BY FAILING LIGHT
An adolescent doe skirts our woods-edge as highway traffic speeds by; then up the neighbors’ drive. So unsure of herself, one silent hoof-fall at a time barely moving. Her best attempts at invisibility. If she keeps going she’ll be boxed in. What can a young doe understand of field-fence with its barbed top strand? My every human step shatters dead-fall leaves; my personal angst—which, with a flash of white rump she rejects,
breaking the spell, she
leaves me with just a vision
of her taking flight.
NO ANSWERS
My morning walk-&-run postponed—
800-numbers, corporate websites, questions
without answers, what a drag.
At last I break away, take the trail
skirting downtown, almost deserted.
A lone walker’s headed the other way,
bedroll in one hand, stuff-bag in the other,
pack on her back. I nod; her eyes
straight ahead not seeing. Young, maybe
college age. On my return—why
don’t I want to pass her from behind?—
I leap aside, crackling dead leaf
underfoot. Fractured once-graceful
sycamore leaf. That girl, where
is she headed on a trail that skirts Main
Street? Questions without answers.
OCTOBER INTO NOVEMBER
Pop-ups on Main Street, unmasked couples
toast the witching moon, the hour—pass on by.
At Army surplus, a plastic skeleton regards
the stuffed white bear festooned with lights.
It’s Early Voting day, masked neighbors
passing behind a screen—future’s blind eye.
This year of so many losses, we mark how
one month becomes another slipping by.
In a window, sugar skulls, marigolds, smile
of a long-closed eye. Traffic passes by.
NOVEMBER WINGS
Sun shines through bare limbs,
dead dry leaves crunch underfoot
and look, a feather—
hawk or owl? raptor casting
off its dead, trimming new wings.
DREAM ODYSSEY
Día de los Muertos
My old search dog Odyssey—
I called her Roxy—who appeared to me
once in dream… a flying-trot
through upcountry lupine, Indian paintbrush,
columbine, leaping meadow to cliff
to peak, looking back over her shoulder
to make sure I was coming too;
and then that higher leap,
rock to cloud exhaling as she rose
into night sky leaping star to star to star….
OFRENDA
for the earthquake dead
A hacksaw blade
gripped tight in the hand
of a man sawing rebar
a sledgehammer
for breaching concrete collapsed
on someone’s home
a work-glove, hand reaching
through cracks in rubble
for another’s hand
a flashlight to shine
thru layers of floor & ceiling
to whoever’s still alive
years since the Earth shook—
what remains is memory
on the altar of life.
Today’s LittleNip:
2020 VISION
—Taylor Graham
The virus cancelled Halloween,
still spooky goblins haunt my head
and latest polls confuse the scene.
The virus cancelled Halloween
as we’re hanging on the TV screen
which gives us Election instead.
The virus cancelled Halloween—
still-spooky goblins haunt my head.
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Good morning and an autumn thank-you to Taylor Graham for her colorful Día de los Muertos photos taken in Placerville! Her poetry forms today include a Triolet (“2020 Vision”); a (she says sort-of) Ghazal (“October into November”); plus a Haibun and a Tanka.
Speaking of forms, it’s time for...
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FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
It’s time for more contributions from Form Fiddlers, in addition to those sent to us by Taylor Graham! 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, by golly! (See Medusa’s Form Finder at the end of this post for links to definitions of the forms used this week.)Joyce Odam has sent a lovely Triptych. Originally taken from the three-fold painting most commonly seen in churches, the definitions of a poetic Triptych vary. Online, the only one that I found was on speculativepoetry.wordpress.com/2014/11/11/unfolding-the-triptych, and I’m not sure that I would hang my hat on that one. (There are also lots of examples at www.bing.com/images/search?q=triptych+poetry+form&qpvt=triptych+poetry+form&form=IGRE&first=1&scenario=ImageHoverTitle, which might give you a better sense of the form.)
