Rumble-Hums & Wordless Joy

 

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA

—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!

THE POND THIS MORNING

Egret wings its morning song
low across the water, rising, surveying
wetland before settling high
in a ghost pine farther east. Bird of light and
hungers. This bird I’m thankful
to see each time I visit, from a distance—
my human distance. What can
I know of an egret’s hungers? The pond is
a blessing, breathing in slight
ripples, patterns ever changing. Dragonfly
over water. I see flight
as a thanks-song, a query, a request—or
dare I call it a prayer?
I’m lost in my human words for this morning. 

 

 

 

ORANGE

In the dark before first-light
I slide open my dresser drawer, pull out
a cotton T-shirt. Blaze-orange
with Search-and-Rescue logo. It calls

and from down the hall
my dog catches the scent/sound/thought-
waves/who-knows-what
in the sensory palette of dogs.
Instantly, he’s here

sniffing the fabric of old T-shirt
fresh from the wash, but still imbued
with paths through woods, crosscountry
forays up a sunburnt hill;
he’s following invisible crumb-
trails of broadcast scent, jigsaw-
pieces of what somebody smelled like,
scattered by convection and wind.

It’s simple. In his chest rises
a rumble-hum wave on wave, the song
of wordless joy,
of where-will-we-go-today?


(prev. pub. in Uplift [chapbook by Taylor Graham])

 

 

 

 

 

COLORS OF FALL

Aspen changing leaves
of yellow aiming for orange—
did all those trees dream
colors of flame as wildfire
galloped through, verging the grove? 

 

 

 

 

 

CITY FLOWERS

It’s fall but no one
told the peavine, twining with
blackberry bramble,
nor the berry blossom fresh
as May. Do they bloom
for the impromptu campers
still wrapped in sleeping-
bags on blacktop not far from
El Dorado Trail?
Just now a hiker with his
shopping cart passed by,
pushing his worldly things—and
topping it all, his guitar. 

 

 

 

FIELD METAMORPHOSIS

I snapped this milkweed in bloom
then left the pasture
land too hot-parched to check for
pollinators. Then,
the mercury subsiding
into fall, milkweed just looked
dead. I stepped closer—
white seed lifting on its wings. 

 

 

 

 

DEAR DEER,

You walked this road last night
or by first light this October morning
printing your signature in deep loose dirt
so recently dozed for fire access.
Did you flee the flames? Was this your refuge,
where they stopped the advance mid-grove?
I didn’t see you among the trees
that were spared. Were you watching me
click photos on my device? which,
for all you know, might be lethal to deer.
Wary patience shifting as shadow
are you, surviving on margins, ever tuned
to danger; lovely as any highwire
grace at the perilous edge. You ask
nothing of me but to leave you alone. 

Is a poem OK? 

 

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

CLIMATE CHANGE VS HAIKU
—Taylor Graham

Seasonal marker
of Fall? blackberry blossoms
here in October.

__________________

Our thank-yous to Taylor Graham for her poem-songs about Autumn in the post-fire foothills! Forms she sent us today: an Imayo, or Imago (“Field Metamorphosis”); a Waka (“Colors of Fall”); an Epistolary (“Dear Deer,”); a 7-11 (she writes, “I don't know if there's a 7-11s form so I wrote one, alternating 7 & 11-syllable lines”—“The Pond This Morning”); a Choka (“City Flowers”); and a “Senryu? or is it Haiku?” (“Climate Change vs Haiku”).

 

And now it's time for: 

 

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.)

Last week’s Fiddlers’ Challenge was a Welsh form, the Englyn Unold Crwca, and Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) has sent us a chain of them:


THUMBS UP
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

stretch your hand to catch the rain
past draught seen through window pane
nothing to lose, all to gain, it will come
the fulcrum goes insane

trickles first, from precious mist
reach to lips too long unkissed
ignore that timepiece on your wrist, seasons
change, reasons won’t assist

gather buckets for the wet
that’s sure to come, just not yet
proactive optimism sets the stage
to engage a sure bet 

 

 

 

 

Taylor Graham sent us her invention, a 7-11 [see above], and, coincidentally, this week we had some other poetry “inventions”. Claire Baker sent a poem about the “invented form used by Omar Khayyam”:


PICNIC ALONG THE RUBAIYAT*
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

You tote the red, I’ll pick up sour bread,
bananas, brie.  My dear, we’ll be well-fed.
While sipping wine, pausing to toast ourselves,
the bottle tips and taints the picnic spread!     

