Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Lynn White,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Claire J. Baker
and Caschwa
THE REST OF THE STORY
(Upon reading “A Small King: A Mystical
Rewilding Along Portugal’s Rio Côa”
by Nicholas Triolo)
This walk isn’t about rewilding,
though sidewalks laid years ago in plans
for development are cracked
by what we call weeds, a small green rebirth
of storks-bill, dandelion, thistle, clover.
Vacant field rejoices in spring,
it’s Easter. I walk for my health,
regeneration, rest for the soul. By the pond
edged with willow and cottonwood,
a great egret
in its motionless hunt for fish.
I left my dog in the car;
he’s had his walk, leash-bound
but electric-focused in every sense
for prey. Now he’s napping.
This is my rest,
senses alert like a dog on-hunt,
for what I don’t know.
(Upon reading “A Small King: A Mystical
Rewilding Along Portugal’s Rio Côa”
by Nicholas Triolo)
This walk isn’t about rewilding,
though sidewalks laid years ago in plans
for development are cracked
by what we call weeds, a small green rebirth
of storks-bill, dandelion, thistle, clover.
Vacant field rejoices in spring,
it’s Easter. I walk for my health,
regeneration, rest for the soul. By the pond
edged with willow and cottonwood,
a great egret
in its motionless hunt for fish.
I left my dog in the car;
he’s had his walk, leash-bound
but electric-focused in every sense
for prey. Now he’s napping.
This is my rest,
senses alert like a dog on-hunt,
for what I don’t know.
APRIL 12, 2025
Dawn
touched pasture gone wild
without sheep, wilder now
with spring, with sky-blue lupine
watercolor-wash this morning’s
dawn.
Dawn
touched pasture gone wild
without sheep, wilder now
with spring, with sky-blue lupine
watercolor-wash this morning’s
dawn.
FANTASTIC?
from Western Forests
Put up a bird feeder anywhere west of the Rockies
some feathered friend will grace you with its visit.
A squirrel has no feathers; tell it to go home to its
oak tree. And ants in squadrons will rappel down
the string that holds a hummingbird feeder—
you can’t stop them. One morning (I’ll admit,
it was eldritch twilight, sun just climbing the Sierra)
I saw an angel swinging from the feeder, wings
spread, fingers holding the edges. At first I took it
for a woodpecker. But dawn music is pure harp.
from Western Forests
Put up a bird feeder anywhere west of the Rockies
some feathered friend will grace you with its visit.
A squirrel has no feathers; tell it to go home to its
oak tree. And ants in squadrons will rappel down
the string that holds a hummingbird feeder—
you can’t stop them. One morning (I’ll admit,
it was eldritch twilight, sun just climbing the Sierra)
I saw an angel swinging from the feeder, wings
spread, fingers holding the edges. At first I took it
for a woodpecker. But dawn music is pure harp.
ON THE GALLERY WALL
framed metal print by Lynell Phillips
It floats in timeless suspension
over an eroding world—
a blue-green globe nested in canopies
of trees, shrubs, grasses,
with what appear to be graceful
city spires
as if lit from within.
No, that’s the glare of gallery lights
reflected off its surface.
Beyond, a sky of indeterminate
hue, puffy white clouds showing their
dark undersides.
It’s titled Peaceful Earth.
framed metal print by Lynell Phillips
It floats in timeless suspension
over an eroding world—
a blue-green globe nested in canopies
of trees, shrubs, grasses,
with what appear to be graceful
city spires
as if lit from within.
No, that’s the glare of gallery lights
reflected off its surface.
Beyond, a sky of indeterminate
hue, puffy white clouds showing their
dark undersides.
It’s titled Peaceful Earth.
UNEXPECTED GUEST
It’s dark time
outside. Mountain
lion sticks
its head thru
pet-door trying to get in
to visit the pet.
Camera
catches big cat’s head
which is all
that fits thru.
A neighbor has lost eight sheep
in the last two weeks.
SO SOON
Fairground apple trees
white blossoms shedding petals
declare end of spring.
_________________
Today’s LittleNip:
HISTORICAL NO MORE
from Mountain Democrat (4/24/17)
—Taylor Graham
Patrons with heavy equipment came
to eat a large vanity mirror
on the second floor, and a hot spot
for reflection of things that were not.
