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Friday, February 19, 2021

Latches in Love

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



THE BOY WHO LOVES BLUE

hunts sapphire dragonflies along the creek
and searches for the turtle blue as sea.
He knows a string of stories, azure beads
be-speckled with the dust of every land;

so many fables, all of them quite true
in a young boy’s mind, vibrant as a week
of Saturdays. Holes in pockets, he reads
and memorizes, tries to understand

the lessons taught at school. But every text
denies that there’s a lamb with cobalt eyes
who dares to walk among the wildest beasts.
Yet this boy holds blue heaven in his hand,

adventuring the way that larkspur leads
and loving sky-blue wind upon his cheek. 
 
 
 


 
LOVERS IN ECLIPSE

When day went dark as night
it took our breath away
like love, the pulse at bay.
We stood in awe.

Eclipse. Realm of science
and myth and history,
poem and mystery.
We were the myth.

And when the Moon passed on
and Sun again shone bright—
relief? regret? Our sight
was each to each.

And subtly we are changed
though we can’t say just why.
Did you feel we could fly
in flame-crowned dark? 
 
 
 

 

DOUBLE MASKING

Of all these covered faces, gauge the eyes—
the worry-clouded; not quite crazy-bored;
and those preoccupied with countless why?s
as if unanswered questions massed a hoard
of gold. And that one gazing with surprise
at unknowns looming if one pulls the cord.
We never thought the masquerade could last
beyond a midnight ball already past. 
 
 
 

 
 
LATCHES IN LOVE

Housecat Latches is in love with the flitter of bird, skitter-dance for leavings on our icy deck—Dark-eyed Junco, White-crowned Sparrow— for seed kicked from the hanging feeder by Oak Titmouse, House Finch and, look! a woodpecker toenail-gripping the swinging feeder’s rim. Latches is in love, chitter-shiver of delight, unrequited love—sliding-glass door pulled tight between. In between, she sharpens her cupid-hunter claws and I consult my bird guide. What kind of woodpecker, ladder-back, could it be Nuttall’s? And now a Spotted Towhee, my favorite, and White-breasted Nuthatch, another fave. Latches and I in love with the image of bird we can’t achieve, its secrets—

life on frosty limbs,
getting along on frozen
ground—its flight, its song. 
 
 
 

 
 
FEBRUARY APPARITION

Sun strikes new winter grass, a jubilation
on earth, first day warm enough to walk
the hill in shirt-sleeves,
and I sense a presence—
young dog leaping a joy-dance, grabbing
a storm-fall branch lance-like, tatter
of lichen swinging from its tip—a banner.
Young dog stretching out in a long
bounding stride as if for take-off into sky
at long-last blue.
This is how I remember,
a shining day short of spring,
season of promises; a dog long gone
still joy-dancing, stretching to reach me
through the filament of time. 
 
 
 

 
 
2020, NO ROBINS

But this chill morn, past
dawn, a flurry of robins
for berries among
the thorn, berries that haven’t
plumped yet for lack of
rain. No robins last year, its
calendar torn. Birds
this dim morning sensing storm,
gorging on seed but
leaving the corn. Robins in
the field, and storming
the firethorn for its berries.
This gray dawn you’d call forlorn.
Red-breasts, red berries this morn. 
 
 
 

 
 
Today’s LittleNip:

RYŪKA
—Taylor Graham

A woman in dishwater gray
on the overpass between storms
as sun broke through, touching her hair,
her dress, releasing its rainbows.

____________________

Good morning, and many thanks to Taylor Graham for lovely photos and poems, including some forms to keep us on our toes! We’re still hung over from St. Valentine’s Day, and love poems remind us to be kind to each other and try to bring some peace to our little corners of the world.

And now it’s time for. . .

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. (From this point on, photos and illustrations are courtesy of public domain.)

Taylor’s forms today (see above) include a Bref Double (“The Boy Who Loves Blue”); an Abhanga (“Lovers in Eclipse”); an Ottava Rima (“Double Masking”); a Ryūka (“Ryūka”); a Choka (“2020, No Robins”); and a Haibun (“Latches in Love”). 
 
Joyce Odam has sent us a Cinquain today, a form which was “invented” by Adelaide Crapsey. For more about that, see www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/adelaide-crapsey/. And thank you, Joyce!


CINQUAIN FOR SAD LOVE SONGS
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento, CA

And love
is what we want
to know before we know
too much—and even then, we want
to love.
 
 
Adelaide Crapsey, 1878-1914
 
 

Claire Baker has sent us a Rubaiyat Chain, saying that it’s “after Omar Khayyam’s Quatrains. I thought it might work to string them together”:


YOSEMITE VALLEY RUBAIYATS
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

When sunrise brightens every snowy tree
and déjà vu adds ancient history,
we photograph a log’s design in frost,
envision our departure distantly.

