0577 (Monika) or 209-223-9076 (Wolf Hein).
•••Sacramento Poet and Rattlechapper Susan Kelly-DeWitt and her son, Michael Kelly-DeWitt, will have their art in a one-night show coming up this Saturday, November 11. The show will be held at Acacia Hall, 2354 Forrest, Sac. (at the corner of Forrest and Del Paso Boulevard) from 5-8 PM.
•••Also Saturday (11/11), 3-5 PM: Patricity's In Spirit & Truth Series features Big Eazi E (Born 2 B Poet) and poetess-singer Mouthpiece, plus open mic. Note new location: 61 Yuence Smoked BBQ & Grill, 9657 Folsom Blvd., Sac. (off Bradshaw). Free. Info: 916-361-2014.
•••Also Saturday, 8 PM: Poems-For-All Second Saturday Series presents Stephen Kessler at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Stephen Kessler is a poet, prose writer, translator and editor whose most recent books include Written in Water: The Prose Poems of Luis Cernuda (translation, City Lights), winner of 2004 Lambda Literary Award; Tell It to the Rabbis and After Modigliani (poems, Creative Arts); Save Twilight: Selected Poems of Julio Cortazar (translation, City Lights); Aphorisms by César Vallejo (translation, Green Integer); and major contributions to The Essential Neruda (City Lights) and the Selected Poems of Jorge Luis Borges (Penguin). His essays, criticism and journalism have appeared widely in the independent and alternative press of Northern California, especially Poetry Flash, where he is a contributing editor. He is also the editor of The Redwood Coast Review. Free. Info: 916-442-9295.
•••Also Saturday, 10 AM-4 PM: Writers’ Forum is proud to present the 3rd Annual Northern California Authors Fair, “A Salute to Veterans”, at the Mount Shasta Mall in Redding. Published authors in Northern California and the public are invited to this free event. Meet authors. Talk about writing. Books will be available for sale and author-signings. Enter the free Opening Sentence Writing Contest (four age categories, children to seniors; prizes for 1st Place Winners). Last year, over 50 authors participated in the Fair, covering many genres. Info: 530-241-1045 or visit online at www.writers-forum.net
•••Also Saturday, 2 PM: Reading from the poetry quarterly, Song of the San Joaquin, in the McHenry Museum, 1402 "I" Street, Modesto. Poets will read their own work. Light refreshments will be served. Song of the San Joaquin is published by the Poets of the San Joaquin, a Modesto-based chapter of the California Federation of Chaparral Poets, Inc. Info: Cleo Griffith, 209-543-1776, cleor36@yahoo.com.
•••Sunday (11/12), 4-6 PM: Donald Sydney-Fryer will be performing from Clark Ashton Smith's Four Fables. The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Free.
•••Also Sunday (11/12), 3 PM: Cleo Fellers Kocol will be the featured reader the Lincoln Poets reading at McBean Perk, a coffee house in Lincoln at McBean Park Drive and A Street (427 A Street with a parking lot off A Street). Open mic to follow. Cleo is the poet featured in the current littlesnake broadside, Connections. Pick one up free at The Book Collector—or go to the reading; I'll betcha can get one from her—or SASE me and I'll send you one.
•••Also Sunday, 2:30-4:30 PM: Poets on the Ridge in Paradise, CA will hold their monthly open mic at Juice & Java, 7067 Skyway, Paradise. Info: 530-872-9633. Free; all ages are welcome to come read their poems.
•••Also Sunday, 7 PM: Poet's Corner in Stockton presents devin davis at Barnes & Noble in Weberstown Mall, Pacific Avenue and March Lane, Stockton.
•••And next Monday (11/13), Sacramento Poetry Center Board Members will be reading their own poetry; go to the monthly Board meeting with them at 5:45 PM at HQ, 25th & R Sts., Sac, and then stay for the reading at its special time, 7 PM. Bring your own poems to read, too. Oh, and word on the street is to bring along some wine and chocolate, just in case...
_______________________
Some more change poems:
ECLIPSE OF THE SUN
—Archilochus
Nothing will surprise me any more, nor be too wonderful
for belief, now that the lord upon Olympus, father Zeus,
dimmed the daylight and made darkness come upon us in the noon
and the sunshine. So limp terror has descended on mankind.
