Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with Poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Caschwa, Joyce Odam, and
Mitali Chakravarty
SHEER POETRY
I must weed-eat the muse’s chair.
It’s perched above a stairstep boulder—
a muse must have a view—
high in greenery of all sorts she likes
to name—Indian lettuce gone to flower,
bedstraw climbing as if rocks and tree
trunks were its stairs. I haven’t seen
my muse in days. How can she
be absent in Poetry Month? She must
be drunk on spring, wandering
in meditation on the elixir of blue-
sky air. If I mow her a path, will she
come and sit on her chair,
and share a bit of inspiration? More
likely, she’ll keep doing things her way,
floating airborne on sheer poetry.
I must weed-eat the muse’s chair.
It’s perched above a stairstep boulder—
a muse must have a view—
high in greenery of all sorts she likes
to name—Indian lettuce gone to flower,
bedstraw climbing as if rocks and tree
trunks were its stairs. I haven’t seen
my muse in days. How can she
be absent in Poetry Month? She must
be drunk on spring, wandering
in meditation on the elixir of blue-
sky air. If I mow her a path, will she
come and sit on her chair,
and share a bit of inspiration? More
likely, she’ll keep doing things her way,
floating airborne on sheer poetry.
FLOWER QUESTIONS IN MARCH
We ford puddles and skirt pools on the trail—
all this blessed rain is spelling “flower”
and when will the way be milkweed-strewn?
Who stole the girl’s diary? pages strewn
like pink & blue plucked blossoms on a trail,
already fading, those hearts in flower.
Hummingbird thinks I’m an orange flower
in this woodland where only green is strewn—
what can a pollinator do on this trail?
Secrets strewn on a trail with no flower.
We ford puddles and skirt pools on the trail—
all this blessed rain is spelling “flower”
and when will the way be milkweed-strewn?
Who stole the girl’s diary? pages strewn
like pink & blue plucked blossoms on a trail,
already fading, those hearts in flower.
Hummingbird thinks I’m an orange flower
in this woodland where only green is strewn—
what can a pollinator do on this trail?
Secrets strewn on a trail with no flower.
OUR PATH
Which way to go, in this wild place
that withholds map and signposts?
so far from the comforts and certainties
of home. The wind picks up, brusque
and loud as pebble striking tin, the only
sound. Mosses open their green mouths
in praise of rain, speechless as green
life on tundra. Alders are just leafing out,
delicate beyond description. And look,
the first spring violets, compelling
in their silence, their secrecy.
Our path is ours to find.
GORDIAN *
slender as a hair
scribing its graceful S’s
in puddle soon to dry
* hairsnake
BEFORE SUMMER’S BRITTLE GOLD
sumer is icumen in…
Summer’s coming—let’s enjoy April, month
of green on ground and leafing-out of trees.
We’re here at Gold Bug park, my dog and I,
my eye on flowers, his nose everywhere.
He stops abruptly, sniffs. What can it be?
I see a cement trapdoor paved with quartz—
entrance to a mine. Our town’s history.
But what intrigues my dog, minutely reading
each centimeter of dead leaf, quartz chip—
what’s that to a dog? Or is he scenting
something buried by the decades, treasure...
or something alive, a critter to hunt?
Earth holds its secrets hidden underground.
A dog may know, but can’t say what he found.
DOGS DON’T UNDERSTAND
I try to explain
the news to Otis—tariffs,
layoffs and lawsuits—
he just lies on the futon
waiting for a tummy rub.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
IT’S ONLY A POEM
—Taylor Graham
We write in the shadow
of meaning. Nothing self-
addressed. The subterfuge
of metaphor, crafty protest
beneath. A wad of words
crumpled like archaic
kindness. Studies in sound,
music envy. A treehouse
freed of its grammar tree,
riding on imaginary wind.
Sheer poetry.
___________________
Taylor Graham has sent us sheer poetry this week, as always, as these days we’re celebrating National Poetry Month. Thank you, TG! Forms she has used include a Tritina (“Flower Questions in March”); an Ars Poetica (“It's Only a Poem”); two Word-Can Poems (“Our Path” and “Sheer Poetry”, which is also an Ars Poetica); a Smith Sonnet (“Before Summer's Brittle Gold”); a Tanka (“Dogs Don't Understand”); and a Haiku (“Gordian”). The Tritina and any Sonnet form were our Triple-F Challenges last week, and Sheer Poetry was our Tuesday Seed of the Week.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, this Sunday in Camino, Poets and Writers of the Sierra Foothills features Shawn Pittard and Gene Berson, 2pm. And Poetic License meets in Placerville on Monday morning, 10:30am. Also, 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 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!
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 Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth:
Nolcha says: I looked at today's Ekphrastic Challenge and saw chaos.
DON’T DO THIS WITHOUT ADULT SUPERVISION
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Chase a diarrhea dog
with carpet cleaner
and wine to calm your nerves.
Call the plumber about
a bathtub overflow.
Enjoy the on-hold music. Click.
Unplug the coffeemaker
as it shorts out because
cold coffee tastes better with grounds.
Swat at a disgruntled bee
circling the kitchen without spilling
a second drink to calm your nerves.
Close the window the bee flew through
because your downstairs neighbors are at it again.
Where did you put that drink?
Be grateful this is a normal day,
and you’re not an alcoholic.
Yet.
* * *
PILE DRIVER
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Say ‘bury yourself in a book’,
but buried by the books themselves,
a volume of capacious tomes
enfolding, holding to the floor?
When dust has settled, words remain,
from glyphs, the letters, in a line,
remaining though the pages turn,
like burn of Alexandria.