So ends our tough-luck day! At home we play;
O when the saints go marchin’ in, Ole!
A counselor has urged we lighten up.
Blasting the beat, we shout across the Bay…

Like gods, we climb on ladders made of air.
You’re clumsy, dear, while I’ve, yes, grace to spare.
But, when we reach a scary overview
I’m fully shaken and you seem debonair.

This week, in making love, at last we saw
we’re diamonds in a roughened stack of straw.
So, waxing wise and keeping facets shined,
we give in to groping and to awe.


*An invented form used by Omar Khayyam

in his individual Rubaiyats.

 

 

 

Carl Schwartz sent his invention of two quintets based on Medusa’s current Seed of the Week: Gossamer. Each line is 8 syllables long, and the rhyme scheme is: a, b, c/c, a, b. Your form needs a name, Carl. The Gossamer? [Note the anagram in the title]:


A GAMER OFF HIS OSS
—Caschwa

true gamer stands on all 8 legs
constructing an intricate web
silk is on sale, the nifty veil
here comes some meat to go with eggs
rolls in like tides with flow and ebb

so far, so good, outlook is fine
the web could even reach its peak
no maître d’, best seats are free
an evening full of wine and dine
if birds don’t snatch you in their beak

 

 

 

 

 

Carl also put together a poem out of  “a few quatrains, 6 syllables per line, lines 2 and 4 rhyme. Too skint to have a meter. Don’t know if this form has a name…” Well, I suppose calling it a “temper tantrum” isn’t the best use of that title…


TEMPER TANTRUM
—Caschwa

our government works by
consent of the governed
until complaints are raised
by those who have not learned

     “don’t tell us what to do,
     we hate outside control,
     hands off our guns and slaves
     you socialist asshole!”

we have a flag, we do
for our United States
pledging an allegiance
that transcends petty hates

     “who do you think you are
     to mandate we wear masks
     or get vaccinations,
     as if that’s our prime task?”

and so good friends dispute
who gets to call the shots
more folks will have to die
till we untie these knots

 

 

 

 

This week, Michael Brownstein sent us “the Tanaga, from the Tagalog language of the Philippines. Four-line stanza (can be one or many), each line seven syllables, and an aabb rhyme scheme. They are never given titles. Here are three of my first tries”:

1.
When the thick rains fall harder,
its gross perfume marred her—
but she recovered her senses
and let go of her defenses

Then the trolley flushed nearby,
muddy waste hit her, oh my!
Too late to clean herself up,
she sat in the café to sup.

2.
Near the gray ocean two friends
spoke of love, how it transcends,
walked way down the stony beach,
held hands, one ate a ripe peach.

What became of them unknown,
but their shadow is in stone
and every other cool night,
they say you can feel their plight.

3.
Once in awhile mud fills gaps
concrete cracked covers maps,
but nothing matters when it breaks—
nothing works, including cakes.


—Michael H. Brownstein, Jefferson City, MO

______________________

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!

______________________

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:

•••CinqTroisDecalLa Rhyme: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/cinrhyme.html (say sank-twa-dayKAWL-la-REEM)

•••And see below for this week's Ekphrastic Challenge, our new feature!

______________________

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

•••Choka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka OR poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka
•••CinqTroisDecalLa Rhyme: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/cinrhyme.html

•••Ekphrastic poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Englyn Unold Crwca: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/englyn-unold-crwca-poetic-forms
•••Epistolary poem: poets.org/glossary/epistolary-poem
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Imago: eight lines in alternating syllables, 7 5 7 5 7 5 7 5
•••Imayo: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/imayo-poetic-forms
•••Rubáiyát: www.baymoon.com/~ariadne/form/rubaiyat.htm
•••Senryu: www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-senryu-poems#quiz-0
•••Tanaga: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/tanag
•••Waka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/waka

__________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

Today's Ekphrastic Challenge

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of 

Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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