Wild As The Wind

 —Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan,
Nolcha Fox, Caschwa, and Joyce Odam

 

 

 BEFORE THE EGRET FLIES

There’s the king of freshwater—
Egret fishing pond.
My dog’s keen as shot-spotter.
Do they share a pond?

 

 

 

UNDER WINDS OF MARCH

Storks-bill, fiddleneck, wild mustard, wild radish
in early bloom, vetch weaving its vines
as we approach the pond, and there’s the egret
standing statue, origami folded in S curves
ready to strike taichi sword beak into wind-
riffled water. The bird senses my dog focusing,
wild for pursuit. Wind laces white curves
and angles, lifting the egret in ponderous flight,
as I break my dog’s invisible eye-thread,
into the wind, as if it were the breath of March
blown loose from rules and fetters;
and I can write it any way I wish
in any liberated form, and my dog is wild 

as the wind on four feet metrical or not. 

 

 

 

 

 

WHERE’S THE OTHER BOOT?

Grateful for my 2
good legs, 2 feet in hiking boots,
and a sturdy staff
for wandering the burn scar—
rough, bulldozed, slashpile’d terrain.

 

 

 

 

ODE TO THE WINDY MONTH

March, you month of winds, of changing seasons—
we listen to your forecast and hang on tight
or let our minds blow free as footsteps
on the paths of change—
earth-tilt and perspectives—
as you sweep across alfalfa fields
so a girl on her bareback horse might dream
of snowy peaks in your far-off up-wind distance
so she longs to ride there
and make songs of it—wind in horse’s mane,
wind in her brain to find those dreams. 

 

 

 

 

TOO MUCH REPETITION OF “VARIOUS”
notes for a lit-crit paper

That long poem was a combination of riffs
on various crimes, unrequited lovers,
Heinrich Schliemann, a small detail from
Der Grüne Heinrich, and letting those
bits go off on their own imaginations,
arriving somehow in Wilseyville
& various spots in the burn scar, searching,
exploring, converting to pioneer plants,
conifer sprouts, animal tracks evolving
through a wild variety of styles, forms,
approaches, eras, digital highway robbery
and alternative realities. 

 

 

 

 

WHY I’M HERE AT DUSK

The news at dawn was another shock to every
system. Even our familiar seasons. Recently birds
we never saw before are at the feeder, replacing
the ones we knew. And all the world—
human and natural—in its predictable position
in relation to the sun? It feels like everything’s
fleeing, challenges hitting not biweekly
like a workshop poem, but every day as if
without warning. How to judge the quality
of life in shifty times when the next moment
upsets yesterday’s which was already off-balance?
I’m here among so many others in the gathering
dark standing with homemade signs,
searching for light. 

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

PHOTO OF DOWNCAST BLOOM
—Taylor Graham

Daffodil’s laughing
at me trying to snap it
gazing down at dirt.

_____________________

Wild as the wind is this crazy month with all its weather variations! Taylor Graham has written about it for us this week, and many thanks to her for these fine poems and pix!

Forms TG has used this month include an Ode (“Ode to the Windy Month”); a Word-Can Poem (“Why I'm Here at Dusk”); an Irish Cro cumaisc etir casbairdne ocus lethrannaigecht (“Before the Egret Flies”); an Ars Poetica (“Under the Winds of March”); a Tanka (“Where's the Other Boot?”); and a Haiku (“Photo of Downcast Bloom”)

El Dorado County’s regular workshops are listed on Medusa’s calendar (if you scroll down on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html/). Poetry in Motion meets in Placerville this coming Monday morning, for example. For more news about such events and 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!  
 
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 Stephen Kingsnorth, Joe Nolan, and Nolcha Fox:


NOM DE PLUME
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

A parrot palette, I surmise,
the portrait plumage from cerise,
though not from bow, that echo arc,
where neither green nor cherry real -
prismatic fantasy thus stark.

A quill is dipped, just tip of tail,
with ink lake linked, as if to spell
out novel sketch of global fame;
for frontispiece, Norwegian Blue,
of Monty Python—dead as claim?

Take Long John, peglegged, shouldering
those claws of one here parading;
the buccaneer with Captain Flint,
as treasured island pirate cast,
from scapula, which piece five tint?

Short Tom of Hook and Peter Pan,
Iago of Aladdin’s clan,
or Crusoe’s Poll, part Polly too -
each line up cast has branches, more,
this queue due clearly for review.

