Friday, October 30, 2020

Skeletons & Headless Roses

 
—Poetry and Creepy Photos of Downtown Placerville 
by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA

 —And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!

 

OCTOBER, SPIRITS

We cup our hands around the possibility
of fire. Frost has nipped our ankles, touched a hunger
at the dug-up root. Headless roses can’t explain

how they ever could have been an easy beauty.
Dried herbs beg to be incense, or a witch’s brew,
pulverized and potent, and finally let fly

on wind and wishes. The shriek you heard
last night was nothing but a shrew being changed
in the horned-owl’s grasp; and in the field,

one misshapen pumpkin put aside
waits for everything it might become; waits
for someone to carve its own true face.


(prev. pub. in
Harmonics by Taylor Graham, Poets’ Corner Press)

 


 

STAR MAPS

PG&E cut lights. Dark!
Inside, land without a mark.
Coffee? Build a fire:
kindling and a spark,
then small woods, then logs.
Outside, cold and stark.
Black sky full of energy,
Star-maps laid out bright for me.

 


 

SPIRITS DANCE IN THEIR BONES

a crescive moon over ossuaries’
arcanum: os incus (o curious ear, o arias),
sacrum, ossa coxae (arise, come);
arm (axis, an arc) no more in irons;
vomer (nose, o sensuous
aromas rose-azure-cerise, air
a caress); cranium
(arcaic memories, a cosmic crown)
now numinous as moonrise,
amazes, anima answers


(prev. pub. in
Pulverized Diamonds, James Lee Jobe)

 

 

  

FOYER

The raven’s perched
whispering in a dead man’s ear.
The raven’s perched
like the answer to what he’s searched
all his life through the now-and-here.
And, as avian tongue makes clear,
the raven’s perched. 

 


 

COVID HAUNTS

The creaky door balks as if struck by fear
but you persist in opening, in spite.
You guess no one has dared to enter here.
Beyond the lintel shines a pallid light

but you persist in opening in spite.
While Covid has the world locked safe at home,
beyond the lintel shines a pallid light.
A shot of coffee makes you brave to roam

while Covid has the world locked safe at home.
Your heel on entry makes a creepy click—
A shot of coffee makes you brave to roam
in silence broken only by—a snick!

Your heel on entry makes a creepy click
like knee-bones laid down joint-to-joint, as deep
as silence, broken only by a snick
like coins tossed in an empty dungeon-keep,

like knee-bones laid down joint-to-joint as deep
in ghosted dark as gibbous moon, and yew,
as coins tossed in an empty dungeon-keep
this spooky Halloween. The owl pipes Whoo

in ghosted dark. The gibbous moon, the yew—
beyond the lintel shining pallid light
this spooky Halloween, the owl pipes Whoo!
The creaky door balks as if struck by fear. 

 

 

  

HALLOWEEN DOWNTOWN

On
Main Street
I dodge ghosts,
skeletons and
spooks.

Black
Cat in
store window
wears smiley mask—
witch?

Dog
aged down
to its bones
howls: my name isn’t
Rip!

Cold
blue-green
face just needs
a hot mug of
joe. 

 


 

Today’s LittleNip:

SWIFTHAWK
—Taylor Graham

We flushed her, my dog
and I walking the woodlands—
and then off she flew
leaving us earthbound creatures
to our hunting of wishes.

__________________________

Thank you and Happy Halloween (tomorrow) to Taylor Graham, with spooky talk of spirits and worlds beyond this one. She mentioned James Lee Jobe, poet and publisher (in the past), Poet Laureate of Davis and poster of poems each Saturday in Medusa’s Kitchen. Don’t forget that James will be posting video poetry readings on Facebook tonight (no later than 7:30pm) on youtube.com/jamesleejobe or james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com/. Tonight he will read from Robert Bly.

Also online tonight, 6pm: Laura Martin presents David Iribarne: Poetry and Memories: an evening of David's poetry, and memories of our friend and SnakePal who passed away recently from COVID-19. Zoom: us02web.zoom.us/j/88006641622/. Meeting ID: 880 0664 1622; Passcode: 859411. Info: www.facebook.com/david.iribarne/.

Taylor Graham sent us some poetry forms today in her fine post, including a Prisoner’s Constraint (“Spirits Dance in Their Bones”); a Pantoum (“Covid Haunts”); a Lanturne chain (“Halloween Downtown”); a Rondelet (“Foyer”); a Sandwiched by Sevens (“Star Maps”); and a Tanka (“Swifthawk”). (See Medusa’s Form Finder at the end of this post for links to definitions of the forms used this week.)

And now it’s time for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!

___________________________

FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY! 

It’s time for more contributions from Form Fiddlers, in addition to those sent to us by Taylor Graham! Each Friday for awhile, there will be poems posted here from some of our readers using forms—either ones which were mentioned on Medusa during the previous week, or whatever else floats through the Kitchen and the perpetually stoned mind of Medusa. If these instructions are vague, it's because they're meant to be. Just fiddle around with some forms and get them posted in the Kitchen, by golly! (See Medusa’s Form Finder at the end of this post for links to definitions of the forms used this week.)

Carol Louise Moon has sent us a lovely Pentina, sister of the Sestina. Carol Louise writes that “a Pentina is made up of five stanzas of five lines (“pent!”), plus a 2-line envoi; this form is 27 lines long. The Pentina was created by poet and songwriter Leigh Harrison; its description can be found online, or in Lewis Turco’s
The Book of Forms/Odd and Invented Forms, which was published in 2011. The Pentina, like the Sestina, does not utilize rhyme, but relies on the use of repeated end-words, properly called teleutons.” 