After this, men can believe in anything. They can expect
anything. Be not astonished any more, although you see
beasts of the dry land exchange with dolphins, and assume their place
in the watery pastures of the sea, and beasts who loved the hills
find the ocean's crashing waters sweeter than the bulk of land.
_______________________
SYMPTOM RECITAL
—Dorothy Parker
I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men...
I'm due to fall in love again.
_______________________
EVERYTHING CHANGES
—Bertold Brecht
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
What has happened has happened. The water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again, but
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
_______________________
—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, November 09, 2006
Change
LAST BEFORE WINTER
—Wayne Robinson, Lodi
The huge harvest moon rises orange over dead grass
The tangy smell of tar weed in the morning wetness.
Dove hunting the first week of September, wasting shot
On helpless flyers. Missing many more than I got.
Winter is coming, I can smell it, feel the mornings changing
Waking to the grape harvesters outside, too early in the morning.
Hoping to get in more bicycle miles before the rains fall
And the wife puts the horses away in their stall.
Now the leaves are just turning, still some green
The birds are flocking but they will not sing.
The weather is between a cooler and a heater
Maybe the power bill will drop at the meter.
Wouldn't that be nice? Save a few cents for now.
I missed summer, worked right through it anyhow.
I only remember a few hot days and smelly tee shirts
From sweat falling off me while I shoveled the dirt.
This fall will come and go too, but I will remember Christmas
Kids laughing, complaining because this year they got less.
But now the dusty sunset is as pretty as in a romantic movie
Mom and kids on horseback, me on the bike, everyone is happy.
_______________________
Thanks, Wayne! Wayne Robinson says he's putting together his poems to send to Rattlesnake Review; he promises to make the November 15 (that's next Wednesday!) deadline. Send 3-5 poems (no cover letter/bio/simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 or kathykieth@hotmail.com. Send photos, art, droodles too (remember droodles?). Feasts for the eye and ear. And hey—a couple of requests: please include a snail address somewhere on your submission, and please don't send just one poem unless that's REALLY REALLY REALLY all you have. Editors like choices.
Also new from Rattlesnake Press:
•••Turf Daisies and Dandelions, a rattlechap from Jane Blue;
•••Connections, the latest littlesnake broadside, from Cleo Fellers Kocol;
•••The latest Snakelets, a journal of poetry from kids 0-12.
All of these new publications are available today at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Or contact me and I'll arrange for you to get them into your hot little hands one way or another.
Time for another give-away:
Every place I look right now I see change: the season is changing, the political climate is changing, and as I've tediously mentioned over and over in the past, the Kieths are moving—which is mucho change. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane Blue's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review; just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Tonight:
•••Thursday (11/9), 8 PM: Vibe Sessions at Cobbler Inn, 3520 Stockton Blvd., Sac. (next to Colonial Theater). Hosted by Flo Real, $5.
•••Also tonight, 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged presents Andy Jones and special guests. Open mic before/after. Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. Free. Info: 916-441-3931.
_______________________
THE DOUBLE IMAGE
—Anne Sexton
I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
flapping in the winter rain,
falling flat and washed. And I remember
mostly the three autumns you did not live here.
They said I'd never get you back again.
I tell you what you'll never really know:
all the medical hypothesis
that explained my brain will never be as true as these
struck leaves letting go.
I, who chose two times
to kill myself, had said your nickname
the mewling mouths when you first came;
until a fever rattled
in your throat and I moved like a pantomime
above your head. Ugly angels spoke to me. The blame,
I heard them say, was mine. They tattled
like green witches in my head, letting doom
leak like a broken faucet;
as if doom had flooded my belly and filled your bassinet,
an old debt I must assume...
_______________________
Anne Sexton would've been 78 years old today.
2. THE DY-DEE DOLL
—Anne Sexton
My Dy-dee doll
died twice.
Once when I snapped
her head off
and let it float in the toilet
and once under the sun lamp
trying to get warm
she melted.
She was a gloom,
her face embracing
her little bent arms.
