—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!
—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!
WILDWOOD EQUINOX
The smoky-gold moon sets through oak,
last-of-summer brittled to fall.
A window of sky above Stone Mountain
opens to lightning upcountry.
I wait for rain, rubber boots at ready;
sweep dead leaves from the muse’s chair.
The global dateline is pandemic and drought.
I’ll harvest 4 green tomatoes from the garden.
The smoky-gold moon sets through oak,
last-of-summer brittled to fall.
A window of sky above Stone Mountain
opens to lightning upcountry.
I wait for rain, rubber boots at ready;
sweep dead leaves from the muse’s chair.
The global dateline is pandemic and drought.
I’ll harvest 4 green tomatoes from the garden.
VALLEY OAK AVOWAL
This tree holds the land together.
How the hill leaned into it, as leaf-canopy
shadowed powerline. They cut it down,
a crew with chainsaws killed the tree.
How shall we breathe without its leaves?
Without the tree’s grace, land erodes
away. They beheaded the tree and left us
a 4-foot stump as its own monument.
But look, six months later—
the stump’s erupted in green, a spray
of pliant-tough new leaves. It lives.
The tree still holds the land together.
RE-IMAGINING EXERCISE CLASS
Mats: edge to edge on living room floor with only a hair’s breath between. Friends you’ve known before pandemic but, in shutdown, haven’t seen. Have they all stayed masked? just not today. You’ve known each other so well. What’s good for your self tied in knot-upon-knot of caution? Worry’s a bell of warning that echoes to the bone. Breathe for yourself inside your mask. Turn around, walk out the door alone. Let your friends’ eyes ask and ask—you’ve got your reasons. It’s time. Look outside, there’s a hill to climb.
Breathe this morning’s wide open
skies—turn your walk to sonnet in disguise.
Mats: edge to edge on living room floor with only a hair’s breath between. Friends you’ve known before pandemic but, in shutdown, haven’t seen. Have they all stayed masked? just not today. You’ve known each other so well. What’s good for your self tied in knot-upon-knot of caution? Worry’s a bell of warning that echoes to the bone. Breathe for yourself inside your mask. Turn around, walk out the door alone. Let your friends’ eyes ask and ask—you’ve got your reasons. It’s time. Look outside, there’s a hill to climb.
Breathe this morning’s wide open
skies—turn your walk to sonnet in disguise.
HILL TO CLIMB
Down on the creek, what was once
a gold mining town—now just a few rock
and wood foundations as evidence, 600 miners
but I’ve found not even a ghost.
Now, a thousand foot climb up to the saddle—
a long south-face switchback, bare slope
lava and decomposed granite—proof that erodes
with ages. It’s hot and dry. One foot in front
of the other. My dog tests the wind.
No scent of water, not a whiff of shade.
Climbing back out is the hardest. Behind us,
the creek molds stone slab to water-slide,
murmuring laughter.
LET’S CLIMB OUR HILL AGAIN
Gone, the slash-pile that blocked our path up the hill.
The chipper crew fed their loud machine its fill.
Now all is morning-quiet and woodland-still
and the alligator lizard has found new
digs, as well as a lizard with belly blue—
saved from those metal jaws by the chipper crew.
GO-BAG
Water. Dog crate & cat carrier.
Leash, dog/cat dishes, heartworm. Litterbox.
Good boots, goggles, gloves, mask.
Waist-kit: IDs, cash, checkbook, credit cards.
Backpack w/ mag-light, compass, pocketknife.
Paper, pencils, pens. Laptop, iPad, chargers.
Important papers. Time Machine.
Tucked in corners: Maps. LED lantern.
Pills, pillow, blanket, towel.
Shovel, pliers, hammer.
In my head, lines of Goethe, Rilke,
e.e. cummings, so many others
& shifting topo map of winds.
No room for photo albums—
traveling light by the mind’s versions
of possible worlds.
Today’s LittleNip:
WHEN THE SKY CLEARS
—Taylor Graham
We’ve hills to climb
for views sublime—
the dust and sweat
we’ll soon forget.
