In Sore Need Of Angels

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!
 

 

TRAIL

Favorite word. On-trail—moving along,
not there yet. Leaving is always
better than arriving. Searching places
I never heard of, never meant to go,
to find the lost. Restless legs one-foot-
ahead-of-the-other. Around the next bend,
just to see what’s there, then a bend just
beyond. Even in hard winter rain,
a closed dirt road down to Rocky Bar,
then up the other side, Slug Gulch—
no reason to be there, just because.
Would God beckon across a low bridge
in December spate? “Welcome, feel free
to explore, look for whatever you’ve
lost. All repaired and ready to hit the trail.” 

MISSING ON THE DESOLATION

We set out with our dogs—not to track outlaws through wilderness, but a man who left his car at dirt road’s end and walked away unprepared for weather. Trail opened into sky. Creekside willow touched with fall. On higher peaks, first snow of the season. Calling his name,

voices on silence
as payback for entering
this eternal place. 

BALLAD OF THE MISSING

That summer day we looked for her
where she should have been.
The lockdown hit, and we were caught
masked from nose to chin.

Her office with a window view,
a cat and lots of books,
computer hooked-up to the world,
and many secret nooks,

a great Earth Atlas, native rocks,
titmouse past the glass—
the cat had knocked her modem down,
no messages could pass.

So many books, so great a globe,
she might be anywhere—
in thought, in wish, in masked disguise
as free as open air.

The window just a smidge ajar,
breeze fresh from the north.
That wild north corner, some might ask,
Could it have pulled her forth?

I guess she’s gone to find a world
unmasked as rock and sky,
where no one asks her when and where
or whither, or why. 

NOW YOU SEE IT, NOW….

For years, jackrabbits disappeared
our garden, legerdemain pulling leverets
out of the hat till jacks were everywhere—
leaping fence, slipping thru. Rabbit vanished,
gone. As the cycle ebbed, we hardly
saw rabbit at all. Lacking magic,
ground-squirrels left tooth-prints on zucchini,
feasted on pumpkin as if it were ice cream.
Deer nibbled delectable tops. A doe
graced our fenced acres to birth her fawn,
legs spindly for flight. I’d catch a glimpse;
swore I saw fawn across the swale. Trick
of optics? When I looked again, the image
transformed to jackrabbit. Doe and fawn
abracadabra gone from our acres.
But rabbit? I’d better check my garden. 

MISSING THE COMET

We were camped in volcanic wilderness,
snow starting after dusk, storm clouds to stop
the moon. Hyakutake, blazing top
to tail, stared down while a girl in distress—
La Llorona’s ghost?—crawled into my bed.
I let her sleep, and stood there in the snow.
Hale-Bopp was kinder, as if comets know
our earthly aches. I’d follow as he led
my way back home, across the one-lane bridge.
And now before dawn, this comet Neowise—
alas, invisible to my eyes, waiting
somewhere above the northeast ridge.
The neighbors’ security lightings leak
pollution on night, hiding what I seek. 

 Hatch Graham

MEDITATION ON FORM

I think of it—villanelle
or sonnet or one of those tricky Welsh
forms—as adventure,
a challenge
to see if I can do it.
Like rappelling. That first line—
is it strong enough
to hold me as I let myself down
over nothing?
Hanging on that line between
rock and void
till my feet touch down—the last
line! And I’ve arrived
somewhere I never imagined.
The descent took me
where it pleased,
imperative of rhyme and meter.
And what a view—
just glimpses, images slipping
hand-over-hand through fingers, word
on word burned on the brain
free as flight. 

Today’s LittleNip:

UPDATING OUR HISTORY 

—Taylor Graham

“Hangtown” is only our history—
nooses no more in the air.
This is Community Cleanup
Day. We know “what’s fair is fair.”
Cutting in line’s for outlaws, and
better wait your turn; don’t dare
get that big guy—vigilante?—
riled up. Quiet, no wild din,
just “the line forms-up way back there.”
Butt-in truck pulls U. We’re in!

