Latches
—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!
MEDITATION ON FUR
Latches keeps his black coat softly
to himself. He’s curled at ease in his self-
proclaimed kings-x, a box of fabric
scraps meant for the chilly linen closet,
but cat-jacked now for the warmest room
of the house. How could I displace
a black cat who keeps his fur
and meditations to himself? unlike
Loki the German Shedder Dog
I brush open-air, creating hair-storms
of nesting material for birds
in spring. A philanthropic dog, she
spreads her blessings at large. Her fur
goes windbound, as she sniffs
the latest airborne news from far away.
Who knows about dog meditations?
Latches keeps his black coat softly
to himself. He’s curled at ease in his self-
proclaimed kings-x, a box of fabric
scraps meant for the chilly linen closet,
but cat-jacked now for the warmest room
of the house. How could I displace
a black cat who keeps his fur
and meditations to himself? unlike
Loki the German Shedder Dog
I brush open-air, creating hair-storms
of nesting material for birds
in spring. A philanthropic dog, she
spreads her blessings at large. Her fur
goes windbound, as she sniffs
the latest airborne news from far away.
Who knows about dog meditations?
STILL LIFE WITH CAT
“Horses are obligate nose breathers,”
the internet instructs me, after
my decades of being horse-crazy.
Latches the black cat is not impressed,
wraps himself in feline nonchalance,
self-encircling in his hearth basket.
Dark corner of room, enlightenment
of internet not needed: He naps.
CAT TECH, MYTH AND I
He’s sphinx bending to sniff my nose
as I do my back exercises on the floor.
Satisfied that I’m His-Human, he rises
from Egyptian pose, turns his butt
tail-high to me—his signature posture
on Zoom, his feline point of contact
with the outside human world. Internet
informs me, my cat sniffs my nose
to recognize me into the future.
And just how old is the Sphinx?
He’s sphinx bending to sniff my nose
as I do my back exercises on the floor.
Satisfied that I’m His-Human, he rises
from Egyptian pose, turns his butt
tail-high to me—his signature posture
on Zoom, his feline point of contact
with the outside human world. Internet
informs me, my cat sniffs my nose
to recognize me into the future.
And just how old is the Sphinx?
SMALL-TOWN LIBRARY
It’s
cozy
as a cat
curled up sleeping
among the books
in this country biblio-trove
where the pages purr.
held on Saturday, 12/2)
HOLIDAY BAZAAR
A dancer dressed as Christmas tree
imagines moving like
a tree across the room on breeze riding
so each foot-bone shall be
a root for balance sole-on-soil
gliding.
OLD- (BUT GOOD) FASHIONED
That
touted
space heater
is not homey.
Let me light one
candle as our consolation
this chilly evening….
just one
half-burned candle
to light the dark corners
as we listen to the blessing
of rain.
Today’s LittleNip:
WOOD-BURNING STOVE
—Taylor Graham
Twigs and small branches I wove
in its innards, bed for the log—strike match—
good catch. Bless the old stove!
________________________
Cozy poems today from Taylor Graham: tales (tails!) of curled-up cats and rows of books and hints of holidays to come. Forms she has used today include a Welsh Englyn Byr Cwca (“Wood-Burning Stove”); some Normative Syllabics (“Still Life with Cat”); a Cadence, one of last week’s Triple-F Challenges (“Small-Town Library”); a poem that is a Cadence/Cinquain (“Old- [But Good] Fashioned”); and a Cinquetun, also a challenge from last week (“Holiday Bazaar”).
Tomorrow in Placerville, starting at 1pm, the International Human Rights Day Celebration will take place at Placerville Town Hall, 549 Main St., Placerville, CA featuring speakers, poetry, art, music and more. Poets include Indigo Moor, Lara Gularte, Rina Wakefield, Beatrice Pizer, Taylor Graham, and Irene Lipshin. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about this and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week. And for more info about El Dorado County poetry events, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/.
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!
This week, some of our Form Fiddlers chose to catch up on the challenges they had missed at Thanksgiving time. But first, here are some responses to last week’s Ekphrastic Challenge:
Last Week’s Ekphrastic Challenge
ARPEGGIO
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Do kick lift legs with costume drape,
enhance or hide what is intent,
without a guy or puppet strings,
a billow, pillow carving air?
This arc, described by measured skirt‚
how else her steps not trip, the light—
tells movement style not square or tap,
or danseur master tapping stick
and counting out each spaced-out pace
(though ‘Hit me with your rhythm stick’
was, rural rides my teen drive tune).
Designerware for ballet corps,
the whip of muslin, gauzy trace,
Terpsichore in goddess pose,
or Isadora, wheeling free—
I see a hint of Princess Di,
the dancer, photo, chiffon legs.
My weekly term-time exercise,
Parkinson’s Dance, a Zoom screen class,
combines the music with the moves,
a double dose of ignorance,
without the limb high arabesque.
