—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!
OWL TIME
You’re up long before dawn,
reluctant of lamps. Outside, the gibbous
moon’s reflecting off frost-white car
and piercing through bare branches
as if to confront our human fascination
with electricity. You take
the Almanac as your directory,
falling into memory and wisdom
of old farmers whispered by the night
breeze, a ghost-scarf of field mist.
Is this why you rise so early?
You’re up long before dawn,
reluctant of lamps. Outside, the gibbous
moon’s reflecting off frost-white car
and piercing through bare branches
as if to confront our human fascination
with electricity. You take
the Almanac as your directory,
falling into memory and wisdom
of old farmers whispered by the night
breeze, a ghost-scarf of field mist.
Is this why you rise so early?
REVIVAL 1/1/21
Awake from dreaming: going-away party, a unicycle spins me out of Hallmark rhymes. / On my feet, awake now down the hall, temp 55 deg F, must build a fire in the woodstove. 1st things 1st: let the dog out, feel my way down icy steps—don’t start new year with a fall. There’s Moon more gorgeously wrinkled than round, waning but blinding still. Start video a friend sent while I crumple old news. Lay on tinder, kindling, light a match. It catches, 2020 entire goes on the pyre, I watch it burn. Laptop video: a care home, nurse in scrubs & face-mask dancing to Old Time Rock and Roll. Waving arms, tingling fingers. Old folks in their beds and chairs catch the rhythm, dance on their backs, on their seats, they’re smiling, moving
like they haven’t moved
in months, dancing back the years,
a new day’s singing.
Awake from dreaming: going-away party, a unicycle spins me out of Hallmark rhymes. / On my feet, awake now down the hall, temp 55 deg F, must build a fire in the woodstove. 1st things 1st: let the dog out, feel my way down icy steps—don’t start new year with a fall. There’s Moon more gorgeously wrinkled than round, waning but blinding still. Start video a friend sent while I crumple old news. Lay on tinder, kindling, light a match. It catches, 2020 entire goes on the pyre, I watch it burn. Laptop video: a care home, nurse in scrubs & face-mask dancing to Old Time Rock and Roll. Waving arms, tingling fingers. Old folks in their beds and chairs catch the rhythm, dance on their backs, on their seats, they’re smiling, moving
like they haven’t moved
in months, dancing back the years,
a new day’s singing.
OLD YEAR’S END
A full Cold Moon, dawn-dim with cloud.
Nothing’s awake, it seems. Oaks bare,
the land in frost-skin. Nothing’s loud.
A whisper of skunk on the air.
An early start, scant shrift, wheat toast.
We hadn’t planned on going there
today, the old year’s latter-most.
A whisper of skunk on the air.
Who knows what happens in the dark
to make the morning strange and rare?
Flashlight ripples, a distant spark,
a whisper of skunk on the air.
A full Cold Moon, dawn-dim with cloud.
Nothing’s awake, it seems. Oaks bare,
the land in frost-skin. Nothing’s loud.
A whisper of skunk on the air.
An early start, scant shrift, wheat toast.
We hadn’t planned on going there
today, the old year’s latter-most.
A whisper of skunk on the air.
Who knows what happens in the dark
to make the morning strange and rare?
Flashlight ripples, a distant spark,
a whisper of skunk on the air.
ECHOCARDIOGRAM
White clouds on dark
pool whispering by flashlight beam
white clouds on dark,
red, blue neon wavering arc
flowing, separating, a seam
giving—shapes slipping into dream
white clouds on dark.
LIGHT POLLUTION
A comet unseen is met
and caught in the stars’ dragnet
one summer month—a cosmic
snowball, a sky candlestick
lit in the northeast quadrant,
gazing on earth. But you can’t
see it for the blinding lights
of us citified finites.
SAILING THE PIRATE WAVES
It’s Blursday, poetry workshop on Zoom—
my hellacious “unstable” internet—cyber-
waves freezing faces to bleached wigs,
levitating voices to tones of salty mandolin.
May we meet face-to-face sometime
in this new year.
It’s Blursday, poetry workshop on Zoom—
my hellacious “unstable” internet—cyber-
waves freezing faces to bleached wigs,
levitating voices to tones of salty mandolin.
May we meet face-to-face sometime
in this new year.
Today’s LittleNip:
PENCIL STUB
—Taylor Graham
Ever-ready pencil stub, you’re fine.
Incense cedar with a graphite core,
etching cleverly inspired line,
inviting each letter to explore
one word, another, and just one more.
____________________
Wishing a fine Friday to today’s contributors, including Taylor Graham, who writes to us about New Year’s and burning away 2020. Some of her poetry is in forms: the Cywydd deuair hirion (“Light Pollution”); an EIEIO (“Pencil Stub”); a Kyrielle (“Old Year's End”); a Rondelet (“Echocardiogram”); plus a Haibun; and a Weird Little Thing (“Sailing the Pirate Waves”) from an online random words prompt. I hereby declare this an actual form, and have added it to Medusa’s Form Finde below, attributing it to Taylor Graham. Thanks, as always, to this talented user-of-forms!
Don’t forget Fridays, 7:30pm (tonight!): Video poetry readings on Facebook by Davis Poet Laureate James Lee Jobe at james-lee-jobe.blogspot.com or youtube.com/jamesleejobe.
And now it’s time for…
____________________
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
Here’s Claire Baker, sending us a clever Rondeau about time and kismet, which is always on our minds at New Year’s, yes?
KISMET
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Let’s circle life & all our friends,
share the garden, make amends
with happy Hi’s & few Goodbyes.
We’ll sow & reap, uplift & fly—
our Stories more begin, than end.