___________________
So soon… spring is so short here in Northern California; Taylor Graham’s fine photos and poems are capturing it for us before it slips away, and our thanks to her for that. Forms TG has used this week include an Ekphrastic Poem (“On the Gallery Wall”); a Ganta (“April 12, 2025”); a Haiku (“So Soon”); a Borrowed First Line (“Fantastic?”); a Shadorma (“Unexpected Guest”); and a Found Poem using Normative Syllabics (“Historical No More”). “An Unexpected Guest” was a Response Poem for our Seed of the Week by the same name. The Found Poem was one of last week’s Triple-F Challenges.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, the Arts in Nature Fest takes place in Georgetown this Sunday, and EDC Poet Laureate Stephen Meadows will read in South Lake Tahoe on Wednesday. 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!
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!
* * *
Poets who sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo were Nolcha Fox, Lynn White, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Caschwa:
OLD CASSETTE TAPES
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Interviews of mother’s father,
taped exchanges between
father’s parents and us goofs,
all too scratchy, voices missing,
cassettes worn and talks now lost.
So far, my mind remembers
all the love we shared between us.
But one day, like those
old cassettes, my memories
may be wiped clean.
* * *
QUALITY
—Lynn White, Blaenau Ffestiniog, North Wales
I was pleased with my reel to reel recorder.
It was four tracks which was good,
as tapes were expensive
but quality was poor
My source of music was the radio,
an ancient transistor
Radio Luxembourg
fading
in and out
with lots of crackles
so quality was poor.
Then the age of affluence
caught up with me.
The reel to reel became an amp
for my boyfriend’s guitar
Now was the age of the cassette,
better quality but at a cost!
* * *
WALK ON
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
How old the Walkman type once scene,
with orange, headphones and cassettes,
technology that passed me by,
as swot in academics, me.
I wondered those who passed me by,
oblivious of all around,
jay walking where no place to be,
but spared by drivers, hoot unheard;
at least the shouldered ghetto blast,
alert, one shell-like, might have heard.
How many, those magnetic strips,
set stuck or crumpled, pencil wound,
a first aid for the damaged tape,
forever after, squeaky themed.
I still hold some in memory bank,
unwilling to abandon tracks,
though youngsters think a foolish hold,
but I’ll not chuck that precious gold,
of protest, Dylan, Baez songs
with Guthrie, Seeger, Prine I heard,
and Simon, Joni Mitchell too,
and Julie Felix, of the tribe.
They represent my seventies,
though gobbledegook when played, I’ve found,
but that was how so much of life
with flower power and Vietnam,
stems planted, barrel of a gun,
street sitting down, Grosvenor Square.
Those days were good, with Woodstock care,
in pilgrimage, President scares,
as I walked rugby boycott lines—
South African, white women scoffed.
I’d pride, anti-apartheid signs,
amongst my fellow Methodists,
though staff from school took a dim view.
Companions of my student years,
imprisoned in Pretoria,
to whom I wrote, their prison cells,
and to their wives, important, more,
spoke gratitude in later years,
as leaders of the church, their day.
Was I a Walkman for the truth?
* * *
DAILY COMMUTE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
In a 6-year span beginning over 4 decades
ago, I would travel from my 2nd-story
apartment in Mar Vista to a 27-story office
building in Miracle Mile to report to work
as a teller at a Savings & Loan
Left my house each morning, walked a
couple blocks to the bus stop, rode the bus
most of the way, then walked the last mile
to work. Reverse for coming home.
I carried a cassette player usually loaded
with Classical favorites, heard privately
over headphones. Each new day I needed
every last bit of power that a full charge
provided, to last me the roughly 2 hours
of one round trip.
* * *
Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) has sent us a List Poem:
NOT SO MUCH TROUBLED
—Caschwa
that someone will take my guns away,
but that they will take away:
clean air
Constitutional Rights
duly elected local office holders
safe drinking water
citizenship
right to vote
nation’s adequate defense against hostile foreign
attacks
good neighbors
the balance of power that has heretofore preserved
our democracy
Social Security and other programs that the
People have faithfully put money into over
the years
the very blessings that God has bestowed on this land
you name it
* * *
A Nonce from Carl:
—Caschwa
that someone will take my guns away,
but that they will take away:
clean air
Constitutional Rights
duly elected local office holders
safe drinking water
citizenship
right to vote
nation’s adequate defense against hostile foreign
attacks
good neighbors
the balance of power that has heretofore preserved
our democracy
Social Security and other programs that the
People have faithfully put money into over
the years
the very blessings that God has bestowed on this land
you name it
* * *
A Nonce from Carl:
RHYTHM OF THE WORDS
—Caschwa
Preachers start the call
Harmony to all
Bible, Gospel, Lord of Angels
Organ stirs the hall
~~~
I have seen the worst
Soon become the best
All one needs is strength and courage
Money in your fist
~~~
Changes are the force
Running future’s course
How that works we’ll never conjure
We just tap the source
* * *
And what Carl calls a “silly Haiku”:
—Caschwa
Preachers start the call
Harmony to all
Bible, Gospel, Lord of Angels
Organ stirs the hall
~~~
I have seen the worst
Soon become the best
All one needs is strength and courage
Money in your fist
~~~
Changes are the force
Running future’s course
How that works we’ll never conjure
We just tap the source
* * *
And what Carl calls a “silly Haiku”:
Q AND A
—Caschwa
Does no. mean number?