Another art that passes me,
the scale, stave, score, arpeggio—
would understand but fail to see,
just as the framework, gallery.
My old-age study plans in shreds;
at least with words, familiar.
As blacksmiths, great-grandfathers shod,
their clods and sods an earth away
from dose of prancing on the stage.
A wordsmith, father, maybe son,
whose art suffices in mean time.
* * *
DANCER
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
She swoons to spotlights,
evanescent entrance, exit,
diaphanous dress,
a butterfly, buoyant,
floats across the floor.
* * *
Caschwa sent an Ekphrastic response which is also a Cadence, one of last week's Triple-F Challenges. Two challenges in one!
WHEN THE ALARM RINGS
WAY TOO EARLY
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
no
fire pole
to anchor
those boxer shorts
for arthritic
lower limbs to navigate through
ready for action
* * *
Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth sent poems in response to one of our earlier Ekphrastic Challenges:
SQUABBLING
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Scathing smacks
from words unspoken,
pass the salt
a call to battle.
Bickering birds too busy
squabbling over
what we’re missing,
what we’re owed,
to recall the reason
why we come together
once a year.
* * *
COMPANIONS
—Stephen Kingsnorth
The feast, roundtable, says it all—
though not the chat of mouthful spray,
my father’s warnings stay as laid—
for gruel, thin, or seven-course
it’s folk around, aperitif
of greeting, hugs of fellowship.
At home they left an empty seat,
the place reserved for missing guest—
religious friends imagined Christ,
but Mum thought more the refugee,
or stranger, alien—sanctuary
for whom no room found at the inn.
Perhaps the same, if alter steps
so holy find the ill at ease.
A tribal few, logged campfire flame,
apartment, city, dining room,
ingredients of commonwealth
where goodwill outshines everything—
that makes our feast companions,
those sharing bread as pilgrims, all.
* * *
And here’s one to the same photo from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz):
QUESTIONABLE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
guest list: done
will we need name tags?
wine list: done
will we need designated drivers?
menu: done
will we need to check allergies?
thank you’s: pending
who brought what?
those fancy plates
will we need to hand-wash?
* * *
Stephen sent a response to this recent Ekphrastic challenge:
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Scathing smacks
from words unspoken,
pass the salt
a call to battle.
Bickering birds too busy
squabbling over
what we’re missing,
what we’re owed,
to recall the reason
why we come together
once a year.
* * *
COMPANIONS
—Stephen Kingsnorth
The feast, roundtable, says it all—
though not the chat of mouthful spray,
my father’s warnings stay as laid—
for gruel, thin, or seven-course
it’s folk around, aperitif
of greeting, hugs of fellowship.
At home they left an empty seat,
the place reserved for missing guest—
religious friends imagined Christ,
but Mum thought more the refugee,
or stranger, alien—sanctuary
for whom no room found at the inn.
Perhaps the same, if alter steps
so holy find the ill at ease.
A tribal few, logged campfire flame,
apartment, city, dining room,
ingredients of commonwealth
where goodwill outshines everything—
that makes our feast companions,
those sharing bread as pilgrims, all.
* * *
And here’s one to the same photo from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz):
QUESTIONABLE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
guest list: done
will we need name tags?
wine list: done
will we need designated drivers?
menu: done
will we need to check allergies?
thank you’s: pending
who brought what?
those fancy plates
will we need to hand-wash?
* * *
Stephen sent a response to this recent Ekphrastic challenge:
SAND DEVILS?
—Stephen Kingsnorth
How are the contours of the dunes,
marked rise, fall of reshaping mounds,
lagoons and atolls, far away,
levels of sea with rising tide
of concern, will our globe retire,
our farewell to home planet fired?
These seeds, the crop, millennia,
of cracking rock, a winnow show,
red hillocks baked till stormed, reformed,
weed tumble, geological,
a sandpit box for wisps to play,
where maybe once sand-devils swayed.
Deserted, by the rôle of green,
a melting point, glass history,
this furnace traded, oven winds,
can gecko, meerkat, rattlesnake,
all make this habitat their home,
and thrive, grain-blasted, high-noon sun?
* * *
Another recent challenge was the Amphion. Here are two Amphions from Carl, who was particularly industrious in his catching-up:
—Stephen Kingsnorth
How are the contours of the dunes,
marked rise, fall of reshaping mounds,
lagoons and atolls, far away,
levels of sea with rising tide
of concern, will our globe retire,
our farewell to home planet fired?
These seeds, the crop, millennia,
of cracking rock, a winnow show,
red hillocks baked till stormed, reformed,
weed tumble, geological,
a sandpit box for wisps to play,
where maybe once sand-devils swayed.
