—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!
HENHOUSE DRAMA
Her seven sisters all are dead,
vanished night by day. Now we dread
to lose our last chick. To what foe? What killed
them? Build fort tall and low.
She lives on bugs and ants, she larks all day
and plays tricks on my arm.
I fortify her world, she leaps
on my hammer, sings joy in cheeps.
Her seven sisters all are dead,
vanished night by day. Now we dread
to lose our last chick. To what foe? What killed
them? Build fort tall and low.
She lives on bugs and ants, she larks all day
and plays tricks on my arm.
I fortify her world, she leaps
on my hammer, sings joy in cheeps.
WATER & TRASH
We walk the creekside
as water, sky tide
in their age-old appointed ways.
I’ve got my bucket, trash-picker,
and gloves; let nothing slip my gaze.
A cigarette butt,
a who-could-say-what
this muddy-drenched cloth once had been;
and bits of silver foil flicker
among fallen-gold leaves that spin
in current, and go
where trash mustn’t flow.
We walk the creekside
as water, sky tide
in their age-old appointed ways.
I’ve got my bucket, trash-picker,
and gloves; let nothing slip my gaze.
A cigarette butt,
a who-could-say-what
this muddy-drenched cloth once had been;
and bits of silver foil flicker
among fallen-gold leaves that spin
in current, and go
where trash mustn’t flow.
IN TIME OF DROUGHT
Water’s getting low in the deck-dish. Water
for wild turkeys, and songbirds who peck seed
from the hanging feeder. And ground squirrels?
Those tunnellers of our land, raiders
of henhouse and garden. How we’ve tried to get rid
of them! They won. No more chickens, no more
vegetable garden. Now look at that brazen
creature drinking bird-water. So close,
just outside the sliding glass door.
Look at the gradations of brown-tones on its fur,
the faint speckling of stars. Look how thirsty
in this drought. How many times I’ve
chased the beggars away from fallen birdseed.
But water? My head curses Ground
Squirrel. My eyes just see thirsty creature.
Water’s getting low in the deck-dish. Water
for wild turkeys, and songbirds who peck seed
from the hanging feeder. And ground squirrels?
Those tunnellers of our land, raiders
of henhouse and garden. How we’ve tried to get rid
of them! They won. No more chickens, no more
vegetable garden. Now look at that brazen
creature drinking bird-water. So close,
just outside the sliding glass door.
Look at the gradations of brown-tones on its fur,
the faint speckling of stars. Look how thirsty
in this drought. How many times I’ve
chased the beggars away from fallen birdseed.
But water? My head curses Ground
Squirrel. My eyes just see thirsty creature.
DO TURKEY VULTURES VOCALIZE?
Two sit motionless
in oaks above the swale—what’s dead?
Birds silent as death
under still, gray summer sky
still they sit, waiting.
Two sit motionless
in oaks above the swale—what’s dead?
Birds silent as death
under still, gray summer sky
still they sit, waiting.
LIVE OAK & TREE-MAN
Does he feel the oak’s distress as the logger’s
chainsaw begins its cut, the quick kerf through ring
upon ring, the drought and rainy years?
Oak tree many times older than he is. See the blood-
red sleeve under its bark—a fungus like cancer.
This oak might be ready to fall of its own
life’s weight. Live oak is a weed, he says; no doubt
some professor’s quip but he took it to memory
if not to heart. This tree triage is the toughest part
of his job. I love them all. They breathe for us,
how everything’s connected. But he knows
when it’s time for this one to go, for the forest’s
sake, so its fall won’t spark wildfire. Look at all these
homes (like mine) living among the trees.
Does he feel the oak’s distress as the logger’s
chainsaw begins its cut, the quick kerf through ring
upon ring, the drought and rainy years?
Oak tree many times older than he is. See the blood-
red sleeve under its bark—a fungus like cancer.
This oak might be ready to fall of its own
life’s weight. Live oak is a weed, he says; no doubt
some professor’s quip but he took it to memory
if not to heart. This tree triage is the toughest part
of his job. I love them all. They breathe for us,
how everything’s connected. But he knows
when it’s time for this one to go, for the forest’s
sake, so its fall won’t spark wildfire. Look at all these
homes (like mine) living among the trees.
AUTUMN’S Edge
Always the shortening of light
Unmagnified by urban wattage.
The oaks tarnish with dying leaves.