Wildflowers fade.
The treks we made
remain in mind.
What’s next to find?
_____________________
Friday thanks to Taylor Graham for her poetry and photos today, taking us with her usual flair into Autumn, now that we’ve passed the Equinox. And forms galore! She has sent us an Octopoem (“Wildwood Equinox”); a Welsh Cywydd Deuair Fyrion (“When the Sky Clears”); a Stornello (“Let's Climb the Hill Again”); along with a List Poem and a Haibun. (“Re-Imagining Exercise Class” started out as a Sonnet, but she says she collapsed it into a Haibun—it reads better that way). Check the Form Finder at the bottom of this post for recipes to all those forms.
And now it’s time for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!
_____________________
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
This week we have another gem from Joyce Odam, this one made up of rhyming tercets:
Lament Pathétique
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
Oh, what we mock, and how we stare.
Not for the shock, but for the dare.
Sadness, Sadness, everywhere.
Wasting love that doesn’t rhyme.
But how can love rhyme with time—
That Stubborn, Stubborn, Stubborn climb.
Oh, what we love, and what we lose.
Nothing like our dancing shoes.
Nothing, Nothing left but blues.
Rain will fall upon our face,
All the pretty tears erase.
Now we know how bitter tastes.
Bitter comes with such a price.
Pity comes with good advice.
What if, What if, uttered twice.
Thanks, Joyce! Carol Louise Moon has invented some poetry forms, one of which she has sent us this week: the EIO. About it, she says, “My poetry invention is a five-line poem where the ends of lines rhyme in the scheme of A,B,A,B,B. The beginning words of each line begin with E,I,E,I,O. We call it EIO, for short.” Here is her example:
AUTUMN GLORIES
—Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
Every pumpkin in the patch
in harvest glory has its day.
Even chickens when they hatch
in yellow down in gay
October glory in their little way.
Creative Form Fiddlers we have, indeed! Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) has sent us a List Poem, an Alouette, and a Waka Chain. His list poem is also about our Seed of the Week: Lies~
THE LIST GOES ON …
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
slave owner
stake holder
stock market
deep pocket
armed rocket
arms dealer
18-wheeler
magic healer
tragic drama
I want my mama
she know me
economy
larceny
tries
cries
eyes
lies
lies
lies
BANK OF PECAN (Alouette)
—Caschwa
two squirrels checked it out
both yards left no doubt
we have no pecan trees here
they ran cross the street
arrived in dead heat
brought some to leave for a year
when we mow the lawn
we’ll find a pecan
deposited in the past
meeting those yearnings
accruing earnings
somewhere from meager to vast
THE COST OF TRUTH (Waka chain)
—Caschwa
dared for all the facts
to refute superstitions
trial by jury
pre-pay any expenses
dole out big sums of money
the he said, she said
snuck quickly into their bed
soon they were to be
disregarding sleep numbers
not at all as advertised
goes without saying
leaders must tell us the truth
not a kissing booth
to raise funds for good causes
follow the money closely
laid down wet from sweat
hard to deny climate change
pretty, pretty please
turn around and open eyes
you will be very surprised
____________________
Awesome, Carl! And many thanks to all our SnakePals for their brave fiddling! Would you like to be a SnakePal? 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!
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:
•••Alouette: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alouette.html
•••Cywydd Deuair Fyrion: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cywydd-deuair-fyrion-poetic-forms
•••EIO: a five-line poem where the ends of lines rhyme in the scheme of A,B,A,B,B. The beginning words of each line begin with E,I,E,I,O. (Carol Louise Moon)
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Octopoem: horses160.wixsite.com/website/single-post/2019/07/18/How-To-Write-An-Octo-Poem
•••Sonnet Forms: blog.prepscholar.com/what-is-a-sonnet-poem-form
•••Stornello: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/stornello-poetic-forms
•••Waka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/waka
____________________
—Medusa
End-of-Season Tomatoes
—Public Domain Photo
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