Set Free to Wander

 

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA

—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!

WIND-HUNTING

We’re searching for time and place
and where they come together,
a plain of unfenced grass, the grace
of sun, shade, changing weather.

And where they come together
we gather to share—poet friends
of sun, shade, changing weather—
where the gray of pavement ends.

We gather to share poet friends
of wind, of wild-whim spirit
where the gray of pavement ends.
We’ve come to breathe and hear it.

O wind, and wild-whim spirit
of words set free to wander.
We’ve come to breathe, to hear it
dispersing into unknown yonder

our words set free, to wander
this searching for time and place,
dispersing into unknown yonder
a plain of unfenced grass, its grace. 

 

 

 

 

THIS YEAR AS THE SUN SHINES

November sun streams through the east
window at its particular-to-the-day slant
of light, so bright you ask me to turn it off.
November sun streams through the void
left by firethorn, perished in our covid year
of loss—its flame-berry festival for birds.
November sun streams, sparkling a frost-
struck landscape, reminding us of warmth
and our cold-numb extremities. “Your
peripheral neuropathy,” I remind and,
for me, frostbit fingers—winter
high-desert rides—my big black mare
long-ago cantered to higher greener fields.
November sun streams through, blinding—
its sharpened late-year blade of light
carving a day of thanksgiving. 

 

 

 

 

JUBILATE
with apologies to Christopher Smart

For I will consider the Corp I need not name.
For it provides tiny LED star-pricks of blue & green
For they light my way, bedroom to hall to kitchen.
For they beckon to our wireless internet phone.
For said Corp switched us from landline to wifi.
For sans access to voicemail it lets me dial a number.
For its human staff truly tries to provide my access #.
For without voicemail it allows me to answer a call.
For it’s a robo call from the anonymous Beyond.
For it might be from our Dog and Cat’s Vet.
For said Vet is a true bright light, a humane Being. 

 

 

 

 

ARCTOSTAPHYLOS

O manzanita, tangled scrub
that over-thickets all my trails
and makes me bow to you and crawl—
how richly red your bark! 

 

 

 

 

WHAT’S LOVED, WHAT ISN’T

The lovely fire-thorn that succumbed this year,
renouncing green leaves where the sunbeams dozed,
we’ve cut—as all dead things must go. It’s clear,
as now the wide view to the east’s exposed
with all the neighbor’s junked cars interposed.
Those dead, too, should go, far less lovely than
the perished fire-thorn. They’re the work of man. 

 

 

 

 

MONOTETRA MONOLITH
              for T

A tall, silver, shining metal monolith discovered in the desert in southeastern Utah—which prompted theories of alien placement and drew determined hikers to its secret location—has now disappeared.         —CNN


A monolith’s in Utah found
set in red boulders’ sandy ground.
No explanation all around,
oh not a sound—oh, not a sound.

So shiny metal, silver plate—
when was it put there, soon or late?
Who placed it as an entry gate?
Is it our fate? Is it our fate?

Is this just an anomaly? Is this the tale you told to me?
Might this chance portal set us free?
Oh, let it be, oh let it be!

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

TELL THE FOLKS
—Taylor Graham

at the end of a little dirt trail
I didn’t mean to trespass, intrude
on their privacy. I won’t assail
their freedom, peace of this campsite rude.
A tarp, 2 chairs—all the home they’ve got
but blest by oaks. Here, spirit’s renewed,
and I won’t divulge their quiet spot.

______________________

Our thanks to Taylor Graham for today’s poetic messages from the Sierra foothills! For more about Christopher Smart’s Jubilate Agno (Rejoice in the Lamb), see en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jubilate_Agno/.

Today Taylor Graham has sent us a Pantoum (“Wind-Hunting”); a Canopus stanza (“Tell the Folks”); a Ryūka (“Arctostaphylos”); a Rime Royal (“What’s Loved, What Isn’t”); a Monotetra (“Monotetra Monolith”); and what she calls a sort of a Chant (“This Year As The Sun Shines”).