That land of libraries at stake
as piles in flames after removed,
just as translators of the word,
with shift of power to common mind.
As jack of all snaps trifles up
(beside idiomatic hint,
my Will inelegant, admit)
what cover story will emerge?
A title, byline, frontispiece,
some sandwich filling, preface, blurb,
a jacket worn ’gainst wear and tear,
that spinal column, Dewey-eyed.
Left on the shelf not reject space,
a paper on soft, hardback board,
ex-libra, Latin English pane,
though not ex-book, X-box replaced.
Assuming not an ancient pile,
here works of grace, text and display,
(unless there’s penny dreadful sign),
but tip to readers, if you’re bright,
of heightened flight risk at this site.
My first verse written, ‘Taking Stock’,
as schoolboy teen, fire damaged books,
foundation, life, bibliophile.
* * *
Here’s a Haibun from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz):
—Public Domain Art Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
FAMILY TREE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Loud crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, mimicked by the response of breeze in the trees, live leaves having the last word. Birds without dimension hiding behind the tension of tangled branches, maybe waiting for a mating call to ease the burden of loneliness.
No license issued
is not an impediment
to building a nest
is not an impediment
to building a nest
* * *
A Nonce from Carl: Each stanza is 7-7-6, with the end word of the first and last lines rhyming.
HELP, I NEED SOMEBODY
—Caschwa
help me I’m trapped in a box!
there are plenty of keys here
but cannot find the locks
I need somebody to come
and figure out this puzzle
wherever it came from
symmetrical walls, all square
which look quite the same to me
right back at me they stare
am I now just property?
subject to whims of a few
not the majority
no money in my wallet
steerage on luxury ship
flattened with a mallet
showed up intending to vote
but was turned back right away
AI is the new rote
* * *
Spring is about birds, and here is a Sonnet from Joyce Odam about her “rare bird”:
—Caschwa
help me I’m trapped in a box!
there are plenty of keys here
but cannot find the locks
I need somebody to come
and figure out this puzzle
wherever it came from
symmetrical walls, all square
which look quite the same to me
right back at me they stare
am I now just property?
subject to whims of a few
not the majority
no money in my wallet
steerage on luxury ship
flattened with a mallet
showed up intending to vote
but was turned back right away
AI is the new rote
* * *
Spring is about birds, and here is a Sonnet from Joyce Odam about her “rare bird”:
THE RARE BIRD
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
I love the bird in its safe cage
whose song is sweeter than dawn-light,
who never seems to have an age.
I cover him with silk at night
and never close his unlocked door.
He lives on nothing humans bring
so has no need to beg for more.
His only purpose is to sing
what only longing-minds can hear—
the song of absence and goodbye.
You want to see? Don’t go too near,
else life-long you will wonder why
the mind’s most-rare and valued bird
cannot be seen—cannot be heard.
(prev. pub in Medusa’s Kitchen, 4/3/18)
* * *
And Mitali Chakravarty has sent us some Limericks and photos from the other side of the world:
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
I love the bird in its safe cage
whose song is sweeter than dawn-light,
who never seems to have an age.
I cover him with silk at night
and never close his unlocked door.
He lives on nothing humans bring
so has no need to beg for more.
His only purpose is to sing
what only longing-minds can hear—
the song of absence and goodbye.
You want to see? Don’t go too near,
else life-long you will wonder why
the mind’s most-rare and valued bird
cannot be seen—cannot be heard.
(prev. pub in Medusa’s Kitchen, 4/3/18)
* * *
And Mitali Chakravarty has sent us some Limericks and photos from the other side of the world:
Cape Town Penguins
—Photo Courtesy of Mitali Chakravarty
—Photo Courtesy of Mitali Chakravarty
LILTING LIMERICKS
—Mitali Chakravarty, Singapore
I
Penguins pop up on beaches
Doing funny, strange stretches.
They waddle and they walk,
Without any talk,
Tuxedoed gentlemen in breaches!
II
The owl and the stork went for a ride
On a dark, creepy Halloween night.
While gazing at the stars,
They managed to spot Mars,
And the stork asked the owl to be his bride.
III
There once lived a downy, dreamy duck
That preferred to say cluck, cluck, cluck
For she thought she was a hen
Living in a green, marshy fen
And then she fell in love with a woodchuck!
IV
When peacocks flew to Persia,
Herons danced in the Himalaya,
It was spring in the North Pole
And penguins migrated to Seoul.
And the cockatoo time-travelled to Nabta Playa.
__________________
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!
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 try an Octelle! Think metaphor, allegory:
•••Octelle: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/octelle.html
•••AND/OR it’s time for butterflies! How about a Butterfly Cinquain?
•••Butterfly Cinquain: https://poetscollectivepoetryforms.wordpress.com/2014/02/21/butterfly-cinquain
•••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 “The Dark Cave”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Butterfly Cinquain: https://poetscollectivepoetryforms.wordpress.com/2014/02/21/butterfly-cinquain
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Limerick: poets.org/glossary/limerick
•••Nonce Poetry Forms: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/nonce-forms-what-they-are-and-how-to-write-them
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Sonnet Forms: https://blog.prepscholar.com/what-is-a-sonnet-poem-form AND/OR poets.org/glossary/sonnet
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Tritina: www.baymoon.com/~ariadne/form/tritina.htm
•••Tuesday Seed of the Week: a prompt listed in Medusa’s Kitchen every Tuesday; poems may be any shape or size, form or no form. No deadlines; past ones are listed at http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/calliopes-closet.html/. Send results to kathykieth#hotmail.com/.
•••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
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.
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?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
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!
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?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
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!