We’re angels swishing arms in powdered snow,
creating wings in chiseled cameo.
Let’s stay forever, wrapped against the cold
within the Valley’s ivory gleam and glow…

On summer nights we watched the fire fall
in embers stark against a granite wall.
Still young and fit to climb each highest peak
one day we stood on Half Dome, proud and tall.

Snowflakes fleck our lashes, whiten hair.
May love like tree rings mark the year with care,
Back home we’d pity maples stripped of leaves,
But snow-heaped branches here are hardly bare.


(prev. pub. in Blue Unicorn, Fall 2020) 
 
 
 
Here are two Lunes from Carol Louise Moon this week:
 
 
 

 

TWO LUNES
—Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA

White Birds

icy ocean bath
Arctic Terns—
ten ice cubes bobbing

Musical

loud trumpeting call
Whooping Cranes
savannah concerts


(prev. pub. in Poets’ Forum Magazine, 1996)
 
 
 
 

 
Here’s Carl Schwartz (Caschwa)’s buffet this week, starting with a Dansa:


REMOTE OUT OF CONTROL
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

we hid it far too well
completely out of sight
our senses then took flight
with no locator bell
we hid it far too well

neat sofa turned to blight
our nerves then got real tight
mere whisper became yell
we hid it far too well

we’ll never get this right
it’s sapping all our might
a storm we cannot quell
we hid it far too well 
 
 
 

 

Next, he brings us a bouquet of Bokettos:


PERSONIFIED
—Caschwa

old view: the clothes make the man
but now days, everybody
takes selfies focused on face
the clothes don’t show
expressions rule all

emotional state of mind
hate, anger, disgust, frenzy
get a grip

second impeachment trial
did top guy reach the bottom?
it looked like a prison riot
just a little
will set it off big

emotional state of mind
hate, anger, disgust, frenzy
get a grip

well-dressed lawyers trade praises,
barbs, slick tricks, insults, until
they pause, only to yield time
since they really
have no more to add

emotional state of mind
hate, anger, disgust, frenzy
get a grip

Civil War comes back anew
Reconstruction left its mark
the band aids have fallen off
same problem now
we didn’t fix it

emotional state of mind
hate, anger, disgust, frenzy
get a grip 
 
 

 
 
It’s almost time for the Trilliums to bloom; here are some Golden ones from Carl:


OPAQUE  (Golden Trillium Triads)
—Caschwa

Whistle

trained ears are ready
for the cue to pounce and prey
they are off the leash

Gambit

fingers do not touch
or move the King or the Queen
rather, it’s the pawns

Smug

same person who closed
the best pathway, now complains
we should have used it 
 
 
Golden Trilliums
 

Carl has written us a note about the following poem: “This Abhanga poem is about an eatery in downtown Los Angeles (right across the street from Union Station) called Philippe’s. When they were courting, my dad used to take my mom there for French Dip sandwiches, which then cost 10 cents each. Today they go for $9.25.”


LIMITS
—Caschwa

family favorite
Los Angeles diner
best French dip, no finer
everyone pleased

beware their horseradish!
hotter than most would dare
burns tongues and cheeks with flair
I say no thanks

some people just love it
use gobs and gobs no sweat
and when it’s gone they get
up and grab more

to keep my mouth intact
I choose much milder stuff
no dragon, I, with puff
of burning fire
 
 
 

 
Carl’s final poem today is an Acrostic, the answer to which is “they do arduous chores in the arctic circle”. See if you can figure out how he got that:


LIFE IS TOUGH
—Caschwa

they don’t care about library
due dates to return books,
are not particularly worried what
Jewish laws pertain to the cooking
chores at hand, they just relax
in little groups that meet at
the temple, sit beside the Torah
ark, and discuss what makes them
tick, while social distancing in a
circle

__________________

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!  

See what you can make of this week’s poetry form, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) This week's challenge:


Amanda’s Pinch: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/amandas-pinch

__________________

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

•••Abhanga: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/abhanga
•••Acrostic: literarydevices.net/acrostic
•••Amanda’s Pinch: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/amandas-pinch
•••Boketto (“Listen to the Light”):
poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com2016/05/11/inform-poets-boketto
•••Bref Double: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/bref-double-poetic-form
•••Choka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka OR poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka
•••Cinquain: poets.org/glossary/cinquain OR www.poewar.com/poetry-in-forms-series-cinquain
•••Dansa: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/dansa-poetic-forms
•••Golden Trillium Triads: 3 stanzas of 3 lines each, 5-7-5; each could stand on its own as a short poem. Each has subtitle that refers to a different aspect of subject chosen, and has brief image suggested by title. Poem is unified by one-word titles.
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••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
•••Quatrain: www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-a-quatrain-in-poetry-quatrain-definition-with-examples#quiz-0
•••Rubáiyát: www.baymoon.com/~ariadne/form/rubaiyat.htm
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka


_____________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
Snowing now in Saudi?? Well,
it’s a topsy-turvy world these days…
All the more to write about!
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy
 of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



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