—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!!
DISTANT DISASTER
The clear sky shattered glass.
Across a continent
we felt the tremors shake
our solid earth. And still
those waves of air, their wake—
the clear sky shattered glass.
We left the writing stand
and watched the news again,
again. The papers broke,
ink seeping from the pen.
The clear sky shattered glass
around our feet. No, that
was figment of the mind.
And yet, quite real. Just look
at what it’s left behind.
The clear sky shattered glass
as we looked up at blue.
Imagine lightning kept
in clouds unseen by night.
They gathered as we slept.
The clear sky shattered glass.
Across a continent
we felt the tremors shake
our solid earth. And still
those waves of air, their wake—
the clear sky shattered glass.
We left the writing stand
and watched the news again,
again. The papers broke,
ink seeping from the pen.
The clear sky shattered glass
around our feet. No, that
was figment of the mind.
And yet, quite real. Just look
at what it’s left behind.
The clear sky shattered glass
as we looked up at blue.
Imagine lightning kept
in clouds unseen by night.
They gathered as we slept.
TOO MANY STORIES
Everyone’s in mask.
My papers scanned, my brow,
my face just eyes.
Answer what they ask
and follow the line, however
the turnings. Silence lies.
Accomplish my task,
unravel footsteps backward
clock & counter-wise.
Escape. Chirps unmask
overhead, brown-bird nest
in structural steel disguise.
Overflowing flask
of birdsong, sunshine, life.
And then he flies.
Everyone’s in mask.
My papers scanned, my brow,
my face just eyes.
Answer what they ask
and follow the line, however
the turnings. Silence lies.
Accomplish my task,
unravel footsteps backward
clock & counter-wise.
Escape. Chirps unmask
overhead, brown-bird nest
in structural steel disguise.
Overflowing flask
of birdsong, sunshine, life.
And then he flies.
REVISITING CALDOR
Droning dump-trucks and lumbering loggers,
twisting two-lane, I find that I’m driving-driven
onward ostensibly to sight-see—
no, not just the char after doom. Devastation?
First, find the turnoff. Park. Wish. Walk.
Ponderosa pine and incense cedar. Sunlight
shimmers, shows me green soap-weed survivors.
NIGHT LIGHTS
The old man has escaped by virtue
of starlight, but pauses a moment—
not to sit on park bench given up
on hope, in danger of recapture
or pigeon-drop—but to examine
the tethered twin moons above his head
and declare them phony. By sunlight
he’ll be gone. Oh look, he’s disappeared
already, well on his way again.
DESTINY OFF THE MAP
Township and range, we knew this land by topo map minced into
lats and longs; above the rivers, quirky contours jammed into cliffs.
Then we arrived, to live its drop-offs, its sunlit vistas.
11 PENCILS, 31 PENS, 2 TABLE KNIVES
or, BLAME THE CAT
How could I forget where I just put it?
such an absolutely essential paper.
I secured it where it would be quite safe,
a place where I could always find it.
Such an absolutely essential paper!
and I need right now, somewhere in
a place where I could always find it.
Has memory gone south for the winter?
And I need it right now, somewhere in
these rooms stalked by a black cat.
Has memory gone south for the winter?
I remember, under the couch—
these rooms stalked by a black cat—
pencils, pens, and table knives.
I remember under the couch
he kept his kleptomaniacal hoard
(pencils, pens, and table knives)
secured where it would be quite safe.
He kept his kleptomaniacal hoard.
I didn’t just forget where I put them!
Today’s LittleNip:
CROWNED WITH HORNS
—Taylor Graham
No Trespassing signs
mean nothing to a brown goat
eating rock roses.
__________________
A Friday welcome to Taylor Graham, and many thanks for her poems and photography taday. She and hubby Hatch Graham celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this week! How time flies…
TG has sent us her poems in forms today: a Monchielle stanza, last week’s Fiddlers’ Challenge (“Distant Disaster”); some rhymed Tercets (“Too Many Stories”); an Alliteration (“Revisiting Caldor”); last week’s Ekphrastic challenge in Normative Syllablics (“Night Lights”); a Sijo (“Destiny off the Map”); a Pantoum (“11 Pencils, 31 Pens, 2 Table Knives”); and a Haiku—unless it's a Senryu? (“Crowned with Horns”).