By the way, if you're a form-a-fanatic, you might consider investing in Turco, both his Book of Forms that Carol Louise mentions, and his New Book of Forms. All available on www.amazon.com/Lewis-Turco/e/B001K7LAUQ%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share/. Most form descriptions are available online now, but one can never have too many resources at one's fingertips to thumb through, yes? (Notice how I didn't mix my metaphors...)

 

  

 

Here is Carol Louise’s perky Pentina:



ELUSIVE BIRD
—Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA

Fireflies light up along
her country path. She comes
in flow of golden moon high-
rising above a shimmer-mirror
lake. Circles rise like elusive

morning mists, like elusive
ferns she finds along
her path. Each step mirrors
the next, as she comes
steady and light-hearted—high

hopes abounding. High
time she find this elusive
promise. Evening comes,
she finds herself a long
way off from home—no mirror

there—nor here a shadow mirror.
Hollyhocks rising high
crowd in pinking rows along
the meadow fence. Elusive
in grass the butterflies come

close enough to touch. One comes
and lights among the mirrored
patterns of her dress; elusive
lines now blurred. The moon is high
above an evening blue. Along

comes a solitary hawk, mirrored
along his favored lake—high, elusive. 

 


 

Joyce Odam and I have had a conversation about the Ghazal form this week, since she sent her “husbands knew me” poem for last Tuesday’s post. I asked her if it was a Ghazal, and she wrote back that it could be. She even sent me some more of her Ghazals and some more information, so I’ve posted this one (which even happens to fit our Seed of the Week: Dry Leaves Underfoot). See Medusa’s Form Finder at the bottom of this post for several links to Ghazal sources, but don’t get frustrated; this form is kind of subjective, and different people (and cultures) have different takes on it.

Here is another one of Joyce’s smooth Ghazals:


GHAZAL FOR A SHORT DISTANCE INTO FOREVER
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

Somewhere a bell rattles and dry leaves hurry to their deaths.
Come, let us take the world by the horns and shake it into fury.

Is it not true that all distance travels farther than itself?
I have unfolded the map and this is not where I thought I was.

A man with heavy shoulders is waiting for another burden.
See how his reflection in glass is mistaking itself for another.

Sometimes I feel the anguish in the air and cry remembrance.
Once an old blue shadow stepped into my life and stayed.

Oh, I was so sure of my beauty. I knew all the poses.
The shadow began to crumble and fall away.

I would never have believed that I would cry out in such a voice.
The old faint echoes carry and admonish, “Rejoice! Rejoice!”

 




Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) has sent us a Villanelle, a Lanturne (last week’s Form Fiddler’s Challenge) and a Pantoum—more noble forms with which to keep your poetry chops in shape. About his Villanelle, Carl says: “This Villanelle can serve as a metaphor for the steady diet of unproven statements a certain presidential candidate is trying to feed us.”



SHORT HAT CHEF
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

you have ignored the lessons I have taught,
imposing your tastes on my good chili
I sampled a spoonful, good it was not

to make matters worse, you made a whole pot
swarming, spicy peppers till it’s silly
you have ignored the lessons I have taught

with flavors too exotic it is fraught
raw cuttings just floating like a lily
I sampled a spoonful, good it was not

you went past the point where food tastes good hot
and just added torture willy nilly
you have ignored the lessons I have taught

yours made me ask what disease I had caught
as my skin became itchy and hilly
I sampled a spoonful, good it was not

my own chili mix I enjoy a lot
as fun as the circus, Piccadilly
you have ignored the lessons I have taught
I sampled a spoonful, good it was not 

 

 

 

This is Carl’s Lanturne—a chain of them, in fact, like Taylor Graham’s (see above). Betcha can't write just one:

BY EXAMPLE
—Caschwa

verbs
adverbs
adjectives
all have their own
rules 

*** 


rush
money
fastest way
it’s already
spent

*** 


hot
coffee
in a mug
endless refills
aaah!

***


we
voted,
used drop box
now it’s your turn
go

***

one
nation
under God
indivisi-
ble

 

 




And his slightly naughty Pantoum:



PANTALOONS PANTOUM
—Caschwa

we were getting it together
and then she donned her pantaloons
social distancing, you know
survival of the species

and then she donned her pantaloons
with no one next to her
survival of the species
both of us wore masks

with no one next to her
I wore loose jammies
both of us wore masks
we were very happy then

I wore loose jammies
we were getting it together
we were very happy then
social distancing, you know

____________________

Many thanks to our SnakePals for their brave fiddling! Would you like to be a SnakePal? All you have to do is send poetry—forms or not—and/or photos and artwork to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post work from all over the world, including that which was previously-published. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

 



NEW FEATURE: Fiddlers’ Challenge!  

See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) This week's challenge (for Halloween): Skeltonic Verse: www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/skeltonic-verse-poetic-form/.

_______________________

MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:

•••Ghazal: poets.org/glossary/ghazal OR poetryschool.com/theblog/whats-a-ghazal OR
www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ghazal  OR
www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/ghazal.html  
•••Lanturne: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lanturne.html
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html
•••Pentina: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pentina
•••Prisoner’s Constraint/Restriction/Multiple Lipogram: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lipogram
•••Rondelet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/rondelet-poetic-forms
•••Sandwiched by Sevens: 7,7,5,5,5,5,5,7,7, rhyme scheme aaxaxaxbb (Carl Schwartz)
•••Sestina: www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Sestina
•••Skeltonic Verse: www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/skeltonic-verse-poetic-form
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Villanelle (rhymed; can be done unrhymed): www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/poetic-forms-villanelle

_______________________


—Medusa

 

 
—Public Domain Cartoon Courtesy of  
Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA  
 
 
 
 












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