(Somebody should feed that cat…)
—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—Then scroll down to Form Fiddlers’ Friday
for poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Claire J. Baker, Joe Nolan, and Caschwa
Placerville, CA
—Then scroll down to Form Fiddlers’ Friday
for poetry by Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Claire J. Baker, Joe Nolan, and Caschwa
WINTER ARS POETICA
Poetic spark may warm
the soul but the body begs
for kindling, old crumpled news-
papers, cord—think heart—wood
split by axe and muscle of a man
needing work. Get rid of last winter’s
ashes in the woodstove, make
way for another winter, for fire’s
light in growing dark of the year.
The flame that flickers then flares
may start a poem, but fingers
must be warm enough
to write it down.
Poetic spark may warm
the soul but the body begs
for kindling, old crumpled news-
papers, cord—think heart—wood
split by axe and muscle of a man
needing work. Get rid of last winter’s
ashes in the woodstove, make
way for another winter, for fire’s
light in growing dark of the year.
The flame that flickers then flares
may start a poem, but fingers
must be warm enough
to write it down.
OUT OF THE DARKNESS
Three a.m. What woke me
hours before dawn,
calling—calling—calling.
I couldn’t understand who
it was calling. A chill
in the voice like night air
when I slid the window
slightly ajar
to hear better.
Don’t dare
open the door,
the cat might get out.
Dog is nose against glass,
listening. Who
does it want? Who, Hoo?
NEIGHBORING TRADITIONS
Downtown’s decked out for Halloween
& Día de los Muertos. Here, jack-o-lantern
& a happy ghost converse with sugar skulls
to honor friends and family passed on.
I stand before a shopfront window admiring
the display, as my dog sniffs sidewalk
remains—scent of dogs & humans passing,
gone now Our peaceful morning walk,
October ending with festivals of spooks &
spirits, and offerings for the dead. Shop-
fronts gay with neighborly traditions
at ease together, for now, in our downtown
heart of commerce & community.
OCTOBER’S DARK BIRD
Walking Main Street with my dog, window-
shopping goblins, witches, offerings for the dead—
trick-or-treat goodies (cookies, no cheesecake),
sugar skulls and marigolds…. A dark croak—
flimflam bird of poetry, Raven Nevermore. This one
lands atop Oddfellows hall; from roof’s edge
looking down at landscape of our wingless town.
What makes me turn up the alley above Main?
It’s October chill and damp up there, where a man
sits on a low rock wall with his pack. Homeless?
He doesn’t respond to good morning; seems
not to want to talk so we move on. Somewhere
unseen a Raven calls. Loud, persistent. Shuffling
of dark feathers, rising from a pine, a U-turn
over the man, it disappears. What should
I have done? What generosity escaped me?
What Nevermore quoth the Raven?
APEX TRAIL
This so-familiar trail at edge of town
we’ve walked from blooming time till now—
from icy crust to swelter sky unquenched
by shade, and now the falling of the leaves,
a damp that can’t be fathomed by the slant
of sun. We’ve watched the walkers come & go
as we do, too, as Nature goes about
her business, life and death, the vultures’ feast,
a warbler’s song of grace, the raven’s chant
we humans translate into Nevermore.
And yet the trail begins and ends as we
expect it, something new and something old,
while fall delves deep into the roots, to grow,
and wonder bides in places we well know.
GREEN WILLOW SONG
The earth’s still damp from yester rain,
the blessing throbbing through each vein
of liveoak leaf and cottonwood.
Where last week dusty willow stood,
just see the vibrant verdure as if spring’s domain.
I’ve never known the willows gay
and dancing as they are today,
and one white moth now flutters near
as if to bring a message clear:
Be glad with us and pray that this new greening stay.
Today’s LittleNip:
OUTDOOR SETTING
—Taylor Graham
It’s all disposable, the cups,
the plates, the plastic-ware, the noon,
the fresh air, and the just-cut leaves,
harvest of a moment.