And now it’s time for. . .
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
Taylor Graham played with rhyme today with her Tercets in “Too Many Stories” above, and Form Fiddlers Joyce Odam and Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) joined her:
STARING AT TIME
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
fluttering down from the trees
the little souls of leaves
the life that death believes…
the splintering of bird-songs
the little rights and wrongs
the way it all belongs…
the mental vertigo
the things that stay and go
the tercets in a row…
the souls that wait in stones…
the music in the bones
the casual undertones…
the threes and twos and one
the endings late begun
the black glare in the sun…
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
fluttering down from the trees
the little souls of leaves
the life that death believes…
the splintering of bird-songs
the little rights and wrongs
the way it all belongs…
the mental vertigo
the things that stay and go
the tercets in a row…
the souls that wait in stones…
the music in the bones
the casual undertones…
the threes and twos and one
the endings late begun
the black glare in the sun…
Carl’s rhymes are actually Tercets nestled together:
EXTRAPOLATION
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
help! my belt is missing
my pants are falling
and my jock has no more strap
the snakes are hissing
bad names they’re calling
too busy on my lap
a stock option
tape held by friction
Ottoman Empire Kurbash
volcanic eruption
pure science fiction
all inscribed on my eyelash
EXTRAPOLATION
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
help! my belt is missing
my pants are falling
and my jock has no more strap
the snakes are hissing
bad names they’re calling
too busy on my lap
a stock option
tape held by friction
Ottoman Empire Kurbash
volcanic eruption
pure science fiction
all inscribed on my eyelash
And Joe Nolan’s poem falls into tidy rhyme as well:
THE DANDELIONS AND I
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
There are some things
Upon my lawn
With which I disagree,
Like dandelions,
Standing tall,
To let their
Seeds fly free.
How could they so openly
Challenge my hegemony—
I, the master, of my lawn,
As far as I can see?
THE DANDELIONS AND I
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
There are some things
Upon my lawn
With which I disagree,
Like dandelions,
Standing tall,
To let their
Seeds fly free.
How could they so openly
Challenge my hegemony—
I, the master, of my lawn,
As far as I can see?
Last week’s Ekphrastic challenge
Here are two responses to last week’s Ekphrastic challenge, the empty park bench above, the first by Stephen Kingsnorth from Over the Sea:
STILL LIFE?
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK
Left on the bench, for poorly played,
or magistrate yet unretired—
despite well past fifth age of man—
but here it’s empty, slats in space,
no sport or judgement on the line?
These ruler shapes around the globe—
though think the halo too absurd—
I fear takes me to stars and stripes,
and some who think their power is gold
as chosen people of the world.
A star with stripes, past prophet’s words,
the servant king in powerless place,
may be old law, mixed myth and lore,
but substance, how love dominates,
might bring two lonely souls to form.
I know this track familiar
as my profession intervenes,
but each can play their music style,
record their lyrics, verse about,
and tell the story of their choice.
To me this image speaks the earth,
as surely viewer’s commentary,
that sadly, pic is person free,
inanimate as tree cartoon,
draft Eden before folk arrive.
Does all good art interrogate?
If so this print a masterpiece,
directing question most would ask,
save those who dread companionship;
unless no homeless, paradise.
* * *
Thanks, Stephen! And here is Carl’s response to the photo:
DISTANT COUSINS
—Caschwa
there it sits, empty and alone in the
park, wondering how other members
of the family are doing….
the piano bench, beneath its hinged
seat rests Bach Two Part Inventions,
waiting ever so patiently for the day
when the piano player feels up to the
challenge of more densely populated
key signatures
the bus driver’s seat, with bold arrows
pointing to the location of a mandatory
fire extinguisher, and all sorts of these
and those levers waiting to be adjusted
by whoever sits there next
the banana bicycle seat from my old
ten-speed, designed to allow for faster
and greater movement of the legs of
the rider, but now dazed and confused
as to what’s up with all this coasting
downhill?