She died in all her rubber wisdom.
________________________
HER KIND
—Anne Sexton
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
_______________________
—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.)
—Wayne Robinson, Lodi
The huge harvest moon rises orange over dead grass
The tangy smell of tar weed in the morning wetness.
Dove hunting the first week of September, wasting shot
On helpless flyers. Missing many more than I got.
Winter is coming, I can smell it, feel the mornings changing
Waking to the grape harvesters outside, too early in the morning.
Hoping to get in more bicycle miles before the rains fall
And the wife puts the horses away in their stall.
Now the leaves are just turning, still some green
The birds are flocking but they will not sing.
The weather is between a cooler and a heater
Maybe the power bill will drop at the meter.
Wouldn't that be nice? Save a few cents for now.
I missed summer, worked right through it anyhow.
I only remember a few hot days and smelly tee shirts
From sweat falling off me while I shoveled the dirt.
This fall will come and go too, but I will remember Christmas
Kids laughing, complaining because this year they got less.
But now the dusty sunset is as pretty as in a romantic movie
Mom and kids on horseback, me on the bike, everyone is happy.
_______________________
Thanks, Wayne! Wayne Robinson says he's putting together his poems to send to Rattlesnake Review; he promises to make the November 15 (that's next Wednesday!) deadline. Send 3-5 poems (no cover letter/bio/simultaneous submissions or previously-published poems) to P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 or kathykieth@hotmail.com. Send photos, art, droodles too (remember droodles?). Feasts for the eye and ear. And hey—a couple of requests: please include a snail address somewhere on your submission, and please don't send just one poem unless that's REALLY REALLY REALLY all you have. Editors like choices.
Also new from Rattlesnake Press:
•••Turf Daisies and Dandelions, a rattlechap from Jane Blue;
•••Connections, the latest littlesnake broadside, from Cleo Fellers Kocol;
•••The latest Snakelets, a journal of poetry from kids 0-12.
All of these new publications are available today at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Or contact me and I'll arrange for you to get them into your hot little hands one way or another.
Time for another give-away:
Every place I look right now I see change: the season is changing, the political climate is changing, and as I've tediously mentioned over and over in the past, the Kieths are moving—which is mucho change. Send me a poem about change (seasons, moving, or otherwise) and I'll send you Jane Blue's wonderful new chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Or Sharyn Stever's equally-wonderful chap, Heron's Run. Or something else, if you have those two. Send your change poem to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 1647, Orangevale, CA 95662 by midnight next Tuesday, November 14. Or send it in a bunch with your submission for Rattlesnake Review; just mark which is which. All "change" poems you send will be posted on Medusa.
Tonight:
•••Thursday (11/9), 8 PM: Vibe Sessions at Cobbler Inn, 3520 Stockton Blvd., Sac. (next to Colonial Theater). Hosted by Flo Real, $5.
•••Also tonight, 8 PM: Poetry Unplugged presents Andy Jones and special guests. Open mic before/after. Luna's Cafe, 1414 16th St., Sac. Free. Info: 916-441-3931.
_______________________
THE DOUBLE IMAGE
—Anne Sexton
I am thirty this November.
You are still small, in your fourth year.
We stand watching the yellow leaves go queer,
flapping in the winter rain,
falling flat and washed. And I remember
mostly the three autumns you did not live here.
They said I'd never get you back again.
I tell you what you'll never really know:
all the medical hypothesis
that explained my brain will never be as true as these
struck leaves letting go.
I, who chose two times
to kill myself, had said your nickname
the mewling mouths when you first came;
until a fever rattled
in your throat and I moved like a pantomime
above your head. Ugly angels spoke to me. The blame,
I heard them say, was mine. They tattled
like green witches in my head, letting doom
leak like a broken faucet;
as if doom had flooded my belly and filled your bassinet,
an old debt I must assume...
_______________________
Anne Sexton would've been 78 years old today.
2. THE DY-DEE DOLL
—Anne Sexton
My Dy-dee doll
died twice.
Once when I snapped
her head off
and let it float in the toilet
and once under the sun lamp
trying to get warm
she melted.