______________________
Our thanks to Taylor Graham for today’s fine poetry as we wrap up the season of Halloween/Día de los Muertos and move into November. Forms she has used this week include a Ryūka that is also based on last week’s Ekphrastic photo (“Outdoor Setting”); a Florette #2 (“Green Willow Song”); a Smith Sonnet (“Apex Trail”); and an Ars Poetica (“Winter Ars Poetica”). The Florette #2 and the Smith Sonnet were last week’s Triple-F Challenges.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, there will be An Evening of Poetry & Prose at the Cameron Park Library next Thursday, starting at 5:30pm, and featuring Beatrice Pizer and Sue McMahon plus open mic. For details about this event, and news about El Dorado County poetry, past (photos!) and future, see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/.
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
There’s also a 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 Photo
In addition to Taylor Graham’s Ryūka [above], we received responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo from Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth:
FEASTING
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
At autumn outdoor picnic feast,
the last one of the year,
the squirrels and ants load up on plants
to get them through the winter chill.
* * *
SUBMARINE STEWARDS
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Invited to The Mess to eat,
our steward led us through the ship,
found poly—plastic, styrene, straws,
yet all aboard, set final course
of chunky cheddar, edam, cream,
delicious, monstrous, fine Swiss cheese.
All prearranged on table leaves,
as sample—we should eat our greens?
yet there’s so much disposable,
but outlasts bin, won’t disappear,
the cast offs, lines thrown overboard,
now turtle necks, nets webbing legs.
Amongst blue buckets, spades, the strand,
where castles in the air were built,
they left their rubbish on the beach,
so fish fins pre-wrapped cellophane,
and gull beak throats gulp screw-top blocks,
their mouths agape, like dying fish.
Taut nylon lines, left crabby kids,
secure round bills of guillemots,
while lobster pots wrapped dolphin snouts,
mouths muzzled, seals hung walrus tusks,
old lifebelts, pumps, piled rubber soles,
above the line of plimsoll white.
Those deck chairs leading stripy tails
amongst bright phosphorescence trails,
gas cannisters, exhausted fuel,
spent clinker from cold coal-fired grates,
the jet black of a gloopy leak,
oil rainbow slicks which crest surf waves.
What is this star, fish in the shoals—
between the horses, hanging on—
a golden wand, stage make-believe,
the fairy godmother shook up,
who tipped her ferry props from deck
and thought it would magic away?
What is the nett worth of the seas—
a tin of tuna, canned sardines,
some effluent from cruise above,
the plastic shells of bottled milk,
lost poison barrels, overboard,
reefs rising, coral lily beds?
There is so much that’s submarine—
not needed by whale calves or cows,
beneath the waves, quayside farewells,
those jetty flutters of the heart;
goodbye to those set sail, high seas,
though soon that height will reach our knees.
* * *
Here is a Cinquain from Claire Baker:
THE STUFF OF MYTHOLOGY?
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
What did
man-in-the-moon
do after Neil, the proud,
had walked on his roof & never
tumbled?
* * *
This poem from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) is based on our recent Tuesday Seed of the Week, Out of the Darkness:
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
What did
man-in-the-moon
do after Neil, the proud,
had walked on his roof & never
tumbled?
* * *
This poem from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) is based on our recent Tuesday Seed of the Week, Out of the Darkness:
HIDDEN FEES
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Had an early morning
paper route, seven days
a week, all year long,
had to have a car that was
in capable working order each
morning, with gasoline, oil,
grease, other fluids, plus title,
license, and insurance
Used to be I could walk into
my local bank and if I wanted
to see an officer, not a teller,
they simply had a list at the
front of the lobby where one
could write their name, and
they’d call names in order.
Last visit they only had
a QR code one could scan,
presuming one had a smart
phone, to sign up for an
appointment. This means
one had to bring a Smart phone,
maintain an active subscription,
and have duly performed all the
latest updates. When I tried
scanning the QR code my Smart
Phone told me there was a
problem connecting with the
internet, so I had to wait in line
to see a teller, who had to
summon others to help me.
Boomer speaking here
I hate points!! My bills are paid
with real money whether cash,
credit, or other US dollars and
cents, no points; If you owe the
government or have to post bond,
whether just a parking ticket, or
to remedy major tax discrepancies,
or for wearing waxed disco panties,
they don’t take points!
