Wednesday, December 07, 2011

Dec. 7, Coming Home, & Two Carols

Bird in Leaves
—Photo by Katy Brown, Davis

—Caschwa, Sacramento

Oh how good it feels
To put some distance between
That daily arena of tedia
And one’s own free will

To put some distance between
Giving 150 percent and
Enjoying the fruits of one’s labors

That daily arena of tedia
Is now put on hold
Like a tiger in a cage

And one’s own free will
Directs the rush hour traffic
Coming home.


—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

Every word from you, whether
in patterns of raindrops, in cool, quiet
evenings, or lightning—every other
interval of heartbeat since we met—
our rocks skipping water below a sunset.


—Carol Louise Moon

Egret: candle-bird, solitary, posing
in marshlands. Each feather the tinny
essence of snow. Sunlight flashing
intricate snowflake patterns. Icy—
on parchment. White-thread tapestry.


—Carol Eve Ford, Kenai, AK

Early in spring the Magpies gather
in raucous rag-tag tail-waving parties,
each clowning, and prattling madcap blather
in birches and spruce, sarcastic smarties,
“Oh we’re pirates bold, and searchin’ fer gold, me hearties!”

Embellishments, festooned displays of
iridescent tails and wings
enticing stunts abound in days of
importunity. Blue-green feather sings
of all the promise nesting brings.

Every summer tree is full of pranksters
insistent, charming, goofy, proud.
Even the fledglings are fluffy gangsters—
incessant hucksters working the crowd,
offering up discordant chatter—really loud!

Enchanting wags with wings wide spread,
itching to give each other flack,
eating, still they yell to be fed,
impulsive beggars, yackity yack,
oh, mimes they are not, though dressed in black.

Eventide, and autumn’s cold,
incrementally shifts the days,
easily turns the green to gold,
illuminates in different ways.
October Magpie laughs and plays.

Extra bright in black and white,
inside aspen’s golden crown,
every hop he takes delight
in showers of gold he dances down,
overjoyed this jester-clown.

Elements sharpen, all turns chill,
introspection frames the days.
Everlasting Magpie, still,
isn’t going to change his ways.
On frozen branch he lightly sways.

Elegant tail is Magpie’s crest,
identifies him from afar.
Even in winter he makes his jest
in skeletal trees, waves scimitar.
Orchestra leader; super star.


—Carol Eve Ford

Every living being known to man
is assigned an orderly scientific classification.
Even those we don’t yet know can
instantly be plugged in for identification.
Only groups are named with poetic imagination.

“Exaltation” is a group of larks.
Is a “parliament” of owls a bunch of wise guys?
Enter “wake” of buzzards, a “shiver” of sharks.
Is a “gaggle” on the ground, a “skein” when it flies?
“Ostentation” of peacocks, “charm,” “gulp,” “tiding” of Magpies.

Elephant “herds,” a “murder” of crows,
“Intrigue” of kittens, “party” of jays,
Each “wisp” of snipe, every “gang” of elk knows,
If moles form a “labor,” pheasants bloom “bouquets.”
Otters “romp,” tigers “streak,” naming comes in many ways.


—Carol Eve Ford

Larks are called an exaltation,
Eagles form a convocation,
Plovers meet in congregation,
Starlings are a murmuration,
Peacocks, certainly, ostentation,
Each its own united nation
All in constant celebration!


Thanks to Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) for his Seed of the Week poem (Coming Home) in the form of the trimeric, our "Form to Fiddle With" this week. (Dude! Ya combined them! So Kewl!) If you want to tackle the congenial trimeric, go to the green column at the right of this and find Forms to Fiddle With—For those of us who love pain... And thanks to Mike Cluff for the December 7 poem, too.

Our other poems today are from Sacramento's Carol Louise Moon and her pal, Carol Eve Ford, who hails from 'way up Alaska way (Kenai). Most of them are a form Carol Louise herself created, called E.I.E.I.Os (E.I.Os for short). They are English Quintets which follow the official rhyme scheme (A, B, A, B, B), and have an additional feature: the first letter of each line is in the sequence, E.I.E.I.O. If you'd like to learn more about Carol Eve, go to Medusa's Archives: she was featured on Sept. 2 of this year.

DADs DESK Editor/Publisher Carol Louise Moon has put out three little books of Pleiades: Pantoja Pleiades Anthology: Pleiades from A-Z by Janet Pantoja ($3); The Book of Lesser Pleiades by Carol Louise Moon ($2); and L and M Pleiades by Carol Louise Moon and Carol Eve Ford ($3). Order these, plus the current DADs DESK—Sacramento’s ONLY large-print poetry journal—from Carol Louise at 537 41st St., #6, Sacramento, CA 95819. If you'd like to write Pleiades (the 7-line, 7-syllable/line, same-cap-letter-starting-each-line form) and exchange them online with The Moon and Stars Pleiades Circle, write to Carol Louise Moon at (include "Pleiades" in subject line).

Another fine book has crossed my desk recently: Complaints of the Artist's Wife, a chapbook of poems by Elsie Whitlow Feliz, our Sacramento poet who passed away this year, has been published by Positive Pats Press, with Don Feliz as Editor and Publisher. Copies may be ordered from him at 7386 Cranston Way, Sacramento, CA 95822.

And another poetry challenge is in the works, this one from Gillian Wegener in Modesto. Gillian writes: The third annual New Year's Poetry Challenge is ready to roll! Starting December 10, you can, if you wish, receive a prompt a day for 30 days. The challenge is to write a poem for each prompt. Some of us write a few poems, a few of us write some poems and save some prompts for later, and a couple of us write our way through the holidays, writing a new poem every single day. This is an absolutely no-pressure endeavor. You don't send your poems to anyone unless you want to, and no one checks up on your progress. In January, I'll ask poets for their favorite poem, or if a favorite prompt has appeared, the poem written to that prompt, and I'll put together a small book of our work. At the January reading, we'll celebrate the new year by reading some of our work at the Barking Dog Grill Open Mic, but again, no pressure at all. This is just for fun and to start the year off with some new poetry under our belts. If you have not yet emailed me that you are interested, please let me know at I'll add you to our list and away we'll go!


Today's LittleNip: 

DECEMBER 7, 2011
—Michael Cluff, Highland

Seventy years is a long time.
At Pearl Harbor there was a crime;
the attack took away innocent lives,
made many a widow out of wives.
War is never a pretty game—
no matter the time, it remains the same.



 Branch Changing
—Photo by Katy Brown