____________________

Taylor Graham has sent us poems about “Missing” today, our recent Seed of the Week. She and her husband, Hatch, know a great deal about the missing, having worked with Search-and-Rescue dogs for many years, and having the good fortune to occasionally find those poor souls who were missing. She writes to us about her photo, “… Hatch rappelling with his dog decades ago when we were learning how to rig dogs into the process. We haven't rappelled in quite a few years now; formal poems are adventure enough…”

As to her forms today, Taylor writes, “I’m sending a Hybrid Sonnet, part Shakespeare, part Petrarch (‘Missing the Comet’); a Decannelle (‘Updating Our History’); plus a Ballad and a Haibun.”

Thank you, Taylor Graham, and may all those who are missing be found in good time and good health. Now if I can just find my missing brain cells…

Don’t forget the online reading tonight at 7pm, as The Art of Storytelling and Poetry presents Stories from the Old Neighborhood, hosted by Mary McGrath. Contact Mary at storytellermcgrath@yahoo.com to request a time for telling a story, 5 minutes or less. Zoom at us02web.zoom.us/j/86979261923?pwd=elN2ZUJpb3Fta09iZ0ZlMm9PZkVmZz09;
Password: speak-up.

Also today, 4pm: Writing from the Inside Out online workshop with Nick LeForce. Reg. in advance at zoom.us/meeting/register/upwkde-opjkpnyQECAVBKolY4hKCdl61uA/. After registering, you will receive a confirmation email containing information about joining the meeting. (If you have registered before, use the same link.)

I found a fun site at Poetry For Dummies: www.dummies.com/education/language-arts/poetry/poetry-for-dummies-cheat-sheet/.

And now it’s time for: FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!!!
 
____________________

FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!

It’s time for more contributions from Form Fiddlers! Each Friday for awhile, there will be poems posted here from some of our readers using forms—either ones which were mentioned on 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 forms and get them posted in the Kitchen. (See the end of this post for links for all the forms used.)


Joyce Odam sent us a Glosa this week; a Glosa is kind of a collaboration between you and some other author. For more details, see “Glosa” in Medusa's Form Finder at the bottom of this post, and note that all the forms we talk about today will have links down there. Here is Joyce’s Glosa:


FROM A FOOL’S MEANDER
(From "A Fool’s Meander" by Scott Michael Taylor)
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

         A Glosa :

         Broken is as broken doesn’t
         missing’s where the would be wasn’t.
         I know broken, I know missing
         better than the doves know kissing.
                            —Scott Michael Taylor

Broken is as broken doesn’t,
oh, yes
mad eyes
bodies
crowding
wanting out of themselves . . .

missing’s where the would be wasn’t.
oh, they
who are
from dreams
from dreams and nightmares . . .

I know broken, I know missing,
the sorting out
of who they are
serious with waiting
they pick me to assemble them
for pity and instruction.

better than the doves know kissing.
they will fade
they will not threaten
they will stay where they are
back in their own
disharmonious existence.

Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) from Sacramento has been busy this week, digging into the Paradigm, as well as his new favorite online resource, Shadow Poetry (www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/types.html), in which he has found some less-common forms. Here, for example, is a Septolet from him:


WE SLEPT 
—Caschwa

hypnotized
by the
dazzle of
political drama

no substance
no “there” there
we slept

* * *

This is a Villonnet:  

CERTIFIED
—Caschwa

I hired a certified paradigm aid
to help my thoughts take shape in verse and song
there seemed to be ideas that stayed unseen
when truly they should march like a parade

that feeling one has when ground is not laid
I only wanted to bowl on one lane
but league bowling occupied all of them
which imposed a burdensome barricade

nor could I partake of cool lemonade
with ball, bag, and shoes hanging at my side
a good bowling ball should not be contained
when truly they should march like a parade

I hired a certified paradigm aid
epiphanies anxiously standing by
when truly they should march like a parade

* * *

Carl also sent us a Rictameter, which is similar to a Cinquain; he, too, is talking about “Missing”:  
 