Rejecting time because it rends
our roots, while fantasy can lend
a freshness, open wide the sky,
let’s circle life,
as Fortune favors those who fend
off lows for sweeter dividends,
flowing with When & Who & Why—
a turkey sandwich, apple pie?
Let’s circle Life.
Carol Louise Moon has sent some some Lunes. She says, “The Lune form was invented by poet Robert Kelly: 13 syllables total, 5-3-5, similar to haiku.”
THREE LUNES
—Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
1. MUSICAL TAIL
tail feathers in flight
Snipe-reed-flute
hu-hu-hu-hu-hu
* * *
2. NOW IS THE TIME
moons of Jupiter
telescope
these playground marbles
* * *
3. BIRD
Turnstones—egg pirates
sinister
among peaceful birds
___________________
FIDDLER’S FIND-A-FORM!
New feature! Poems will be presented here without any labels as to what form they are—that’s for YOU to figure out. Let me know what you find, and don’t be shy. Who cares if it’s wrong?
About his poem below, Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) says, “When I came to the puzzles section [in the Sacramento Bee last Friday], I saw that word [“Surfeit”] and felt guilty that in all my years or schooling and beyond, I had never once used it in writing or conversation. Nor did my teachers ever put it in a vocabulary or spelling test. So, just to catch up a little bit, I thought I’d play with ‘surfeit’ in a poem.” He then goes on to say what the form is. Can you find it?
SURFEIT
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
I have NEVER been to the East Coast, but
am destined to never do that, because they are
surrounded by cold, by frigid, by brrr,
by snow in every shape and form and by
a weather front promising to bring a
surfeit of more cold weather, so painfully more
of that cold than suits a Southern Californian, as
angry and disgruntled as those unhappy, devilish
elves who realize they won’t get their own way,
forcing smiles onto little kids’ faces, but not
me, I’m going to stay right here where I get
to set my thermostat in the high seventies and
write poems without freezing off my fingers
this and every time I sit down to type
About his poem below, Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) says, “When I came to the puzzles section [in the Sacramento Bee last Friday], I saw that word [“Surfeit”] and felt guilty that in all my years or schooling and beyond, I had never once used it in writing or conversation. Nor did my teachers ever put it in a vocabulary or spelling test. So, just to catch up a little bit, I thought I’d play with ‘surfeit’ in a poem.” He then goes on to say what the form is. Can you find it?
SURFEIT
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
I have NEVER been to the East Coast, but
am destined to never do that, because they are
surrounded by cold, by frigid, by brrr,
by snow in every shape and form and by
a weather front promising to bring a
surfeit of more cold weather, so painfully more
of that cold than suits a Southern Californian, as
angry and disgruntled as those unhappy, devilish
elves who realize they won’t get their own way,
forcing smiles onto little kids’ faces, but not
me, I’m going to stay right here where I get
to set my thermostat in the high seventies and
write poems without freezing off my fingers
this and every time I sit down to type
Here is a Cywydd deuair hirion:
NOWHERE TO HYDD
—Caschwa
now here is nowhere to hydd
your hide, all see the seaside
beaches with nothing to wear;
one would wish they were elsewhere
dogs and cats can be that way
Sunday through to Saturday
your wardrobe will stay home while
you have less than one argyle,
sporting an image all nude
makes you have an attitude;
even if nothing occurred
it blocks the path to onward
likely it was an inside
job, designed to hurt your pride
This is a Tercet, rhymed abb cdd etc.:
THE NEXT DAY
—Caschwa
very lonely totter
without a teeter
no accent, no meter
reader to write down
tallies of consumption
date of resumption
the dwelling caught fire
from flooring to rafter
no dose of laughter
could survive the flames
of claims, lawsuits,
unfunded pursuits
Reconstruction, again?
political quarrels
not trees, victor laurels
worn by gladiators
of reputation games
celebrating their names
And here is a Weird Little Thing from Carl:
THOUGHTS THAT LINGER
—Caschwa
did Beethoven stop at 9 symphonies
because he was missing a finger?
I didn’t hear you call at the door,
must be a dead ringer
Oh, Carl. Puns are so painful…
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!
__________________
FIDDLERS’ CHALLENGE! snake/pen
See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) Last week’s was the Cywydd deuair hirion, and both Taylor Graham and Caschwa sent their examples of that form. This week’s challenge is the Lento (www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lento.html).
__________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:
•••Cywydd deuair hirion: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/tag/isosyllabic-7
•••EIO (or EIEIO): 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
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Kyrielle: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/kyrielle.html
•••Lento: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lento.html
•••Lune: www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-lune-poetry#what-is-lune-poetry OR
www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/poetic-form-lune
•••Ottava Rima: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/ottava-rima-poetic-form
•••Rondeau: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/rondeau
•••Rondelet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/rondelet-poetic-forms
•••Tercet: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/tercet
•••Weird Little Thing (WLT): that which is in some sort of form that suits it but doesn’t have an official form title (Taylor Graham)
__________________
—Medusa
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!
__________________
FIDDLERS’ CHALLENGE! snake/pen
See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) Last week’s was the Cywydd deuair hirion, and both Taylor Graham and Caschwa sent their examples of that form. This week’s challenge is the Lento (www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lento.html).
__________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry forms mentioned today:
•••Cywydd deuair hirion: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/tag/isosyllabic-7
•••EIO (or EIEIO): 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
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Kyrielle: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/kyrielle.html
•••Lento: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lento.html
•••Lune: www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-write-lune-poetry#what-is-lune-poetry OR
www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/poetic-form-lune
•••Ottava Rima: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/ottava-rima-poetic-form
•••Rondeau: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/rondeau
•••Rondelet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/rondelet-poetic-forms
•••Tercet: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/tercet
•••Weird Little Thing (WLT): that which is in some sort of form that suits it but doesn’t have an official form title (Taylor Graham)
__________________
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