Then you look at the small print
and see that those enormous
tallies of all the points one has
earned equal out to at most 1%
of that figure in dollars and cents
* * *
Joe Nolan sent a poem based on a recent Tuesday Seed of the Week, Fear:
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Had an early morning
paper route, seven days
a week, all year long,
had to have a car that was
in capable working order each
morning, with gasoline, oil,
grease, other fluids, plus title,
license, and insurance
Used to be I could walk into
my local bank and if I wanted
to see an officer, not a teller,
they simply had a list at the
front of the lobby where one
could write their name, and
they’d call names in order.
Last visit they only had
a QR code one could scan,
presuming one had a smart
phone, to sign up for an
appointment. This means
one had to bring a Smart phone,
maintain an active subscription,
and have duly performed all the
latest updates. When I tried
scanning the QR code my Smart
Phone told me there was a
problem connecting with the
internet, so I had to wait in line
to see a teller, who had to
summon others to help me.
Boomer speaking here
I hate points!! My bills are paid
with real money whether cash,
credit, or other US dollars and
cents, no points; If you owe the
government or have to post bond,
whether just a parking ticket, or
to remedy major tax discrepancies,
or for wearing waxed disco panties,
they don’t take points!
Then you look at the small print
and see that those enormous
tallies of all the points one has
earned equal out to at most 1%
of that figure in dollars and cents
* * *
Joe Nolan sent a poem based on a recent Tuesday Seed of the Week, Fear:
ON THE WHISPER OF EACH BREATH
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
There is death
Hanging on the whisper
Of each breath.
Earth is near,
Beneath our feet—
The final resting place
Of our fear.
We never listen,
Seldom hear,
Repeat the same mistakes
From year to year.
What of the children
We hold dear,
Who suffer
Without understanding—
A world gone mad—
Become a killing field?
* * *
And here are some post-Halloween thoughts from Carl Schwartz, also based on the Fear SOW:
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
There is death
Hanging on the whisper
Of each breath.
Earth is near,
Beneath our feet—
The final resting place
Of our fear.
We never listen,
Seldom hear,
Repeat the same mistakes
From year to year.
What of the children
We hold dear,
Who suffer
Without understanding—
A world gone mad—
Become a killing field?
* * *
And here are some post-Halloween thoughts from Carl Schwartz, also based on the Fear SOW:
TOO SPOOKY
—Caschwa
Oakhollow leaves
gather on All
Hallow’s Eve
good children in
the neighborhood
gone to parties
last year our front
door ready to face
masks to abhor
no callers, the menu
was to be escorted
to a supervised venue
this year porch light
out, no candy delight
but there’s an instead
money that would have
been spent on candy
and designs will be sent
to a charity that helps
helpless kids kick
demons all year long
____________________
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!
•••Analogue: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/analogue
•••AND/OR the American 767, which has to have a bug in it (!):
•••American 767: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/3223
•••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 “Where Am I Going?”
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••American 767: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/3223
•••Analogue: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/analogue
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••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.
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Florette #2: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/florette2.html
•••Iambic Pentameter: https://www.britannica.com/art/iambic-pentameter
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Smith Sonnet: 14 lines, 5-ft. (pentameter), unrhymed except for final couplet
____________________
—Medusa
Path to Enlightenment
Point Lobos State Nature Reserve,
Northern California
Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
Make what you can of today's
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Public Domain Photo
Make what you can of today's
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Public Domain Photo
A reminder that
California State Poet Laureate Lee Herrick
will be reading tonight at the
Sacramento Poetry Center, 7pm; and
Escritores del Nuevo Sol features
An Evening of Poetry and Stories
in Spanish, also in Sacramento, 7pm.
For info about these and other
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
California State Poet Laureate Lee Herrick
will be reading tonight at the
Sacramento Poetry Center, 7pm; and
Escritores del Nuevo Sol features
An Evening of Poetry and Stories
in Spanish, also in Sacramento, 7pm.
For info about these and other
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
to find the date you want.
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today)
craaack…!
careless driver
(cellphone)
knocks over
neighbor’s
lawn doo-dad—
oops—sorry…
lawn doo-dad—
oops—sorry…