She was a gloom,
her face embracing
her little bent arms.
She died in all her rubber wisdom.
________________________
HER KIND
—Anne Sexton
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
_______________________
—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, November 08, 2006
The Shock of Minor Changes
Taylor Graham writes: Loved Homer Christensen's poem [see yesterday's post]. It got me going, writing that is. Medusa may be up to the gorge in election and not even want to think about it [today], but she can have this one if she wants:
AFTER ELECTION
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
I stood in line early
to cast my hopes into an eyeless box.
Back home, in the field we keep trying
to reclaim from thicket, I pull up
manzanita sprouts, one after another,
toss them in a pile for burning.
I’ll do this again in two
years, four years, six. They always
come back—the same shoots or new
ones from an old bad root.
In our field, November is greening
the annual grasses. I can hope.
_______________________
Thanks, TG! At least the ads will be over, now...
Tonight:
•••Weds. (11/8), 7:30 PM: Rattlesnake Press presents Jane Blue at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento to celebrate the release of her new poetry chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Also premiering that night will be a littlesnake broadside, Connections, from Cleo Fellers Kocol. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else's. Be there!
•••Also tonight, 10-midnight: After the rattle-read, head over to Mics and Moods at Capitol Garage, 1500 K St., Sac. Info: 916-492-9336.
•••Also tonight (11/8), 8 PM: Or bag it all and go over to Davis: The Second Wednesday Reading Series of the MA program at UC-Davis presents the poetry and fiction of writers Michael Clearwater and Reema Rajbanshi. Café Roma (3rd & University Sts., downtown Davis).
Poets Lane News from Cynthia Bryant:
A short update on The Gift of Words: Poems for the Iraqi People:
I have received poetry from fifteen of our fifty United States, one from a soldier in Iraq, one poet from Nigeria, Africa, and over 100 poets altogether. I have gotten poems from eight-year-old poets and poets in their eighties. The numbers grow every day and the poems get better every day. So send in your poem, and please don't forget to include your name/email, city, state, country (and age if you like). Send poems to: Gift of Words, c/o Cynthia Bryant, Poet Laureate of Pleasanton, PO Box 520, Pleasanton, CA 94566 or PoetsLane@comcast.net.
The deadline for the poems has been changed to May 2007, but the potluck/reading will be held on Sunday, December 3, 1-4 PM at Century House, 2401 Santa Rita Rd. (between Mohr and Stoneridge), Pleasanton. $5. Special guests, entertainment and Iraqi music will fill the afternoon along with the heartfelt poems written for the Iraqi People that will be read by local poets and in some cases by the poet who wrote the poem. Please bring your favorite food to share, and one wrapped (no Christmas wrapping, please) book of poetry, used or new to exchange in a special gift-giving event. There will be wonderful door prizes to be won as well. Beverages, eating utensils, napkins, plates and cups will all be provided.
Also: Poet’s Lane needs your poems for November! Anyone, any age, anywhere may submit poetry to PoetsLane@comcast.net for www.poetslane.com. The themes are Freedom, War and Giving Thanks. Send your poems to Cynthia at PoetsLane@comcast.net.
________________________
FASCICLE
—A.R. Ammons
There's a rift of days sunny (not too windy, not
too cold) between leaf- and snowfall when
raking works: away on a weekend, you could
miss it and rain could sog everything slick-flat
or gusts could leave no leaf not lifting
off the ground: stick
around the house, a big sheet ready, a strong-caned
rake strung tight, and catch the sun
just when it stills the air dry: that's likely
to be before some cold front frost-furring
the saw-edged leaves glistened brittle, clouds
tightening the horizon: then the white leaves fly.
_______________________
FIRST COLD
—A.R. Ammons
Well, the white asters
are wide open (there's
even a chicory
blossom ot two
left on a big weed)
but it's too cold
for the bees to come:
every now and then
a snowflake
streaks
out of the hanging gray,
winter's first whitening:
white on white let it be,
then, flake
to petal—to hold for a
minute or so: meanwhile,
golden bees are milling at
the door, to pour
out should that other
gold, the sun, break in.
