Come Fly With Us!

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Melissa Lemay, Nolcha Fox,

Stephen Kingsnorth, and Caschwa

 

WELL SEASONED

You’re bringing in firewood from storms
three years ago and last year, heaps of split oak
seasoned and ready for the woodstove.
Plenty to last you a winter or more.
More rounds waiting for your woodcutter’s
splitter—live-oaks just broken off head-high
not in storm, but of their own weight.
You keep some slash piles for quail, towhee,
and others needing shelter and cover.
Was it drought that killed those live-oaks
within weeks of each other? We sure need rain.
In all your years here, you’ve never seen
the land so dry in fall. Years well-
seasoned, you still bring in the firewood. 

 

 

 

LEFTOVERS

A dirt side-path off the main paved trail— 


why did I choose that path on an icy
fall morning? Beyond some homeless trash,


a one-man tent, blue. Someone’s refuge
from rain and cold. And propped against
the tent, hand-written on a piece
of white cardboard: “you steal from me
and I swear I cut off your finger” 


with carefully drawn index digit and sad face. 


Not far from the blue tent, a pair
of blue gloves in good condition, placed
side by side, holding nothing. 


Next day the tent was gone, gloves
still in place, ten fingers pointing at the sign
lying flat on the ground. What stories 


a pair of gloves might tell. And over it all,
the rosy fingered dawn of a new day.

 

 

 

SONG OF THE HOMELESS DOGS

Heard across the fence
of the animal shelter—
barks and yips and howls
and a u-u come-hither
plaint as we walk past,
Otis my rescue
dog and I. Need I explain
to a dog rehomed
so many times already
that what the dogs want
is their own forever-home
and someone to walk
them on the free and wooded
path beyond their fence?
That is the gist of their bark-
yip-&–howling song
I write now in poem form
for someone to read
and take the song to heart, choose
a dog and sing the response. 

 

 

 

 

NO REFUGE HERE
Dec. 4, strip mall

It’s Bargain Week, doors opening
amidst earthmovers, cherry-pickers—
construction of even bigger stores.

My dog on loose-lead leads me
past loading docks, then stops—
among crates, a mummy’d squirrel.

Where I buy wiper blades
is cordoned off: Do Not Disturb,
Fire Case Analysis.

Supermarket parking lot—
young pines hogtied in bundles
lest they try a forest escape.

Overhead, skein after skein
wild geese on a rising vector
calling “come fly with us!”

I have no business here,
I’m only walking my dog
before things get really hectic. 

 

 

 

 

DETECTING THE UNSEEN
at the Fairgrounds

Across the arena fence, a man
with metal detector slowly methodically
searches for dimes, quarters, rings.

On this side of the fence, my dog
slowly diligently scans with his nose
for leftover scents of dog, squirrel, deer.

What instruments of science, a poem. 

 

 

 

 

EFFULGENT: A DEFINITION

How to capture this sun-up
so brief it’s gone almost before
I aim my camera,
and all I get is a blinding blur.
And the moment is gone
like all beautiful things in motion.
Words persist. Dazzling,
luminous, radiant.
And coming toward me
on the trail, a stranger simply
walking with a joyful
step and peaceful,
all-encompassing smile. 

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

LEAVES ON THE WATER
—Taylor Graham

Creek’s hardly flowing,
fallen leaves float
undrifting,
awaiting
rain.

_____________________________

Happy Lucky Friday the 13th! We are always fortunate enough on Fridays to be visited by Fine-and-Fancy Fiddler Taylor Graham (and her sidekick, Otis)—and that’s a privilege, indeed!

Forms TG has sent this week include a Choka (“Song of the Homeless Dogs”); a Sevenling (“Detecting the Unseen”); a Triversen (“No Refuge Here”); a Definition Poem (“Effulgence: A Definition”); and a Diminuendo (“Leaves on the Water”). The Diminuendo was one of our Triple-F Challenges, and our Tuesday Seed of the Week was “Refuge”.

In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, Poetry in Motion will meet in Placerville on Monday, 12/16, and El Dorado County’s regular workshops are listed on Medusa’s calendar if you scroll down on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html/. For more news about EDC poetry—past (photos!) and future—see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado Poetry on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Or see Lara Gularte’s Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/382234029968077/. And you can always click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html/). Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!  