Obviously it does not.
No. no. no. no. no.
* * *
Our Tuesday Seed of the Week is Bugs. Here are two Response Poems about bugs from Stephen Kingsnorth:
MATT OR GLOSS?
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Can fleas jump through the icepack melt,
deep buried matt in polar fur,
or hide, wide in the penguin stir,
caught bubble, air, as water thump?
Working though clumps to find the derm,
then holding on for all their worth,
despite the preening beaks as comb;
not gloss as seals escape the whales,
thick skinned, unsuitable to fleas
* * *
IN VAIN
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Flies like fresh fruit, though past their best,
blood orange, rotten to the core;
yet fleas for flesh, as mashed in mess,
drinking vessels, capillaries,
their platelet dish, corpuscle quiz.
Old fools’ gold from prospectors’ hunch,
in vein, a seam of red from blue.
as stake their claim, rare, bloody hue.
Are chips laid down, accompanied,
salt in the wound to irritate?
* * *
We close with Claire Baker’s fine Double Cinquain about her socks:
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Can fleas jump through the icepack melt,
deep buried matt in polar fur,
or hide, wide in the penguin stir,
caught bubble, air, as water thump?
Working though clumps to find the derm,
then holding on for all their worth,
despite the preening beaks as comb;
not gloss as seals escape the whales,
thick skinned, unsuitable to fleas
* * *
IN VAIN
—Stephen Kingsnorth
Flies like fresh fruit, though past their best,
blood orange, rotten to the core;
yet fleas for flesh, as mashed in mess,
drinking vessels, capillaries,
their platelet dish, corpuscle quiz.
Old fools’ gold from prospectors’ hunch,
in vein, a seam of red from blue.
as stake their claim, rare, bloody hue.
Are chips laid down, accompanied,
salt in the wound to irritate?
* * *
We close with Claire Baker’s fine Double Cinquain about her socks:
MY ANGEL AMID HOLEY SOCKS
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Kneeling
by my darning
needle, she inhales socks
dried under sun & wind, fragrant
cotton
as we
did when mother,
weary, brought laundry in
from backyard line, sun-dried, still warm—
childhood.
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Kneeling
by my darning
needle, she inhales socks
dried under sun & wind, fragrant
cotton
as we
did when mother,
weary, brought laundry in
from backyard line, sun-dried, still warm—
childhood.
__________________
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!
•••Florette: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/essence.html
•••AND/OR a Florette #2:
•••Florette #2: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/florette2.html
•••AND/OR borrow from Taylor Graham’s “Borrowed First Line” form (can be borrowed from anywhere)~
•••Borrowed First Line: Just what it says…
•••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 “Bugs”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Borrowed First Line: Just what it says…
•••Cinquain (Crapsey): 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: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/essence.html
•••Florette #2: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/florette2.html
•••Found Poem: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/found-poetry-converting-or-stealing-the-words-of-others AND/OR poets.org/glossary/found-poem
•••Ganta: https://medium.com/@Internationalpoetrynewsletter/modern-ganta-poems-and-how-to-write-ganta-poems-a6b08b655078
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Nonce Poetry Forms: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/nonce-forms-what-they-are-and-how-to-write-them
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Shadorma: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/shadorma-a-highly-addictive-poetic-form-from-spain
•••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/.
__________________
—Medusa
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Shadorma: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/shadorma-a-highly-addictive-poetic-form-from-spain
•••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/.
__________________
—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
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 Poetry Center
presents
Celebrating Our Fallen Inspirers
tonight in Sacramento, 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?
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!
Sacramento Poetry Center
presents
Celebrating Our Fallen Inspirers
tonight in Sacramento, 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?
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!