_________________________
SENTIMENT
—A.R. Ammons
All things that live die but even
rivers dry up or roll
out of their beds and rising lands
sometimes remove seas and ranges
snow tops all year wear down eventually:
the earth, of course, itself came
into being and must in time be cindered:
think of the shock, though, meanwhile,
of the minor changes, a friend in an
accident, being late to your son's
soccer match, a leaning tree in a
yard an old house has moved away from.
_______________________
—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.)
AFTER ELECTION
—Taylor Graham, Somerset
I stood in line early
to cast my hopes into an eyeless box.
Back home, in the field we keep trying
to reclaim from thicket, I pull up
manzanita sprouts, one after another,
toss them in a pile for burning.
I’ll do this again in two
years, four years, six. They always
come back—the same shoots or new
ones from an old bad root.
In our field, November is greening
the annual grasses. I can hope.
_______________________
Thanks, TG! At least the ads will be over, now...
Tonight:
•••Weds. (11/8), 7:30 PM: Rattlesnake Press presents Jane Blue at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sacramento to celebrate the release of her new poetry chapbook, Turf Daisies and Dandelions. Also premiering that night will be a littlesnake broadside, Connections, from Cleo Fellers Kocol. Refreshments and a read-around will follow; bring your own poems or somebody else's. Be there!
•••Also tonight, 10-midnight: After the rattle-read, head over to Mics and Moods at Capitol Garage, 1500 K St., Sac. Info: 916-492-9336.
•••Also tonight (11/8), 8 PM: Or bag it all and go over to Davis: The Second Wednesday Reading Series of the MA program at UC-Davis presents the poetry and fiction of writers Michael Clearwater and Reema Rajbanshi. Café Roma (3rd & University Sts., downtown Davis).
Poets Lane News from Cynthia Bryant:
A short update on The Gift of Words: Poems for the Iraqi People:
I have received poetry from fifteen of our fifty United States, one from a soldier in Iraq, one poet from Nigeria, Africa, and over 100 poets altogether. I have gotten poems from eight-year-old poets and poets in their eighties. The numbers grow every day and the poems get better every day. So send in your poem, and please don't forget to include your name/email, city, state, country (and age if you like). Send poems to: Gift of Words, c/o Cynthia Bryant, Poet Laureate of Pleasanton, PO Box 520, Pleasanton, CA 94566 or PoetsLane@comcast.net.
The deadline for the poems has been changed to May 2007, but the potluck/reading will be held on Sunday, December 3, 1-4 PM at Century House, 2401 Santa Rita Rd. (between Mohr and Stoneridge), Pleasanton. $5. Special guests, entertainment and Iraqi music will fill the afternoon along with the heartfelt poems written for the Iraqi People that will be read by local poets and in some cases by the poet who wrote the poem. Please bring your favorite food to share, and one wrapped (no Christmas wrapping, please) book of poetry, used or new to exchange in a special gift-giving event. There will be wonderful door prizes to be won as well. Beverages, eating utensils, napkins, plates and cups will all be provided.
Also: Poet’s Lane needs your poems for November! Anyone, any age, anywhere may submit poetry to PoetsLane@comcast.net for www.poetslane.com. The themes are Freedom, War and Giving Thanks. Send your poems to Cynthia at PoetsLane@comcast.net.
________________________
FASCICLE
—A.R. Ammons
There's a rift of days sunny (not too windy, not
too cold) between leaf- and snowfall when
raking works: away on a weekend, you could
miss it and rain could sog everything slick-flat
or gusts could leave no leaf not lifting
off the ground: stick
around the house, a big sheet ready, a strong-caned
rake strung tight, and catch the sun
just when it stills the air dry: that's likely
to be before some cold front frost-furring
the saw-edged leaves glistened brittle, clouds
tightening the horizon: then the white leaves fly.
_______________________
FIRST COLD
—A.R. Ammons
Well, the white asters
are wide open (there's
even a chicory
blossom ot two
left on a big weed)
but it's too cold
for the bees to come:
every now and then
a snowflake
streaks
out of the hanging gray,
winter's first whitening:
white on white let it be,
then, flake
to petal—to hold for a
minute or so: meanwhile,
golden bees are milling at
the door, to pour
out should that other
gold, the sun, break in.
