—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
—And scroll down for Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!
ENOUGH OF THAT
I’m driving in circles in the business park,
trying to find the vacant lot abloom
with coyote bush. Too much new development,
too many changes, and with every turn
the compass in my car registers “S.” I’m lost
in South. I stop, consult the owner’s manual—
no mention of compass, only the clock.
I guess Time trumps Direction.
I keep on driving. And there, in silhouette
against blue sky, jaws-agape, T. Rex
rears on monstrous thighs. Synthetic saurus.
What new enterprise does that
represent in our constantly evolving world?
I’m driving in circles in the business park,
trying to find the vacant lot abloom
with coyote bush. Too much new development,
too many changes, and with every turn
the compass in my car registers “S.” I’m lost
in South. I stop, consult the owner’s manual—
no mention of compass, only the clock.
I guess Time trumps Direction.
I keep on driving. And there, in silhouette
against blue sky, jaws-agape, T. Rex
rears on monstrous thighs. Synthetic saurus.
What new enterprise does that
represent in our constantly evolving world?
NO POETRY POEMS,
he declared, and after all, he was
professor of English Poetry.
So I kept Poetry out of my poems
for years of writing with no mention
of Poetry, and then more years
of switching-off the Muse
and then begging her to come back
because how could I live
without her? And what is a poem
without poetry?
(response to Yolanda Wisher’s “no more grandma poems”)
he declared, and after all, he was
professor of English Poetry.
So I kept Poetry out of my poems
for years of writing with no mention
of Poetry, and then more years
of switching-off the Muse
and then begging her to come back
because how could I live
without her? And what is a poem
without poetry?
(response to Yolanda Wisher’s “no more grandma poems”)
A CAT’S EASE
I thought cats were never lonesome—
don’t they always have themselves
for companionship and purr?
So why does our black cat Latches
station himself at the front door
when he hears a footstep on the stair?
Not any footstep, not my footstep,
only your two stout sticks leading you
halting, balancing, slowly up each stair.
And when you’re safe inside
he leaves his post to find his basket
because a cat is never lonesome.
CHRISTMAS POPPIES
Strange weather comes our way this year,
blooming poppies in December
all golden-orange for Christmas cheer.
Strange weather comes our way this year,
it must mean climate-change, I fear—
each flower-cup flaming ember.
Strange weather comes our way this year,
blooming poppies in December.
NATURE’S BYWAYS
If there’s a culvert-hollow hidden by lush spring green, Fox kit will find it, dark and cozy as a womb, safe from human boots trampling grass between highway shoulder and pasture field-fence while Mother Fox hunts breakfast. Human tramping for Nature, checking nest boxes on pasture fence for blue-birdlings, titmouse chicks, eggs of nuthatch, flycatcher, wren—
each nest box so dark,
peaceful and cozy—till some
human comes along.
ALLURES
He remembers
a childhood home
too far away
to find again,
except the mind
drifts in, drifts out.
No house stands tall,
firm-planted, stout.
Those Decembers,
a sparkling dome,
elves in a sleigh—
remember when
two wreaths entwined
and round about
the crystals fall
in joyous shout.
Late Septembers,
gold leaves on loam.
Nothing can stay.
The winter wren
he couldn’t find—
was it the drought?
It withers all
within, without.
And all embers,
fancy and foam,
snowflakes at play.
And then? and then?
What lies behind?
A seed to sprout,
a summons call.
He was a scout….
He remembers
a childhood home
too far away
to find again,
except the mind
drifts in, drifts out.
No house stands tall,
firm-planted, stout.
Those Decembers,
a sparkling dome,
elves in a sleigh—
remember when
two wreaths entwined
and round about
the crystals fall
in joyous shout.
Late Septembers,
gold leaves on loam.
Nothing can stay.
The winter wren
he couldn’t find—
was it the drought?
It withers all
within, without.
And all embers,
fancy and foam,
snowflakes at play.
And then? and then?
What lies behind?
A seed to sprout,
a summons call.
He was a scout….
Today’s LittleNip:
SONG FOR LOOSE ENDS
—Taylor Graham
briefest verse for
old cottonwood leaves giving off
a whole summer’s sun
_____________________
Many thanks to Taylor Graham for her seasonal poems and pix today! Forms she has sent us include a Response Poem (“No Poetry Poems,”); a Haiku (“Song for Loose Ends”); a Triversen (“A Cat's Ease”); a Triolet (“Christmas Poppies”); a Haibun (also Medusa's Ekphrastic Challenge from last week, “Nature's Byways”) and an A L'Arora (“Allures”).