Under leaf-fall and rot, Earth
Magically slips toward sleep, dreams.
Now is the slanting blade of light.
Always the shortening of light
Unmagnified by urban wattage.
The oaks tarnish with dying leaves.
Under leaf-fall and rot, Earth
Magically slips toward sleep, dreams.
Now is the slanting blade of light.
Today’s LittleNip:
PO-COOKERY
—Taylor Graham
What’s with Medusa’s Kitchen?
The stew is bubblin’, itchin’—
so grab a spoon & pitch in!
A pantoum or a sonnet,
sestina on a bonnet,
an etheree or nonet…
Each word is savory spice
maybe fiery, maybe nice;
a good smart shake should suffice.
Come join the feast. Guest or cook,
have a taste, a sniff, a look—
starters for many a book!
_______________________
Skies are clearing up here, making way (and making safe!) for more poetry from Taylor Graham—and we give thanks for that! Forms that TG has sent us today include a Byr a Toddaid, our Triple-F Challenge last week (“Henhouse Drama”); an Englyn Milwr (“Po-Cookery”); an Acrostic (“AUTUMN's Edge”); and a Wavelet, last week’s other Triple-F Challenge (“Water & Trash”).
Placerville read-arounds are back! Taylor Graham writes:
“Our two monthly read-arounds at Placerville Senior Center went on hiatus for Covid; now, 31 months later, they’re scheduled to resume:
•••Poetic License: 2nd Monday of the month at 10:30am [next one is 10/10]
•••Poetry in Motion: 3rd Monday, also at 10:30am [next one is 10/17]
Help us celebrate the re-openings on October 10 and 17, respectively! We’ll sit around the table in the Game Room and take turns sharing poetry. Bring poems to read—your own or someone else’s—or just come as audience. Placerville Senior Center, 937 Spring St, Placerville, CA (entrance off Tunnel St.). Check in at the front desk; masks are optional.”
Also in Placerville, happening this weekend: tonight, 5pm, a reading and reception by visiting writer Leslie Kirk Campbell at the Green Room Social Club. Leslie will present a workshop tomorrow morning; then there will be the monthly Poetry of the Sierra Foothills reading at 2pm. Both of these events will take place at Myrtle Tree Arts. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.
And now it’s time for . . .
Form Fiddler’s Friday!
PO-COOKERY
—Taylor Graham
What’s with Medusa’s Kitchen?
The stew is bubblin’, itchin’—
so grab a spoon & pitch in!
A pantoum or a sonnet,
sestina on a bonnet,
an etheree or nonet…
Each word is savory spice
maybe fiery, maybe nice;
a good smart shake should suffice.
Come join the feast. Guest or cook,
have a taste, a sniff, a look—
starters for many a book!
_______________________
Skies are clearing up here, making way (and making safe!) for more poetry from Taylor Graham—and we give thanks for that! Forms that TG has sent us today include a Byr a Toddaid, our Triple-F Challenge last week (“Henhouse Drama”); an Englyn Milwr (“Po-Cookery”); an Acrostic (“AUTUMN's Edge”); and a Wavelet, last week’s other Triple-F Challenge (“Water & Trash”).
Placerville read-arounds are back! Taylor Graham writes:
“Our two monthly read-arounds at Placerville Senior Center went on hiatus for Covid; now, 31 months later, they’re scheduled to resume:
•••Poetic License: 2nd Monday of the month at 10:30am [next one is 10/10]
•••Poetry in Motion: 3rd Monday, also at 10:30am [next one is 10/17]
Help us celebrate the re-openings on October 10 and 17, respectively! We’ll sit around the table in the Game Room and take turns sharing poetry. Bring poems to read—your own or someone else’s—or just come as audience. Placerville Senior Center, 937 Spring St, Placerville, CA (entrance off Tunnel St.). Check in at the front desk; masks are optional.”
Also in Placerville, happening this weekend: tonight, 5pm, a reading and reception by visiting writer Leslie Kirk Campbell at the Green Room Social Club. Leslie will present a workshop tomorrow morning; then there will be the monthly Poetry of the Sierra Foothills reading at 2pm. Both of these events will take place at Myrtle Tree Arts. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area.
And now it’s time for . . .
Form Fiddler’s Friday!