_________________________
SENTIMENT
—A.R. Ammons
All things that live die but even
rivers dry up or roll
out of their beds and rising lands
sometimes remove seas and ranges
snow tops all year wear down eventually:
the earth, of course, itself came
into being and must in time be cindered:
think of the shock, though, meanwhile,
of the minor changes, a friend in an
accident, being late to your son's
soccer match, a leaning tree in a
yard an old house has moved away from.
_______________________
—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, November 07, 2006
Throw the Bums Out!
POLITICIANS IN MY FRIDGE
—Homer Christensen, Folsom
I look around in the dim light for something new
(Actually, I’ll settle for anything edible,
but I still hold out hope).
“Oh, shoot, has this gone bad?
And this? It cost a fortune...”
Things smell bad under a downy cover,
and I muck about, rearrange,
and shut the door in disgust.
I don’t have the courage to throw anything out.
_______________________
Thanks, Homer, for the Election Day poem! Don't forget to vote! :-)
Speaking of throwing things out, the Moving Experience triggers all sorts of poetry:
MOVING UNDER THE BLANKET
—Kathy Kieth, Fair Oaks
We bought an anaconda
of a quilt: moving house
has us startled: we are
being dismantled
box by box: replaced by
the generic—new art, new walls,
new bedding: a stiff sky-blue
monster-quilt that is not yet
broken in: huge, down-filled
explosion of a blue anaconda
that swallows us every night
as we try to move our legs:
try to get our bearings:
try to get away…
_______________________
Pat Pashby replies:
A MOVING MOMENT
—Patricia A. Pashby, Sacramento
She cries—
never again
will I do this for you—
sorting, packing, tossing treasures.
He smiles.
Thanks, Pat! Look for Patricia Pashby's littlesnake broadside, Potpourri, at The Book Collector—or SASE me and I'll send you one.
_______________________
Calendar Updates:
Some additions to this week's calendar:
•••Wednesday (11/8), 8 PM: The Second Wednesday Reading Series of the MA program at UC-Davis presents the poetry and fiction of writers Michael Clearwater and Reema Rajbanshi. Café Roma (3rd & University Sts., downtown Davis).
•••Sat. (11/11), 4 PM: Manzanita writers and friends of Manzanita writers (all editions) are invited to read their work at Hein & Co. book store in Jackson, located off of Hwy 49 in downtown Jackson on Main Street. (It's across from the cooking store.) Hein & Co. is one of the treasures of the Mother Lode. A great bookstore! Manzanita Editor Monika Rose says: bring your books and maybe Wolf will sell them for you on consignment. Info: 209-754-0577 (Monika) or 209-223-9076 (Wolf Hein).
•••Sacramento Poet and Rattlechapper Susan Kelly-DeWitt and her son, Michael Kelly-DeWitt, will have their art in a one-night show coming up Saturday, November 11. The show will be held at Acacia Hall, 2354 Forrest, Sac. (at the corner of Forrest and Del Paso Boulevard) from 5-8 PM.
Calendar Correx:
Yesterday I said that Clark Ashton Smith would be performing at The Book Collector on Sunday (11/12), 4-6 PM; clearly, this is impossible, since he's dead. Instead, it is Donald Sydney-Fryer who will be performing from Clark Ashton Smith's Four Fables. The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Free.
More disturbing is the confusion about the Bistro 33 reading in Davis. I received a note from Somebody saying it was happening this week (tonight), and Poetry Now has it listed as tonight, also. But Rae Gourirand sent out an e-mail saying it was next week; I wrote to her, and she claims she double-checked it, and that it is, indeed, happening on the 14th (NEXT Tuesday). The host is Andy Jones: aojones@ucdavis.edu. I recommend you go straight to him...
So what's up with the Snake?
Today you should have the November Snakebytes (Late-bytes, this month) in your e-mail box. In it, you will note:
•••Reading tomorrow night at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac.: Jane Blue (Turf Daisies and Dandelions), with a littlesnake broadside (Connections) from Cleo Fellers Kocol. 7:30 PM.