MISSING
—Caschwa

empty
musings of the
genuinely painful
root canal operation by
a licensed, bonded etymologist
using the latest thesaurus
to dig down to the bone
and leave the space
empty
 

Last week we talked about the Paradigm, and I asked for online references to it. Taylor Graham wrote, “Re: your question about the paradigm: Google ‘Lewis Turco’ and ‘Paradigm”. He inadvertently invented the Paradigm when he put together the earliest forms of Japanese verse as a teaching aid (as I understand it) and other poets latched on to it and it became popular, and he had to include it in his revised & expanded Book of Forms. The Paradigm's a neat form, lets you look at a subject from several directions (sort of like a Ghazal) without having to worry about connectors and transitions. Plus you don't have to mess with rhyme. See lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/2007/06/paradigm.html/.

After that, Carl wrote: “I found references to Lewis Turco’s Paradigm form that put the focus more on the flow of thoughts and feelings than on quantifiable, stylistic indicia of structural form. In my case, sure, it is easy enough to use the form of the Haiku, but touching on some real sense of nature can still be quite elusive. All this in mind, I fashioned a poem that seeks to imitate the flow of a Paradigm, with no effort to simulate form, otherwise. However, I couldn’t resist using the Indent Tab on the second line of each stanza, just to make it look like it followed some kind of form:”
 

DON’T THINK TOO MUCH
—Caschwa

Junior High School Art Class (circa 1963)
          teachers schooling themselves

what might work today
          to hold the kids’ attention?
to get them to do their work?

“Let’s go outside, class
          and sketch a tree in charcoal”
yes indeed, far outside of my experience,
medium, or interests

some students were successful
          without help from the teacher,
my success was in reaching new levels
of adulterated shame

I could more easily pick up a piece of charcoal
           and sketch the Mona Lisa
in a paint-by-the-numbers sort of way—
most of the marks will end up on my pants..
…follow the tree of life back to my mom
who will agree this wasn’t a very good idea

Carl also says he “Explored the 'Japanese Poetry' tab on the Shadow Poetry resource site and found a most informative guide by Kathy Lippard Cobb at www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html, which sets forth emphasis on what kind of statement a Haiku makes, regardless of exact syllable count. From that, I concocted 3 Haiku:”


CORRECT
—Caschwa

two guys backpacking
reach a most romantic view
they kiss scenery

***

I held your hand tight
and you grabbed me somewhere else
dim lights, let cat out

***

giant mixing bowls
of food passed down the table
mules outside grazing
 

Speaking of Asian forms, take note that Sacramento Poet/University professor Tim Kahl will present an online lecture about “Asian Short Forms” on Thursday, Aug. 13 at 7:30pm on Zoom at us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZYldOCrrTIsGd3zdcXdxMayV4fVqsEXFc8Y/. See Facebook at www.facebook.com/events/1110020476058791 for info.

________________________

MEDUSA'S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms which were mentioned today:

•••Ballad: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ballad
•••Cinquain: poets.org/glossary/cinquain
•••Decannelle: darksideofthemoon583.com/2018/01/26/10-line-poem-challenge-15-decannelle

•••Ghazal: poets.org/glossary/ghazal OR poetryschool.com/theblog/whats-a-ghazal OR
www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ghazal  OR
www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/ghazal.html  
•••Glosa, Glose, Gloss: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/glosa-glose-or-gloss OR www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/glose-or-glosa-poetic-forms
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Paradigm: lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/2007/06/paradigm.html
•••Rictameter: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/rictameter.html
•••Septolet: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/septolet.html
•••Villonnet: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/villonnet.html

________________________

Our thanks to our contributors today, as we expand our knowledge of poetry forms. Would you like to be a SnakePal? All you have to do is send poetry and/or photos and artwork to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post work from all over the world, forms or not, including that which was previously-published. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry! 

—Medusa

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA

 

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.

 Yee-Haw!
Saddle up. poets!