It’s time for more contributions from Form Fiddlers, in addition to those sent to us by Taylor Graham. Each Friday, there will be poems posted here from our readers using forms—either ones which were sent to 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 challenges. Whaddaya got to lose… If you send ‘em, I’ll post ‘em! (See Medusa’s Form Finder at the end of this post for resources and for links to poetry terms used in today’s post.)
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!
Last Week’s Ekphrastic Challenge
So sweet, his sister
baked for him
a honey walnut cake.
Except she mixed in sand
and clay and lime
to help it keep its shape.
Now he has a brick to add
to all the cakes she made.
He’ll frost each one with mortar
and build a birthday wall
to confine time so it can’t run,
and stay this age forever.
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
* * *
INBUILT FAULT
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Was it a loophole for some tax,
a pointing to injustice faced—
a window frame or stepless door,
an income shut, no welcome mat?
Was it legend, here bricked up,
offender who disturbed the peace?
Maybe just a honeyed trap,
a photo op from tourist board?
Lintel, sill, and jamb tomorrow,
mixed pockmarked plaster, mortar cast,
is the base black soot or damping,
so are foundations sound, secure?
Here’s a wall awaiting mural,
blank canvas for a parable,
to incorporate that doorway;
let’s try Banksy, make way for him.
His art, take the full advantage
of rough-cut patch, that inbuilt fault,
error turned into a statement,
the question mark that we avoid?
How would he supplant the image,
the water turning into wine,
tired dry site of desolation,
metamorphosing, his design?
He the prophet—read the master,
for his the writing on the wall—
graffiti signs of well-honed wisdom
absorbed by those alert to see.
* * *
ROOM SWEET ROOM
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
it was the nation’s bicentennial!
private bus lines offered terrific
deals for $76, unlimited miles
I was then single and unattached
so I packed my bag and rode out
of Southern California on my journey
to explore America
stayed a few days in downtown
Las Vegas to sop up all the glitz,
glamor, slots, food, shows, etc. and
signed into a modest hotel room kind
of in the center of all the attractions
put my few clothes away, and set
about to open the “window” to enjoy
the view…this was decades before I
had ever heard of Medusa’s Kitchen
Blogspot or Form Fiddlers Friday, or
the whole world of Ekphrastic poetry
little did I know when I opened that
“window” it would be exactly the
Friday, September 16, 2022 Ekphrastic
Challenge image that was the full and
total view from my hotel room, less
than 3 feet away from my “window”
* * *
Next, a wee Byn a Thoddaid from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz). Taylor Graham says the Welsh must “breathe rhyme”, given the complexities of their forms. One could almost say that their poems are heavily "salted" by them:
NOT QUITE RIGHT
—Caschwa
I didn’t mean to ruin your whole day,
just buy spice from the store
it was Himalayan pink salt
the wrong grain, my bad and my guilt
* * *
Carl’s next poem is four quatrains, with abab, cdcd, efef, ghgh rhyme in iambic pentameter, alternating 8 and 6 syllables. He says it looked and sounded like a form he’d heard before, but he couldn’t pin down a name for it. Wherefore it shall remain nameless:
—Caschwa
I didn’t mean to ruin your whole day,
just buy spice from the store
it was Himalayan pink salt
the wrong grain, my bad and my guilt
* * *
Carl’s next poem is four quatrains, with abab, cdcd, efef, ghgh rhyme in iambic pentameter, alternating 8 and 6 syllables. He says it looked and sounded like a form he’d heard before, but he couldn’t pin down a name for it. Wherefore it shall remain nameless:
FULL OF IT
—Caschwa
the lonely king had fifty wives
one each for every whim
except that these fine properties
shared no true love with him
they stood before the palace walls
parading toys of sex
and he would yield to nature’s calls
no worry or perplex
on each new day the sun would rise
and he would make a choice
content with just his own advice
his was the only voice
until the day he grew too old
to quite perform the act
much fresher blood stood tall and bold
the king was duly sacked
• • •
Here’s an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth about our writing tools—those pesky letters that fly all over the page. Well, they’re what we have, after all; better use ‘em right! (Or is that “write”…?)
—Caschwa
the lonely king had fifty wives
one each for every whim
except that these fine properties
shared no true love with him
they stood before the palace walls
parading toys of sex
and he would yield to nature’s calls
no worry or perplex
on each new day the sun would rise
and he would make a choice
content with just his own advice
his was the only voice
until the day he grew too old
to quite perform the act
much fresher blood stood tall and bold
the king was duly sacked
• • •
Here’s an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth about our writing tools—those pesky letters that fly all over the page. Well, they’re what we have, after all; better use ‘em right! (Or is that “write”…?)
