—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!
BLOODY
I walked out past sundown
to watch the full Blood Moon eclipsing—
a dull dried-bloody wafer with just
a scimitar-edge of bright.
I aimed my phone to capture
the sight: brilliant oblong on dark screen.
But wait. How could that rising moon
be underneath the skyline?—
ragged ridge of oaks a scant half-shade
darker than the heavens’ rim.
Oh no—not the moon,
An east neighbor’s security light-show.
I started walking in the dark,
moved until I got a great leafy oak bough
between me and neighbor’s
light pollution; photographed the moon.
I walked out past sundown
to watch the full Blood Moon eclipsing—
a dull dried-bloody wafer with just
a scimitar-edge of bright.
I aimed my phone to capture
the sight: brilliant oblong on dark screen.
But wait. How could that rising moon
be underneath the skyline?—
ragged ridge of oaks a scant half-shade
darker than the heavens’ rim.
Oh no—not the moon,
An east neighbor’s security light-show.
I started walking in the dark,
moved until I got a great leafy oak bough
between me and neighbor’s
light pollution; photographed the moon.
ESCAPE TO SKY
Did they fall out of the nest into flight?
Seven feathered bodies pressed together
in the nest-box. Anchored to a deck-post
by the kitchen door, nest of seven eggs;
then tiny bald titmice gradually
sprouted fuzz. I peeked in just yesterday—
too many huddled babes to count. Seven?
And now they’re gone, nestbox hanging askew,
door gaped open. No unhatched eggs. I check
the sky for seven pairs of wings released
from their cell. How they were yearning for flight.
SWANS IN FLIGHT
art print by Lynne Parker, 2009
Three white swans in formation
low over the lake from whence they slept
wakened I suspect by daylight
first light like an explosion bursting
shore, its trees and sandbars to fragments
of light, of muted rust and blood,
the slight blue-green tint a hint
of trees beyond, more visible on water
than on air, a mirror-trick of sight.
How can it be, after all my
parsing of the artist’s brushstrokes
paddling the canoe of her mind,
three white swans still in formation
where I left them
in their day’s first flight.
art print by Lynne Parker, 2009
Three white swans in formation
low over the lake from whence they slept
wakened I suspect by daylight
first light like an explosion bursting
shore, its trees and sandbars to fragments
of light, of muted rust and blood,
the slight blue-green tint a hint
of trees beyond, more visible on water
than on air, a mirror-trick of sight.
How can it be, after all my
parsing of the artist’s brushstrokes
paddling the canoe of her mind,
three white swans still in formation
where I left them
in their day’s first flight.
BACHELOR TOM?
Tom Turkey fans his tail
surely he must prevail.
He struts and strolls and hopes
and all alone he mopes.
And still he fans and calls
the hens till evening falls.
Tom Turkey fans his tail
surely he must prevail.
He struts and strolls and hopes
and all alone he mopes.
And still he fans and calls
the hens till evening falls.
FAMILY SITUATION
For weeks, two wild turkey hens pecked seeds
on our deck—birdseed kicked
from hanging feeder by finches, titmice and a pair
of black-headed grosbeaks. The hens—
one wild-turkey color, the other pale gray as ash—
raided our compost pile for tossed-out scraps.
For weeks, a wild turkey tom maundered
our outskirts, fanning his flamboyant tail,
gobble-calling in a lovelorn way;
alone in mating season.
At last, turkey-color hen visits our deck,
pecking birdseed—with 3 poults,
tiniest I’ve ever seen. Birdseed gone,
they fly. And here
comes solitary Tom pausing to unfurl his tail.
Could he be father, faithfully flanking
his flock? O lurker, stalker?
Googling gobblers, I find no answer.
Scattered seed-bits of fact and supposition,
where can a poem lead?
STATUS REPORT T3
One wild turkey hen foraging
the field, her 3 tiny poults near-
invisible in once-mowed grass.
No photo-op, they’re gone
and Lonesome Tom appears, gobbling,
fanning his crowning-glory tail.
But look, is the great bird hobbling?
Fan-pause-hobble-pause. Fan.
Could this be injury-feigning?
I never saw him limp before—
this hobble-gobble—to protect
tiny babes in the grass?