Deserted, by the rôle of green,
a melting point, glass history,
this furnace traded, oven winds,
can gecko, meerkat, rattlesnake,
all make this habitat their home,
and thrive, grain-blasted, high-noon sun?
* * *
Another recent challenge was the Amphion. Here are two Amphions from Carl, who was particularly industrious in his catching-up:
OUT OF WARRANTY
—Caschwa
error messages on the dash
big words of fright
“check engine” light
it’s going to cost a ton of cash
alternator
now, not later
fix one problem, more will arise
all 4 tires due
replace with new
available funds, smaller size
* * *
LOSING IT
—Caschwa
lost all connections to the world
‘twas vertigo
and where’d it go?
rolled out the flag until unfurled
I felt the pot
the coffee’s hot
the calendar is in Chinese
it’s hard to read
which dates to heed
be gentle with me, pretty please
* * *
One of last week’s Triple-F Challenges was the Cinquetun. Here is one from Carl:
—Caschwa
lost all connections to the world
‘twas vertigo
and where’d it go?
rolled out the flag until unfurled
I felt the pot
the coffee’s hot
the calendar is in Chinese
it’s hard to read
which dates to heed
be gentle with me, pretty please
* * *
One of last week’s Triple-F Challenges was the Cinquetun. Here is one from Carl:
WUTTEPHER
—Caschwa
getting through all the holidays
and birthdays and odd stuff
crammed to fit together high on the shelf
and we must bestow praise
on that greatest role model, a
mere elf
* * *
Another earlier challenge was the Swap Quatrain:
—Caschwa
getting through all the holidays
and birthdays and odd stuff
crammed to fit together high on the shelf
and we must bestow praise
on that greatest role model, a
mere elf
* * *
Another earlier challenge was the Swap Quatrain:
DETENTION
—Caschwa
I’m covered with dust, this is why
wiped clean the slate from low to high
will never earn the teacher’s trust
this is why I’m covered with dust
I didn’t tell all that I knew
or know for sure that it was true
just played it safe, that is full well
all that I knew, I didn’t tell
enlightenment, the gift of God
comes easier if you eat cod:
an old wives’ tale, told by a gent
the gift of God, enlightenment
* * *
Our Ars Poetica this week also comes from Caschwa: Metaphor, Metaphive… get it?
—Caschwa
I’m covered with dust, this is why
wiped clean the slate from low to high
will never earn the teacher’s trust
this is why I’m covered with dust
I didn’t tell all that I knew
or know for sure that it was true
just played it safe, that is full well
all that I knew, I didn’t tell
enlightenment, the gift of God
comes easier if you eat cod:
an old wives’ tale, told by a gent
the gift of God, enlightenment
* * *
Our Ars Poetica this week also comes from Caschwa: Metaphor, Metaphive… get it?
METAPHIVE
—Caschwa
If a person can sometimes
be a chair, then other times
they could be a
heel, beach, rock, snake,
pawn, witch, angel, blessing,
thorn, or a doll
If a letter is sometimes issued
from the desk, then other times
it could be issued from the
floor, bar stool, commode,
chewing bum under the seat,
ebb, tide, tail pipe, moon,
bottom of my heart, or the
bottom of the pot
* * *
And here is a charming little Cinquain from Claire Baker, with lots of alliteration:
—Caschwa
If a person can sometimes
be a chair, then other times
they could be a
heel, beach, rock, snake,
pawn, witch, angel, blessing,
thorn, or a doll
If a letter is sometimes issued
from the desk, then other times
it could be issued from the
floor, bar stool, commode,
chewing bum under the seat,
ebb, tide, tail pipe, moon,
bottom of my heart, or the
bottom of the pot
* * *
And here is a charming little Cinquain from Claire Baker, with lots of alliteration:
Moonflower
A FANTASY STROLL
ON A FAIR EVENING
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
We fly
the fresh full moon
flower with a long stem
so freely frisking up against
our hands.
___________________
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!
ON A FAIR EVENING
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
We fly
the fresh full moon
flower with a long stem
so freely frisking up against
our hands.
___________________
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!
•••Cromorna: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
AND/OR in the same resource, scroll down to something thoughtful for the season, The Hautt:
•••The Hautt: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
AND/OR the simple little For-Get-Me-Not:
•••For-Get-Me-Not: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••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 “Man’s Best Friend”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Amphion: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/amphion
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Cadence: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Cinquain: poets.org/glossary/cinquain AND/OR www.poewar.com/poetry-in-forms-series-cinquain/. See www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/adelaide-crapsey for info about its inventor, Adelaide Crapsey.
•••Cinquetun: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Cromorna: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Englyn Byr Cwca: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/englyn-byr-cwca-poetic-forms
•••For-Get-Me-Not: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••The Hautt: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Swap Quatrain: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/swapquatrain.html
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.)
***
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
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.
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
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.
the crafty Cromorna!