•••Also premiering tomorrow: the latest Snakelets, the free journal of poetry from youngsters ages 0-12. Next deadline is February 1.
•••Coming later in November: the latest issue of VYPER, the free poetry journal from young people ages 13-19.
•••December's releases will be Spiralchap #6: Poems in Two Voices from Joe and Susan Finkleman (two-voice poetry by the two of them, plus art from Joe), and littlesnake broadside #29 from Sacramento Poetry Center President Bob Stanley. Wednesday, December 13 will be the official release/reading date for these authors.
•••And the next deadline for the free poetry journal from adults, Rattlesnake Review (#12—an even dozen!) is coming up SOON—it's Wednesday, November 15. Send 3-5 poems, name and address, e-mail preferred, no bio/cover letter/previously-pubbed/simultaneous submits. Send art, too, and photos and doodles, and reviews—especially mini-reviews of books and workshops and events (maybe you want to query first on those, though...).
•••And the ever-PMS-ing Medusa is always hungry; the daily blog has a ravenous appetite for poetry, Nor-Cal and otherwise. Lately I've been lax on the photo/drawing posts, but I bet I could remember how, if you sent me one...
By the way, if you're not receiving the monthly Snakebytes e-mail and would like to, e-mail me at kathykieth@hotmail.com.
_______________________
October has passed, but here's a Fall poem from David Humphreys, whose Poets Corner reading series in Stockton will present devin davis this Sunday (11/12) at the Barnes & Noble in Weberstown Mall, 7 PM:
THE FIREMAN'S WIFE AND ERNEST HEMINGWAY
—David Humphreys, Stockton
October is everyone’s favorite month
with temperatures in the seventies,
not too hot or too cold.
Went to Fort Bragg over the weekend,
our girls' soccer team had a tournament.
Won two games on Saturday.
Saturday night went to the beach
and did a bonfire with marshmallows,
a beautiful happy bunch of kids.
Parents are great too, love soccer, watching
their kids play well, everything about it.
They hate it when we lose.
Sunday morning we won the first game,
two to zero. That got us into the final.
The other team got a goal in
the first half. One of our girls had a shot
hit the cross bar but it didn’t go in. They
played very hard but in the end
the other team won it one-zero. Too bad,
maybe next time. It was a long drive home
through the dark forest past the moonlit lake.
Don’t think we forgot anything.
________________________
—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.)
—Homer Christensen, Folsom
I look around in the dim light for something new
(Actually, I’ll settle for anything edible,
but I still hold out hope).
“Oh, shoot, has this gone bad?
And this? It cost a fortune...”
Things smell bad under a downy cover,
and I muck about, rearrange,
and shut the door in disgust.
I don’t have the courage to throw anything out.
_______________________
Thanks, Homer, for the Election Day poem! Don't forget to vote! :-)
Speaking of throwing things out, the Moving Experience triggers all sorts of poetry:
MOVING UNDER THE BLANKET
—Kathy Kieth, Fair Oaks
We bought an anaconda
of a quilt: moving house
has us startled: we are
being dismantled
box by box: replaced by
the generic—new art, new walls,
new bedding: a stiff sky-blue
monster-quilt that is not yet
broken in: huge, down-filled
explosion of a blue anaconda
that swallows us every night
as we try to move our legs:
try to get our bearings:
try to get away…
_______________________
Pat Pashby replies:
A MOVING MOMENT
—Patricia A. Pashby, Sacramento
She cries—
never again
will I do this for you—
sorting, packing, tossing treasures.
He smiles.
Thanks, Pat! Look for Patricia Pashby's littlesnake broadside, Potpourri, at The Book Collector—or SASE me and I'll send you one.
_______________________
Calendar Updates:
Some additions to this week's calendar:
•••Wednesday (11/8), 8 PM: The Second Wednesday Reading Series of the MA program at UC-Davis presents the poetry and fiction of writers Michael Clearwater and Reema Rajbanshi. Café Roma (3rd & University Sts., downtown Davis).