Today’s LittleNip:
TANGO’S DANCE
Pony Express Re-Ride 2019
I spotted her in the Pony horde,
bowing her crest, meditating her peace;
awaiting mailbags, her partner-rider’s touch
and they’d be off, flying, oh, dancing this release.
_______________________
Poor Lonesome Tom! Is he indeed the proud protective poult-papa? Or maybe their world isn’t tied up so neatly? Where can a poem lead, as TG asks. Anyway, thank you, Taylor Graham, for stories a-plenty today in your smooth style. And for putting them into forms: Blank Verse (“Escape to Sky”); an Ekphrastic Poem (“Swans in Flight”); a Tango (“Tango's Dance”); a Big Wah (“Bachelor Tom?”); an Ars Poetica (“Family Situation”); and a Ryūka chain (“Status Report T3”).
Don’t forget to check our UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS link at the top of this column for what’s going on this weekend; Saturday’s a-hoppin’!
And now it’s time for . . .
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
There’s also a newly dusted-off page at the top of Medusa’s Kitchen called, “FORMS! OMG!!!” which expresses some of my (take ‘em or leave 'em) opinions about the use of forms in poetry writing, as well as listing some more resources to help you navigate through Form Quicksand. Got any more resources to add to our list? Send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com for the benefit of all man/woman/poetkind!
Joyce Odam sent us the Manardina this week, and we thank her for that. Here are the instructions she sent, along with her example:
Manardina: 6 lines, Syllabic Form: 4 8 8 8 8 4
(Seems to have no rhyme-pattern)
Joyce’s Source:
Poem/Form found in poem by Dorman John Grace,
from his book, Let There be Starlight, as found in
Premier Poets Anthology, 1985-86
I also found the Manardina at Poets Collective (poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina), with slightly different instructions (2 rhymes). Joyce’s example has two stanzas and no rhymes; do as you will if you write one. (Joyce’s example is lovely, and so sad. Joyce does “sad” so very well.)
Illustration Courtesy of Public Domain
THE ALL-NIGHT BIRDS
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
All night the birds
sang against the carrying dark,
sang for themselves and each other;
sang against my sequestered heart—
bittersweet with listening. They
sang for their love
and not for mine.
Mine had been surrendered to some
lost song—kept in the sheltered dark
in a little dark box that lay
in a safe place . . . in a safe place . . .
in a safe place.
(prev. pub. in Ship of Fools, 2003)
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
All night the birds
sang against the carrying dark,
sang for themselves and each other;
sang against my sequestered heart—
bittersweet with listening. They
sang for their love
and not for mine.
Mine had been surrendered to some
lost song—kept in the sheltered dark
in a little dark box that lay
in a safe place . . . in a safe place . . .
in a safe place.
(prev. pub. in Ship of Fools, 2003)
Last Week’s Ekphrastic Challenge
Both Stephen Kingsnorth and Carl (Caschwa) sent responses to the above photo:
HERERO OF NAMIBIA
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
HERERO OF NAMIBIA
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Colour on light umber turned,
near noon shadows, stark bite ground,
honeydew, strike parakeet,
peacock bold, but butterfly,
petals burning from the black—
village elders in debate,
gentler shades for older, sage;
are those younger in rebuke,
palette range seen overplayed?
Headdress folded, antler gear,
like the rut to win the field,
dust corralled, failed brushwood shade—
no effect to cool dispute,
folds and creases, foreheads, dress,
gathered waists like girding loins.
Or your reading, kinder lines,
context or a title known?
Vibrant primaries seduce,
scenes, exotic, taken hold?
Was the motive for the shot
desert bright or power play?
What the spin of lens or sight—
fashion catwalk, Tybalt fight?
* * *
EXAM WORRIES
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
a cluster of people one
is not likely to ever meet
invites profiling based
on image alone
like on a multiple choice
test, which answer “looks”
more correct, or maybe it
is All, or maybe None
the choices of True or False
carry different weight as one
gazes up and down a caste
system’s behavior assignments
are these folks who will die
in vain, or has any semblance
of temptation already been
carved out of their psyche?
* * *
Nolcha Fox sent a poem made up of Dimeter (two feet/line) lines. (See Muriel Rukeyser’s “Yes” for another Dimeter poem: anthonywilsonpoetry.com/2019/12/10/advent-poems-10-yes-by-muriel-rukeyser/). You might check out study.com/academy/lesson/dimeter-definition-examples.html for the beginning of a more extensive explanation of Dimeter. It’s a study course through Study.com, in case you’re interested.