SONG FOR LOOSE ENDS
—Taylor Graham
briefest verse for
old cottonwood leaves giving off
a whole summer’s sun
_____________________
Many thanks to Taylor Graham for her seasonal poems and pix today! Forms she has sent us include a Response Poem (“No Poetry Poems,”); a Haiku (“Song for Loose Ends”); a Triversen (“A Cat's Ease”); a Triolet (“Christmas Poppies”); a Haibun (also Medusa's Ekphrastic Challenge from last week, “Nature's Byways”) and an A L'Arora (“Allures”).
•••Tonight (Fri., 12/10), 7-8:30pm, Sac. Poetry Alliance and El Gigante present An Evening With Marsha de la O plus open mic on Zoom at cccconfer.zoom.us/j/9348057923/. Host: Danny Romero. This is a Sacramento City College program in collaboration with the Center on Race, Immigration and Social Justice at Cal. State University, Sacramento.
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, there will be poems posted here from our readers using forms—either ones which were sent to 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 resources and for links to poetry terms used today.)
Last Friday’s Ekphrastic Challenge was about this winsome little fox:
Here is Stephen Kingsnorth’s take on him:
CRAFT
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK
It is all in perspective,
the angle that you take,
a brush with death in coop, as pelt,
a hanging by the neck.
My first, kid in museum,
glass boxes stuffed with fur,
fine whiskers, a scene, in close-up,
some mummy with her cubs.
They’re now an urban legend,
night tipping over bins—
while I turn my Volpone leaves,
or Aesop’s twenty eight.
Nurtured, fifties, on the Brers,
tar babies—Dad’s fag ends,
’twas all laid down, a cunning plan,
with pre-determined sum.
Now we watch the killer whales,
strategies on the veldt,
the hunting schemes of those, redcoats—
why is the fox marked out?
I recall pulling curtains,
four frolic on the turf,
on course they go for chicken mash—
my own menu tonight.
Slow flow slide ice under tongue,
brand Fox’s, glacier,
that was the mint found pocket dust,
one long tongue sucking chance.
CRAFT
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK
It is all in perspective,
the angle that you take,
a brush with death in coop, as pelt,
a hanging by the neck.
My first, kid in museum,
glass boxes stuffed with fur,
fine whiskers, a scene, in close-up,
some mummy with her cubs.
They’re now an urban legend,
night tipping over bins—
while I turn my Volpone leaves,
or Aesop’s twenty eight.
Nurtured, fifties, on the Brers,
tar babies—Dad’s fag ends,
’twas all laid down, a cunning plan,
with pre-determined sum.
Now we watch the killer whales,
strategies on the veldt,
the hunting schemes of those, redcoats—
why is the fox marked out?
I recall pulling curtains,
four frolic on the turf,
on course they go for chicken mash—
my own menu tonight.
Slow flow slide ice under tongue,
brand Fox’s, glacier,
that was the mint found pocket dust,
one long tongue sucking chance.
Here is Caschwa’s poem about the fox:
BUILDING AN IMAGE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
screw the nature study paparazzi
I’ll go along with mother’s model
and be a stretch limo of voracious
appetite
oh, maybe here, down this hole?
driver, stop! a meal awaits me
napkin in place for saliva and blood
dynamite
I can smell the fear of my prey which
draws me yet closer to a good catch
if I’m lucky, make it a double
out of sight
tinted windows hide my hungry teeth
like some stash in the Cayman Islands
insulated from rules & regulations
loose, not tight
snout in place, there’s no escape
tongue responds with good reports
the moment is here to
take a bite
driver, find me another nice spot
the day is young, there’s more to eat
oh, maybe here, up this tree?