•••Sat. (11/11), 4 PM: Manzanita writers and friends of Manzanita writers (all editions) are invited to read their work at Hein & Co. book store in Jackson, located off of Hwy 49 in downtown Jackson on Main Street. (It's across from the cooking store.) Hein & Co. is one of the treasures of the Mother Lode. A great bookstore! Manzanita Editor Monika Rose says: bring your books and maybe Wolf will sell them for you on consignment. Info: 209-754-0577 (Monika) or 209-223-9076 (Wolf Hein).
•••Sacramento Poet and Rattlechapper Susan Kelly-DeWitt and her son, Michael Kelly-DeWitt, will have their art in a one-night show coming up Saturday, November 11. The show will be held at Acacia Hall, 2354 Forrest, Sac. (at the corner of Forrest and Del Paso Boulevard) from 5-8 PM.
Calendar Correx:
Yesterday I said that Clark Ashton Smith would be performing at The Book Collector on Sunday (11/12), 4-6 PM; clearly, this is impossible, since he's dead. Instead, it is Donald Sydney-Fryer who will be performing from Clark Ashton Smith's Four Fables. The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac. Free.
More disturbing is the confusion about the Bistro 33 reading in Davis. I received a note from Somebody saying it was happening this week (tonight), and Poetry Now has it listed as tonight, also. But Rae Gourirand sent out an e-mail saying it was next week; I wrote to her, and she claims she double-checked it, and that it is, indeed, happening on the 14th (NEXT Tuesday). The host is Andy Jones: aojones@ucdavis.edu. I recommend you go straight to him...
So what's up with the Snake?
Today you should have the November Snakebytes (Late-bytes, this month) in your e-mail box. In it, you will note:
•••Reading tomorrow night at The Book Collector, 1008 24th St., Sac.: Jane Blue (Turf Daisies and Dandelions), with a littlesnake broadside (Connections) from Cleo Fellers Kocol. 7:30 PM.
•••Also premiering tomorrow: the latest Snakelets, the free journal of poetry from youngsters ages 0-12. Next deadline is February 1.
•••Coming later in November: the latest issue of VYPER, the free poetry journal from young people ages 13-19.
•••December's releases will be Spiralchap #6: Poems in Two Voices from Joe and Susan Finkleman (two-voice poetry by the two of them, plus art from Joe), and littlesnake broadside #29 from Sacramento Poetry Center President Bob Stanley. Wednesday, December 13 will be the official release/reading date for these authors.
•••And the next deadline for the free poetry journal from adults, Rattlesnake Review (#12—an even dozen!) is coming up SOON—it's Wednesday, November 15. Send 3-5 poems, name and address, e-mail preferred, no bio/cover letter/previously-pubbed/simultaneous submits. Send art, too, and photos and doodles, and reviews—especially mini-reviews of books and workshops and events (maybe you want to query first on those, though...).
•••And the ever-PMS-ing Medusa is always hungry; the daily blog has a ravenous appetite for poetry, Nor-Cal and otherwise. Lately I've been lax on the photo/drawing posts, but I bet I could remember how, if you sent me one...
By the way, if you're not receiving the monthly Snakebytes e-mail and would like to, e-mail me at kathykieth@hotmail.com.
_______________________
October has passed, but here's a Fall poem from David Humphreys, whose Poets Corner reading series in Stockton will present devin davis this Sunday (11/12) at the Barnes & Noble in Weberstown Mall, 7 PM:
THE FIREMAN'S WIFE AND ERNEST HEMINGWAY
—David Humphreys, Stockton
October is everyone’s favorite month
with temperatures in the seventies,
not too hot or too cold.
Went to Fort Bragg over the weekend,
our girls' soccer team had a tournament.
Won two games on Saturday.
Saturday night went to the beach
and did a bonfire with marshmallows,
a beautiful happy bunch of kids.
Parents are great too, love soccer, watching
their kids play well, everything about it.
They hate it when we lose.
Sunday morning we won the first game,
two to zero. That got us into the final.
The other team got a goal in
the first half. One of our girls had a shot
hit the cross bar but it didn’t go in. They
played very hard but in the end
the other team won it one-zero. Too bad,
maybe next time. It was a long drive home
through the dark forest past the moonlit lake.
Don’t think we forgot anything.
________________________
—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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