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Friday, September 17, 2021

The Forest Will Be Back

 
—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And scroll down for FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!!



MAKING THEMSELVES AT HOME

The orders sent chills: evacuate NOW!

Coming from the west over the summit, a high
red flush not sunset, pyro-cloud
spewing live embers igniting the outskirts of town.

People packed what they couldn’t bear
to leave, leaving their homes behind.

Tangled lines of cars SUVs pickups trailers
wove themselves into one way out.

Fire drove the bears too, from their burning
home to deserted town, its leavings. Trash cans,
refrigerators, spice-racks.

Reports of break-ins as firefighters
saved houses, looter bears. 
 
 
 
 


CARETAKERS

Above the TV flashing wildfire news,
this photo from decades past, Elephant
Man at wild animal sanctuary.
Gray coveralls wrinkle human contours
as he leads two young elephants placid,
silent, slow. And this drawing on the wall,
an owl in a tree—not on the tree, but
one with tree; owl Guardian of the Grove.
The Elephant Man has graced our walls for
decades, house after house as we move through
our lives. I discovered the owl this June.
By August its tree may already be
char. And our house? An ember could send us
packing. I‘ll take the Elephant Man and
the Guardian of the Grove off the wall. 
 
 
 

 
 
PAINTED HORSE

He gallops to show what feet are for.
His legs are wind-vanes making sails of his mane.
The caretakers of feet keep him in a frame
so he won’t escape through the mirror window.
You with your bad feet and worse vision,
you say he’s cockeyed as you walk crooked
as if hobbled out the door.
Later, you’ll tell me how you traveled winds
over mountains on a horse, how you ran
the hills and climbed the canyons
on your two good feet. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
WALKING MY DOG

Gray-sable among rocks, dry stubble, deadfall,
she goes hunting harking September’s warning call. 
 
 
 

 
 
AFTER A BIT OF RAIN

Dawn’s alive with birds
I haven’t seen all summer,
robin pecking dew,
woodpeckers oak to oak flight-
dancing in pairs—is it spring? 
 
 
 



ON THE EDGE OF BURN-LINE

A wide swath’s newly cleared on fire-leap side of road
to keep those flames away that by the midnight glowed.

I stick to the margins, wary of spark’s mad dash,
and leave my line of thoughts printed in dust and ash.

“Thank You Firefighters” signs are lined up all along
as wind goes wild singing its own firefighters’ song.

On every side is char, pine skeletons in black—
Raven calls from higher, the forest will be back. 
 
 
 

 
 
Today’s LittleNip:

HOME IS….
—Taylor Graham

The virus was making him foam
with itching and longing to roam.
At last came the vax
and then came evacs
and now he just longs to go home.

____________________

Taylor Graham continues to send word of the fires in the foothills with her colorful, you-are-there style—and many thanks to her for that! She has also managed to weave in Medusa’s recent Seed of the Week: Caretakers. Fortunately for all of us up here, the fires are more-or-less under control by our "caretakers". For now.

Forms that TG has sent us this week include the Word-Can Poem (“Making Themselves at Home”); the wily Limerick (“Home Is….”); some Blank Verse (“Caretakers”); an Ekphrastic Poem (“Painted Horse”); a Tanka (“After a Bit of Rain”); and two Alexandrine couplets (“Walking My Dog” & “On the Edge of Burn-Line”). “Painted Horse” was inspired by William Zaranka's "A Mirror Driven through Nature" (
Medusa’s Kitchen, Thurs., 9/9/21).

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.)

Carl Schwartz is providing the entertainment today with three fine poems. First, last Friday’s Fiddlers’ Challenge, the Alexandrine couplet:



YUCK  
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

put foot into my mouth and wiggled all my toes
not analog nor digital, good time, who knows?

***

a very hefty bounty rested on his head
adept at making enemies, they shot him dead

***

there comes a time when all good men must go to sleep 
The Late, Late Show is a repeat, the bed awaits 
 
 
 

 
 
Next, Carl has cooked up “Of Course It Was”, another form of his which scans like this:

Structure:       4 quatrains (abab)
                      10 syllable lines
                      Stanzas alternate iambic-trochaic
 
Inspired by:  Recent political garbage that, if a certain side doesn’t win an election, it was rigged



OF COURSE IT WAS 
—Caschwa

if everyone taking the bar exam
was convinced they would easily pass it
their failure would cause them to scream “hot damn!”
it must have been rigged, now ain’t that some shit

no one would lose at the Olympic Games
every contest was made to be won
who’s first at Indy? it’s infinite names
there’d be no losers, you son of a gun

a host of suiters all at once propose
the bashful girl must make a choice or two
each one is kneeling, handing her a rose
she picks them all, so none will be too blue

crowded winner’s circle of The Preakness
the jockeys signing autographs for fans
horses have no flaws or any weakness
all take first place, leaving no also-rans 
 
 
 


 
Finally, a Haibun, which Carl says is "addressing these times when we are constantly bombarded with other peoples’ bad choices, prompting the question:  What would Medusa do?"


NEVER AGAIN MMXXI
—Caschwa

capital crimes—they won’t hurt us again
witch burning—and that’s the end of that
the war to end all wars—there’s really no way to win
terrorist attacks—cannot answer with a hat

our atrocities
bury us with bad choices…
the problem persists


Frankly, I have no idea what Medusa would do. She basically keeps herself to herself (as the Brits say), except when she has snakes to feed… Or goes to the beach:
 




 
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!  

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

•••Awdl Gywydd (a Welsh form): www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/awdl-gywydd-poetic-forms

__________________

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

•••Alexandrine: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms?category=209
•••Awdl Gywyddd: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/awdl-gywydd-poetic-forms
•••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
•••Ekphrastic: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Limerick: poets.org/glossary/limerick
•••Word-Can Poem: putting random words on slips of paper into a can, then drawing out a few and making a poem out of them.

__________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
Try writing an Awdl Gywydd about the egret~
—Public Domain Photo
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




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