Speaking of Lara Gularte, she is editing a new publication called New River Quarterly for Sacramento Poetry Center, which will include poems by members of the Mule Creek State Prison poets’ workshop which Lara facilitates. For more about this new publication, including how to obtain a copy, go to https://www.sacpoetrycenter.org/publications-tule-review/. Congratulations, Lara, on such a wonderful project!
 
And now it’s time for…  


FORM FIDDLERS’ 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.)


Check out our recently-refurbed 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 and other ways of poetry. 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

Poets who sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo included Melissa Lemay, Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Caschwa:


BALLS (based on a true story)
—Melissa Lemay, Lancaster, PA

Balls! the little one says.
Bouncing balls, blue balls, yellow balls, smack
the balls, all the balls, lick my balls…


Stop saying that! mom cries out,
exasperated, tired of living in
an unintentionally R-rated Dr. Seuss book.

* * *

BALLS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

It takes balls
of glitter to decorate
a Christmas tree.

It takes balls
to divert a cat
from the tissue box.

It takes balls

to survive the holidays
with a smile on my face.

* * *

WRECKING BALLS
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Now here’s a ballroom, quickstep to
piled glitterballs, more discotheque,
or Christmas decoration bulbs
awaiting plant in socket wires,
soon strung across our countless trees?

A nursery to grow such bulbs
amongst the corms, by Easter’s rose,
excited kids who nurture plant—
the factory of future’s use,
a winter’s tale in summer’s warmth?

Or this a balloon factory,
preparing for the party times,
when full grown means they’ll be full blown,
potential planted, rainbow blaze,
as flexibility springs more?

Herbaceous border’s, site again,
or bedding plants, this year’s display,
or garden plot for sprouting seeds,
where youngsters meet these toxic plants,
temptations set in danger signs?

For seas, they say, full plastic balls,
as are fish stomachs, tortoise shells?
Like sweets, bright colours, mixed in piles—
it is the children they attract,
though learning comes—hope educates?

This is the epoch—plasticene
as indestructible now reigns;
I wonder, is it in our veins,
around the carotid, those beads,
masked balls a-dancing, every sphere?

* * *

BOUNCE HOUSE RISK ANALYSIS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

(Severity times Likelihood equals Risk Impact)

So what if those are not balls, but balloons?
Hot air or water, they could burst and cause harm
This is real life, not cartoons
Parents would sue, get the farm

Testing the risk with grown men
ignores a child’s natural weakness
so don’t make me say this again
we don’t test run NASCAR in the Preakness

all that the children’s eyes should see
are explosions of color and glee

* * *

And here is an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth:

 

 

 

PACEMAKER
—Stephen Kingsnorth

A pacemaker with pulse, flow—more,
a rhythm fit to breathing rate
as torso, trunk needs xylem, phloem,
here is the food, stored heartfelt core.

Its spirit cracks emotion’s door,
prise open old, unsettled scores,
shares wonder in a tender vein
or horror born of human flaw.

Averse to mind-games, havoc’s trail,
it stretches our vocabulary,
permits the playful lexicon
its range from mindful to veneer.

Confessional, unspoken loads,
a celebration, overjoyed,
here’s space to mark questions unasked,
to raise, pose mysteries of life?

Distraction from my disease pain,
release from tempting final step—
when rhyme and reason leave their post,
my daily diary of sane.

____________________

Many thanks to today’s writers for their lively contributions! Wouldn’t you like to join them? 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 these challenges, and send your results to kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.) Let’s follow Taylor Graham’s lead today and devise Sevenlings and Definition Poems:

•••Sevenling: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/sevenling

•••AND/OR a definitive Definition Poem:

•••Definition Poem: https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1105-a-definition-poem

•••See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.

•••And don’t forget each Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “My Only Indulgence”.

____________________

MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:

•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Choka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka
•••Definition Poem: https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1105-a-definition-poem
•••Diminuendo: Nature, five lines of descending syllables: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Sevenling: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/sevenling
•••Triversen: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/triversen-poetic-form

__________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 

  Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!

 Frog Prince

—Painting by Carol Miller Burd, 1919

 
 Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)

* * *

—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 

For info about
 future 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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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.

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!