the baby’s high chair, once the center-
piece of family routines, now tucked
away in storage, never again to behold
the amazing development of someone
who started out as a fully dependent
creature, and who later morphed into
a poster child of independence
* * *
Another challenge last week was the Monschielle, with its rhymes and repeated lines humming along (I just like saying the title: Moan-SHELL, Moan-SHELL…). Taylor Graham sent us one (“Distant Disaster”, see above), and here are two by Caschwa:
WE’RE ALL LAB RATS
—Caschwa
I love these politics
a carousel of hate
around and round they go
and never meet the end
no sign of to and fro
I love these politics
experimental rules
we’re pioneering law
like never done before
and always, there’s a flaw
I love these politics
discussions hot and wild
where lunatics abound
and in the end we see
false idols meet the ground
I love these politics
all ready for a fight
my vote will truly count
there’s surely more to do
a new campaign to mount
—Caschwa
I love these politics
a carousel of hate
around and round they go
and never meet the end
no sign of to and fro
I love these politics
experimental rules
we’re pioneering law
like never done before
and always, there’s a flaw
I love these politics
discussions hot and wild
where lunatics abound
and in the end we see
false idols meet the ground
I love these politics
all ready for a fight
my vote will truly count
there’s surely more to do
a new campaign to mount
HOLDING A GRUDGE
—Caschwa
the symptoms you don’t want
from belly of a toad
your pet, you named him Grudge
you hold him every day
real tight so he can’t budge
the symptoms you don’t want
in public whereabouts
the fever and the cramps
from salmonella curse
that taxes worse than stamps
the symptoms you don’t want
those stomach aches and all
the diarrhea bane
that curbs your normal plans
to drive you near insane
the symptoms you don’t want
when putting on your clothes
big messes on the floor
the end is not so near
get ready for some more…
—Caschwa
the symptoms you don’t want
from belly of a toad
your pet, you named him Grudge
you hold him every day
real tight so he can’t budge
the symptoms you don’t want
in public whereabouts
the fever and the cramps
from salmonella curse
that taxes worse than stamps
the symptoms you don’t want
those stomach aches and all
the diarrhea bane
that curbs your normal plans
to drive you near insane
the symptoms you don’t want
when putting on your clothes
big messes on the floor
the end is not so near
get ready for some more…
* * *
Yesterday I posted poems from Mike Hickman from York, England, and I made up the first two lines of a Limerick as a joke: “There was a Mike Hickman from York, who ate all his meals with a spork (medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2022/02/consulting-paperwork-about-robots.html).” Carol Louise Moon took me up on it and sent this Limerick, saying “In response to your clever two-line rhyme regarding Mike Hickman, here's a Limerick in his honor. I REALLY like his sense of humor.” There are lots of different kinds of sporks, by the way; here is one of the simplest. Don't ever leave McDonald's without one:
MIKE HICKMAN
—Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
Fine poet, this Hickman from York
whose ramen he eats with a spork.
His jokes, though they're wry,
make me laugh till I cry—
he cranks them all out with such torque.
* * *
And, finally, here’s a Haiku chain from Carol Louise to calm us all down and to round off another fine Form Fiddlers’ Friday:
—Photo by Carol Louise Moon
dew-damp spring morning
keen gray fox with kits hidden
betrayed by owl hoot
morning grace of sounds
blue birds chirping
horned owl listens
steep sunny hillside
blue side-striped lizard slithers
into shade of dreams
—Carol Louise Moon
____________________
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:
•••The Cuarteto: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/cuarteto
And see the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one!
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Alliteration Poem (Single-Letter Poem): Each word of the poem begins with the same letter. See www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-alliteration-in-poetry-alliteration-definition-with-examples#what-is-alliteration
•••Cuarteto: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/cuarteto
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Limerick: poets.org/glossary/limerick
•••Monchielle (moan-SHELL): www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/monchielle.html
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html
•••Senryu: www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-senryu-poems#quiz-0
•••Sijo: www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/sijo-poetic-form
•••Tercet: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/tercet
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html
•••Senryu: www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-senryu-poems#quiz-0
•••Sijo: www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/sijo-poetic-form
•••Tercet: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/tercet
____________________
RESOURCE OF THE WEEK:
•••Poets Collective’s Rhyme Zone (www.rhymezone.com): A writer's resource for rhymes, synonyms, adjectives, etc.—lots of help with getting the right word to work for you in the right way!
____________________
—Medusa
See what you can make of the above
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Public Domain Photo
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