* * *

THE KEETS
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

We’re thinking of setting up
A singing group and
Calling it
“The Rainbow Parakeets”
Or “Colorful Keets”
Or “Keets in Heat”
Or “Keets So Sweet”
Or “Here Come the Keets”
Or maybe just “The Keets.”

We’re not gonna do
No poetry
Like that old bard, Mr. Keats
And don’t mention Mr. Shelley.
That’s old school.
We gonna be jumpin’ bobbin’ and flyin’
Make people spread wings and fly
And no, we’re not a gay group
Like The Village People.
What they doin’ at Trump’s Inauguration,
Anyway?
Now that was really gay.

* * *

LETTER TO THE EDITOR ABOUT
TOO MUCH HAPPINESS
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

I read your colorful article
about rainbows, parakeets,
blue skies, and calm waters.
I remind you I’m the one
who wears the muck on knee-
high boots to drain the pond
and clean out all the bird poop
after you extol the charm.
Not everyone is cheerful
about beauty as you bums.

Respectfully,
Maintenance

* * *

Here is a poem from Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) which is a Tribute Poem to one of our SnakePals with whom he’s been conversing:

 

 

 

IN GOOD TIME
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

(A tribute to Freya Pickard)

was high school senior
bought a motorcycle from
my older brother

got in a bad crash
bike ruined, I was in coma
which slowed me down some

right thumb reattached
left ankle wholly rebuilt
details still fuzzy

my life continued
started college on crutches
got lots of sweet help

university
parking obscenely high price
used bicycle, bus

then bought my first car
landed my first full-time job
got own apartment

met and married the
love of my life, fathered a
son who made us proud

Y2K occurred
older brother got cancer
needed some stem cells

I was a good match
became an organ donor
20-million count

brother recovered,
my stem cells inside of him
my blood in his veins

* * *

Joyce Odam has sent us a Decanelle:

 

 

 

 

TO THE FORCES
 —Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

Lift me, lift me; set me flying.
Sorrow’s bridge is falling down.
Waters of despair keep rising.
Waves have washed away the town.
Nothing left there but some pity—
I will not be pity’s noun.
Let the winds disperse my passion.
Let the heavens keep my sighs.
Let the cold stars have my weeping—
take the tear-shine from my eyes.

* * *

And here’s First-Word Acrostic from Carl:

 

 

 

NOW I SEE IT
—Caschwa

two new-fallen leaves
molt at the same pace while
you, the better of
us respond to crowds with
waves of encouragement,
carrying on those
little gestures;
tiny hints of
deep emotions cradled in the
lee, refuge for whatever is to
come, and
it’d better come soon, because
surfer tunes are in the air,
dudes seeking love for those
who live in the ocean,
boast a great tan while
hugely smiling,
disproportionate devotion to
egos manufactured by media
for swarms of drooling girls
just eager to meet a guy
having no flaws, and
a date to talk about in
good terms till the end of
time 

 

* * *

And we close with a profound Haiku-warning from Carl, based on a recent Seed of the Week: Too Expensive:

 

 

 

THE MONA LISA

—Caschwa

spent big on implants

got half what was advertised

can’t risk a full smile

 

____________________

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.) Maybe follow Carl Schwartz’s Lead with a Tribute Poem:

•••Tribute Poem: https://allpoetry.com/poems/about/Tribute

•••AND/OR: another tribute, this one to St. Patrick’s Day, with a Diebide Baise Fri Toin:

•••Deibide Baise Fri Toin: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/deibide-baise-fri-toin-poetic-forms
 
•••AND/OR: respond to Joyce Odam’s Decannelle with one of your own:

•••Decannelle: darksideofthemoon583.com/2018/01/26/10-line-poem-challenge-15-decannelle

•••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 “Overflowing”.

____________________

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

•••Acrostic Poem types: https://studybay.com/blog/how-to-write-an-acrostic-poem
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Cro cumaisc etir casbairdne ocus lethrannaigecht: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/cro-cumaisc-etir-casbairdni-ocus-lethrannaigecht-poetic-forms
•••Decannelle: darksideofthemoon583.com/2018/01/26/10-line-poem-challenge-15-decannelle
•••Deibide Baise Fri Toin: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/deibide-baise-fri-toin-poetic-forms
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Ode: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ode
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Tribute Poem: https://allpoetry.com/poems/about/Tribute
•••Word-Can Poem: putting random words on slips of paper into a can, then drawing out a few and making a poem out of them

__________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

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

* * *

—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain

 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

A reminder that Sacramento's
el gigante features David Dominquez
on Zoom tonight, 7pm:
For info about this and other
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.

Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.

Miss a post?
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Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)

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!