And now it’s time for…

______________________

FORM FIDDLER’S 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.)

Tom Goff is one heckova sonnet writer, and here is one from him today:


MALIGNING 29
—Tom Goff, Carmichael, CA
 
Poet Robert Frost, in native confidence
Or sheer provoking mood—it is his line—
Declares Shakespeare’s great Sonnet 29
Faulty in technique. The evidence?
Frost posits that the closing couplet shows
The man knows not quite what to do with it.*
Let’s put the record straight despite this wit.
Disgraced, no longer seen at court, these blows
Compounded by sequestering from one
Dearest to him in his nadir of life,
The fair youth he loves better than his wife,
Kept nameless whether his lover or his son,
Shakespeare, hardened to bells that groan their toll,
Must brittle and break, or softer mind console.
 
*In his essay, “The Constant Symbol”.

 

 

 

 

 

Like Taylor Graham, Carl Schwartz (Caschwa), too, has sent us a Rime Royal today:

THE LEMON DILEMMA
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

suddenly, he found a pie in his face
he couldn’t bear to ask around just why
could it be that he was in the wrong place?
eyes closed, no evidence he could espy
it had a good taste, to tell you no lie
maybe a spot of tea was in order
passion fruit please, from over the border

 

 

 

Here is an Argonelle Chain, also from Caschwa:

 

DOW NOT SPOKEN HERE
—Caschwa

sitting
on top of a mountain
of unsecured debt and old bills
as happy as ants in their hills
still owe, but who’s countin’?

***

we have
food on our plates, and drinks
this isn’t the tall hat chef stuff
but looks and tastes good, that’s enough
“chef” nods head and just blinks

***

create
your own space, good advice
Home & Garden flooring and decks
castle & kingdom sizing specs
oh yes, that would be nice! 

 

 

 

 

 

Last week, we were talking about the Sestina (six lines) and the Pentina (five lines). There is also the Tritina (three lines). Here is a Pentina from Carl—though he and I am wondering how much you can vary those end words such as, in this case, “active”:


RETIREMENT
—Caschwa

at some point, escrow will come to an end
but please close the porthole so flies
are not drawn to our attractive
swordfish dinner to celebrate the new house
boat that we will soon attempt to sail

don’t waste time trying to rig the sail
as a propeller ties up the loose ends
meaning we don’t have to house
fabric in order to move forward, we’ll fly
right past the breakwater, our interactive

crew is quite alert, all on active
duty, figuratively wind in the sails,
hoisting our flag to fly
from beginning to end
we will love this house!

from port to shining port, our house
will be both a restful getaway, and an active
tour of the entire coast, with unending
opportunities to meet and greet sailors
including avian fishermen on the fly

such as a colony of gulls, flying
low to not miss the next meal or house
party, stocking up on food before setting sail
for another location, never inactive,
never just sitting still like a bookend

Swat! the end of a house fly 

full retroactive power, under sail 

 

 

 

 

 

And, by logical extension, Carl has (as he says) “made up” the Unina (one-line, one syllable Sestina). Here would be an example of that:


SEX
—Caschwa

Done.

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I’m not sure what the rhyme scheme would be, though… Anyway, 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. Just remember: the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!

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FIDDLERS’ CHALLENGE!  

See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) This week's challenge is a Terza Rima. See www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/terzarima.html/.

___________________

MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:

•••Argonelle: poeticsonline.com/glossary/argonelles
•••Canopus: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1199-metric-forms-from-pathways-for-the-poet
•••Chant: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/chant-poems-poetic-forms
•••Monotetra: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/monotetra.html
•••Pentina: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pentina
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Sestina: www.wikihow.com/Write-a-Sestina
•••Sonnet Forms: blog.prepscholar.com/what-is-a-sonnet-poem-form
•••Terza Rima/Terza Rima Sonnet: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/terzarima.html
•••Tritina: www.baymoon.com/~ariadne/form/tritina.htm

•••Unina: see above; reduce to single line, single syllable, but good luck rhyming...

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo

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