LETTER CLOUD
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Avoid the a, indefinite,
b sets off soliloquy;
curly c or kicking k,
deploy a d—e’s everywhere.
F too loud at forté plus,
g, half a horse, betting slip;
as hotel hushed, accent dropped,
an I can be a complement.
The j walks unexpectedly—
k’s still kicking, as before—
l for lift off from the page,
both m and n with ampersand.
O for open, mouthed wide surprise,
p when quiet in the score,
q the queue, but who’s alone?
r when plurals, are complements.
S comes hissing if snake repeats,
t defines where a amiss,
u companion, sharing bread,
v sign view, victory or rude.
W’s lazy—why not new?
x equates unknown, kiss, more,
y is what so many ask,
z when we’re just too tired to think.
and snoring proves more forty winks.
* * *
And another Ars Poetica, this one from Mary McGrath. She ends it with the most important consideration of all: What do I have to say?
How about you? Do you want to get serious? Like Taylor Graham says, "grab a spoon & pitch in!"
DO I WANT TO GET SERIOUS?
—Mary McGrath, Sacramento, CA
I begin with the accessible:
imagery, figurative language.
I could use texture, simile,
metaphor, personification,
allusion and universal image.
WOW.
How about syntax, diction, tone and voice,
formal, prose, simple, lyric or narrative?
Or negative capability (O Keats).
Maybe bad.... inappropriate language,
diction, the cliché, inversion,
informational language.
Some Given Forms.
Metrical verse, rhyming schemes.
YIKES.
The Sonnet...
Couplet, triplet, quatrain, terza rima,
Spenserian stanza.
abab, efef..
Syllabic verse, free verse,
Tone and Content.
Metrical lines, rhythms and symbols,
iamb and feet from monometer to
octometer plus the stresses of
spondee, trochee or dactyl.
Must also mention the sounds.
Alliteration, assonance, onomatopoeia,
semivowels and mutes.
Now, what did I have to say?
—Mary McGrath, Sacramento, CA
I begin with the accessible:
imagery, figurative language.
I could use texture, simile,
metaphor, personification,
allusion and universal image.
WOW.
How about syntax, diction, tone and voice,
formal, prose, simple, lyric or narrative?
Or negative capability (O Keats).
Maybe bad.... inappropriate language,
diction, the cliché, inversion,
informational language.
Some Given Forms.
Metrical verse, rhyming schemes.
YIKES.
The Sonnet...
Couplet, triplet, quatrain, terza rima,
Spenserian stanza.
abab, efef..
Syllabic verse, free verse,
Tone and Content.
Metrical lines, rhythms and symbols,
iamb and feet from monometer to
octometer plus the stresses of
spondee, trochee or dactyl.
Must also mention the sounds.
Alliteration, assonance, onomatopoeia,
semivowels and mutes.
Now, what did I have to say?
____________________
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!
____________________
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!
____________________
TRIPLE-F CHALLENGES!
See what you can make of this week’s poetry forms, and send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.)
•••Laurenelle: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lauranelle.html
And/or you could try one of the easier Welsh forms:
•••Cyhydedd Fer: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cyhydedd-fer-poetic-forms
•••See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic Photo.
•••And don’t forget each Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Curiosity”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Acrostic: literarydevices.net/acrostic
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Byr a Thoddaid: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/byr-a-thoddaid-poetic-form
•••Cyhydedd Fer: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cyhydedd-fer-poetic-forms
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Englyn Milwr: Welsh form: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/englyn-milwr-poetic-forms
•••Iambic Pentameter: www.nosweatshakespeare.com/sonnets/iambic-pentameter
•••Laurenelle: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lauranelle.html
•••Quatrain: www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-a-quatrain-in-poetry-quatrain-definition-with-examples
•••Wavelet: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/wavelet
For more about meter, see:
•••www.studiobinder.com/blog/what-is-iambic-pentameter-definition-literature •••www.pandorapost.com/2021/05/examples-of-iambic-pentameter-tetrameter-and-trimeter-in-poetry.html
•••nosweatshakespeare.com/sonnets/iambic-pentameter
•••www.thoughtco.com/introducing-iambic-pentameter-2985082
•••www.nfi.edu/iambic-pentameter
____________________
—Medusa
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
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
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.