full and bright
Our other challenge last week was the A L’Ahora, and Caschwa has sent us one of those, as did Taylor Graham:
FILLING STATION
—Caschwa
security knows where false bottoms are
in any kind of a variety of containers
been there, done that, it is common knowledge
they could shut their eyes and find the prize
no more novelty of epiphany, not at all
but criminals just aren’t that smart
all the luggage passes through just fine
“now let’s check the framework on that cart”
spoken arguments may have false bottoms as well
hiding true intentions, misinformation, obscure
contractual obligations, footnotes to foreign expressions,
self-serving logic, expired deadlines, cornerstone
proclamations that have since been debunked, and
weather reports from fictional places
it is a fine hand of cards to call your bluff, though
once turned over, we see five aces
it’s been said that the human spirit is stronger
than ‘most anything that can happen to it,
but maybe the real secret is looking for
an empty space, a false bottom, where truth
hangs on like an eagle to its clifftop aerie
unfettered by canyons of emptiness
we provide as best we can for our offspring
until they spring off, more or less
didn’t used to carry around a false bottom
but now that I do, my britches are bigger
added one of those belts with pockets facing inward
and there’s a place in my shoe if squeezed just right
now all I need are some dirty secrets, contraband or
something to conceal while I try to fix a distant gaze
and pretend I am totally mainstream, nothing to worry about
no need to get disjointed about some purple haze
FILLING STATION
—Caschwa
security knows where false bottoms are
in any kind of a variety of containers
been there, done that, it is common knowledge
they could shut their eyes and find the prize
no more novelty of epiphany, not at all
but criminals just aren’t that smart
all the luggage passes through just fine
“now let’s check the framework on that cart”
spoken arguments may have false bottoms as well
hiding true intentions, misinformation, obscure
contractual obligations, footnotes to foreign expressions,
self-serving logic, expired deadlines, cornerstone
proclamations that have since been debunked, and
weather reports from fictional places
it is a fine hand of cards to call your bluff, though
once turned over, we see five aces
it’s been said that the human spirit is stronger
than ‘most anything that can happen to it,
but maybe the real secret is looking for
an empty space, a false bottom, where truth
hangs on like an eagle to its clifftop aerie
unfettered by canyons of emptiness
we provide as best we can for our offspring
until they spring off, more or less
didn’t used to carry around a false bottom
but now that I do, my britches are bigger
added one of those belts with pockets facing inward
and there’s a place in my shoe if squeezed just right
now all I need are some dirty secrets, contraband or
something to conceal while I try to fix a distant gaze
and pretend I am totally mainstream, nothing to worry about
no need to get disjointed about some purple haze
Caschwa has also sent us a List Poem. He says that “If other poets want to enlarge it, I’d love to read their additions.” Send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com/.
SO MANY PITCHES
—Caschwa
bomb responsibly ACME
complain responsibly high paid lawyers
drink responsibly Big Alcohol
drive responsibly muscle car makers
kill responsibly NRA
medicate responsibly Big Pharma
smoke responsibly Big Tobacco
terrorize responsibly KKK
SO MANY PITCHES
—Caschwa
bomb responsibly ACME
complain responsibly high paid lawyers
drink responsibly Big Alcohol
drive responsibly muscle car makers
kill responsibly NRA
medicate responsibly Big Pharma
smoke responsibly Big Tobacco
terrorize responsibly KKK
And, just for fun, an Acrostic Poem. The Acrostic (first letters) may not say exactly what you expect it to:
THE COURIER LEAVES A PAPER
—Caschwa
Curbside benches look nice
Even in the morning fog
Apple cider aroma sneaks up
Setting the stage for a pleasant day
Extra coffee close at hand
Afternoon tea is already brewing
Nifty cup holders guard the goods
Donuts, freshly baked, all flavors
Downtown is abuzz with holiday spirit
Everyone smiling or ready to grin
Spontaneous choral renditions abound
Icicles refract rainbows of hues
Shivers draw quick hugs from neighbors
Time is calibrated to coincide with your heart
Oh my! Let us not get too complacent
Remember there is work to be done
Dusk will bring stories, some already heard
Evening invites our angels to comfort us
Reveries from all day long collect in an album
__________________
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:
•••Nove Otto: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/noveotto.html
And see the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one!
__________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Acrostic Poem: literarydevices.net/acrostic
•••A L’Arora: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alarora.html
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Nove Otto: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/noveotto.html
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
__________________
—Medusa
THE COURIER LEAVES A PAPER
—Caschwa
Curbside benches look nice
Even in the morning fog
Apple cider aroma sneaks up
Setting the stage for a pleasant day
Extra coffee close at hand
Afternoon tea is already brewing
Nifty cup holders guard the goods
Donuts, freshly baked, all flavors
Downtown is abuzz with holiday spirit
Everyone smiling or ready to grin
Spontaneous choral renditions abound
Icicles refract rainbows of hues
Shivers draw quick hugs from neighbors
Time is calibrated to coincide with your heart
Oh my! Let us not get too complacent
Remember there is work to be done
Dusk will bring stories, some already heard
Evening invites our angels to comfort us
Reveries from all day long collect in an album
__________________
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:
•••Nove Otto: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/noveotto.html
And see the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one!
__________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Acrostic Poem: literarydevices.net/acrostic
•••A L’Arora: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alarora.html
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Nove Otto: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/noveotto.html
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
__________________
—Medusa
See what you can make of the above
photo, and send it to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of
Joseph Nolan
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