Meanwhile, here’s Nolcha’s effective use of Dimeter:
Illustration Courtesy of Public Domain
ONCE AN OASIS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Once an oasis,
we came to you weary,
you offered refreshment
before we moved on.
The road now runs past you,
abandoned Shell station,
your pavement a stained glass
of concrete and weeds.
But emptiness calls out
to be reimagined.
Your shell will be one day
refilled and reborn.
* * *
Carl sends a Riddle Poem, followed by one of Stephen’s erotemes:
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Once an oasis,
we came to you weary,
you offered refreshment
before we moved on.
The road now runs past you,
abandoned Shell station,
your pavement a stained glass
of concrete and weeds.
But emptiness calls out
to be reimagined.
Your shell will be one day
refilled and reborn.
* * *
Carl sends a Riddle Poem, followed by one of Stephen’s erotemes:
Illustration Courtesy of Public Domain
TH GRT VWL CHLLNG
—Caschwacn cnsnnts tll th whl trth?
dn’t sk, dn’t tll
* * *
And finally, a note from SK about writing. Does your metric measure dance?
Illustration Courtesy of Public Domain
SPARKS
—Stephen Kingsnorth
So many, why, start verse with I ?
Experience may be known to me,
give reason further to explore,
but campanologist in tower,
climb ivory, or ring a bell?
Do words speak, franca, as streets find?
For some the Abba rhyme appeals—
as final Mamma Mia note,
the winner takes all, breathless throat,
fast dying strain, ghost harmony.
Some schemes, with weighed abandon, blank—
but does the metric measure dance,
sway words enhance sung melody?
Do vowels yawn, evoke a wow,
while consonants consent or bite?
Though prompted, observed image, phrase
the sparks of Calliope spray,
and winding ways, yet hidden paths
lead unplanned course on stranger tracks.
By writing on the wall, theme changed.
Are letters so tight tracked in space,
the deficit in meaning spent?
Or parables entice, unknowns
inviting wrestle, struggle, squirms?
Does wisdom pose print erotemes?
___________________
Many thanks to all 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!
___________________
TRIPLE-F 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 was sent to us by Joyce Odam:
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.
And don’t forget every Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Narrow Escapes”.
______________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Big Wah: 6 lines (6 syllables each), 6 action verbs, 6 strengths-purposes (Joyce Odam)
•••Blank Verse: literarydevices.net/blank-verse AND/OR www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-the-difference-between-blank-verse-and-free-verse#quiz-0
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
•••Riddle Poem: poets.org/glossary/riddle
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Tango: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/tango
______________________
—Medusa, wishing you a safe and thoughtful Memorial Day weekend~
—Stephen Kingsnorth
So many, why, start verse with I ?
Experience may be known to me,
give reason further to explore,
but campanologist in tower,
climb ivory, or ring a bell?
Do words speak, franca, as streets find?
For some the Abba rhyme appeals—
as final Mamma Mia note,
the winner takes all, breathless throat,
fast dying strain, ghost harmony.
Some schemes, with weighed abandon, blank—
but does the metric measure dance,
sway words enhance sung melody?
Do vowels yawn, evoke a wow,
while consonants consent or bite?
Though prompted, observed image, phrase
the sparks of Calliope spray,
and winding ways, yet hidden paths
lead unplanned course on stranger tracks.
By writing on the wall, theme changed.
Are letters so tight tracked in space,
the deficit in meaning spent?
Or parables entice, unknowns
inviting wrestle, struggle, squirms?
Does wisdom pose print erotemes?
___________________
Many thanks to all 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!
___________________
TRIPLE-F 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 was sent to us by Joyce Odam:
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.
And don’t forget every Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Narrow Escapes”.
______________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Big Wah: 6 lines (6 syllables each), 6 action verbs, 6 strengths-purposes (Joyce Odam)
•••Blank Verse: literarydevices.net/blank-verse AND/OR www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-the-difference-between-blank-verse-and-free-verse#quiz-0
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
•••Riddle Poem: poets.org/glossary/riddle
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Tango: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/tango
______________________
—Medusa, wishing you a safe and thoughtful Memorial Day weekend~
Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
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.
LittleSnake loves poets, all of
whom are his treasures~!
whom are his treasures~!