Anyway, Joyce’s poem is very satisfying and fits Description #1 in the Speculative Poetry blog. In the past, I have also received poems in the form of Description #2, which is kind of a literary puzzle. Anyway, here is our gift from Joyce:
AUTUMN TRIPTYCH
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA
Leaf Fall
blue wind
out of
gold wind,
taking the leaves
then
letting them go
On The Bench,
this speckled yellow leaf
perfect-shaped
another leaf for my camera
One More Fallen Leaf
I find a leaf trembling on my car and have to
save it, of course—I believe in signs—on the
handle of the door, just where my hand will turn
and open, this balanced leaf has fallen and held.
I take it home to press in some old book,
marked: Leaves From Sad Old Trees.
Another SnakePal, Claire Baker, has sent a beautiful poem, this one in very smooth Blank Verse:
A FIRE ON THE BEACH
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Sonoma Coast
We are like newborns taking our first breath
for rite of passage into agelessness.
We wonder, what has been our pillar, anchor,
anthem, calling? Where have we been heading?
Where have we yet to go, discarding baggage
along the way? Recalling how the moon
prepares the sea for change, driving we reach
October’s ocean: we build a driftwood
fire on the beach, keep adding flotsam
fallen from our lives. When wind whips faster,
blown sand and dune grass cancels our footprints.
As waves grow cool, the horizon painted
with a waning sun’s goodbyes and farewells,
we stoke our fire, faces warm in shadows…
We are inconsequential grains of sand,
yet glorious despite our foibles and flaws.
Our gritty fire lights the evening star
and keeps on flaring, sparking all the stars.
Busy Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) has sent us several forms this week, starting with last Friday’s Fiddlers’ Challenge, the Skeltonic:
OWED TO THE BANK
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
the playground slide
failed holding kids wide
pinched them on the side
it was worse than broken
like the one in Hoboken
splintered as if oaken
bad words surely spoken
not fully paid for
no Nobel, sorry Al Gore
too costly to restore
it is sitting there on loan
like a marching band trombone
you are so alone
with your piercing tone
that slide cannot stay
pray help is on the way
* * *
He also sent some Alouettes, the second one being an Alouette Chain:
CIVIL WAR
—Caschwa
an oxymoron
compromise foregone
nothing civil about war
no one will heed your
civil procedure
when tempers are more than sore
____________________
YOU’RE SAFE
—Caschwa
fully surrounding
self with floundering
people who cannot discern
artful camouflage
from coy decoupage
ship in bottle, stem to stern
***
change the time, it says
clever devices
take care of that task for you
then you must inspect
are they all correct?
some need turning of a screw
***
six foot, five, nifty
three hundred fifty
offensive guard crouches down
ready to fend off,
arrest, crush, and scoff
defensive lineman, that clown
***
I built a good house
for you and your spouse
plenty of room for offspring
I only ask that
since you are a cat
house rules: after ten, don’t sing!
And also a Lanturne Chain:
THE NIGHT VISITOR
(knotted Lanturne Chain)
—Caschwa
Thud!
honey,
you having
more dizzy spells?
speak
oh
my god
where am I?
this is not good
dear
breathe
deeply
remember
doctor’s orders,
count
star
light, star
bright, first star
I see tonight
damn!
well
maybe
take off those
big cowboy boots
first
don’t
go there
you know how
much I love them
hon
but
you’ll be
more relaxed
in your slippers,
love
well
alright
I’ll try that
in the morning
(not!)
And finally a tricky, truthful timely Triple Tetractys:
ELECTION FRICTION
—Caschwa
(Election Day itself will not put the lid
on our pot of boiling emotions)
by
the time
you see this
poetic verse
the election count may finally be
concluded and announced to the public
all the drama
still brewing
over
who
may
really
deserve to
take the reins of
a nation still so very divided
__________________
So, many thanks to 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. Don't be that lazy grasshopper—just pick up your pen and get to writin'. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—for poetry, of course!
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FIDDLERS' CHALLENGE!
This week's challenge is a Quinzaine (www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/quinzaine.html). See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.)
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MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:
•••Alouette: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alouette.html
•••Blank Verse: literarydevices.net/blank-verse OR www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-the-difference-between-blank-verse-and-free-verse#quiz-0
•••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
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Lanturne: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lanturne.html
•••Quinzaine: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/quinzaine.html
•••Skeltonic Verse: www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/skeltonic-verse-poetic-form
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Tetractys: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/tetractys.html
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
__________________
—Medusa
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