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Friday, April 01, 2022

A Glimpse of Blessing

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



WONDER-WANDER

I love
mysteries before
they’re solved—the journey sweeter than
the arrival—things that keep their
secrets to
themselves keep
me wondering. 
 
 
 

 

DRY MARCH

So long since it’s rained
wild grasses droop for water
to lift the head high

This bottle measures
the daily dose of water
to lift the head high
to strengthen the walked-out legs
so he can keep on walking. 
 
 
 

 
 
ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Car packed roof to tail-
gate with jet-skis, innertube—
everything they own
it seems, for a vacation—
passes brightly by

drab man in wool cap
& old boots, hunched under
everything he owns. 
 
 
 

 
 
GINGER FROG

My nature app won’t give me a proper
name for it, Genus & species. Frogs and Toads,
it says, as if it expected such a zippy critter
to sit still on a blank sheet of white paper
for photo-op/ID.
This tiny creature, no bigger than a dead leaf,
blends in like ground ginger in a recipe
making something special. Ginger-pale skin
as smooth as ginger-root. A swash-
buckler stroke of zesty dark above its unblinking
eye, as I try to focus at a better angle
as if I expected
a frog to wait patient with me, any more
than my roving dog, Loki, who takes advantage
of my ground-absorbed pose
to fly off searching a gap in fence
to disappear into landscape, agouti-camo
shape-shifter that she is. And there
goes the frog. 
 
 
 

 
 
PRETZEL TWIST?

I tried that yoga pose
but I’m no

cat 
 
 
 



POEM AS HAPPINESS

Try to plan for happiness, and the bird
one hopes to trap perishes in the invisible net

while, high overhead, sandhill cranes pass
so unexpected, I catch just a glimpse of blessing.

I was asked, are you happy? I said, happiness
isn’t the point. But I was happy for most of a day

after accomplishing a single cut through
compression of oak-log partly buried in earth.

Fearsome chainsaw started the kerf.
I finished with bowsaw, mallet and wedge:

a messed-up job, but muscle-ache feels like
happiness. Sunlight silvers sawdust

and turns unmowed meadow-grass green-
golden. How could I not be happy? 
 
 
 

 

Today's LittleNip:

RESOLUTE
—Taylor Graham

Periwinkle blooms
after raider sheep came through;
dandelion thrusts
its yellow head through pavement—
living colors of Ukraine.

____________________

Happy April Fools’ Day!—but there’s no fooling’ around in the Kitchen, just good poetry and photos from Taylor Graham to celebrate spring in the foothills. Poppies! Drive around and see them in all their 2022 cheer—more than a glimpse of blessing!

Here are the forms TG used this week:the Trinet (“Wonder-Wander”); the Hainka (“Dry March”); an Upside-Down Hainka —a Tanku? (“On the Road Again”); the Ars Poetica (“Poem as Happiness”); the Tilus, based on Medusa's Ekphrastic Challenge last Friday, her cat, Latches (“Pretzel Twist?”); and a Tanka that is also Medusa's Ekphrastic Challenge from the previous week, a dandelion growing out of cracks in the cement (“Resolute”).

National Poetry Month starts today, April 1! Mark your calendar and go to poets.org/national-poetry-month for all the scoop and skinny about 30 Ways to Celebrate National Poetry Month from Academy of American Poets, including Poem-a-Day, Poem in Your Pocket Day, and how to obtain a free National Poetry Month poster.

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 featured Taylor Graham’s cat, Latches. Stephen Kingsnorth and Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) responded to it in their usual fine fettle. Note that Stephen’s poem deals with his Parkinson’s disease—something he/we haven’t talked about in the Kitchen, though I knew that was why he retired early from the Methodist ministry. And although he isn’t from the U.S., he could be a poster child for our National Poetry Month because of the way poetry has filled the void left in his life by the loss of some other things. Note, also, that in this poem, Stephen has found ways to accept the difficulties that PD has brought—an approach that is curiously cat-like (love the plays on words, like “cat o’ nine tails”). Our thoughts are with you, Stephen. Here are Carl and Stephen's poems:
 
 
 
Latches, Last week's Ekphrastic Challenge
—Photo by Taylor Graham
 


CAT FLAP
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales, UK

This challenge, I thought, brought defeat,
limbs entangled, beyond the norm,
adjust to disobedient form.
Feet, metre counts so intertwined,
imperial and decimal,
dance measures mixed in pent ‘I am’s.
Though moving, pause, intended plan,
Floppy, if purposeful intent,
it’s PD, Parky, Parkinson’s,
quinine assigned, timed dopamine,
cat o’ nine tales, my PD lives.

First legless time, heels over head,
from muscle twitches, lead undreamt,
such heavy legs for night time fling. . .
No more parkour, cross leaping rooves,
fencing, swordplay or cedarwood,
fiddle, laydown, bow, catgut strings.
Cat flap is more my state of mind;
drat, trap, core found in such a bind,
note, no gloss to the jet black mind,
feel line, like white stick, walking blind,
though tightrope stalking, toes behind.

My flexing, cat out of the bag,
then offer, Zoom, dance, ballet steps,
this scaredy cat, ‘No’ clause withdrawn.
From armchair raising arm in air,
lift padding feat, type other feet,
no cat in hell chance, at first glance.
Living, no room to swing about,
but new doors open, key locks turned,
bound muscle cue to movement sound,
so model prance is my catwalk,
and all because that latch was found.

* * *

BORED WITH CONVENTION
—Caschwa   

Americans share constant urges to
breathe, eat, and communicate,
but after too much of the same old
daily grind, a little variety is welcome

which maybe partly explains the new
phenomenon of editors giving rubber
stamp acceptance to material that not
long ago would have been unacceptable

it is that comfort zone of sex, lies, and
rock and roll, punctuated with profanity,
plus abundant gobs of corporate greed,
racial purity, and exponential apathy

our esteemed history of who did what
to whom on what date now serves as
carrion for vultures to snack on and
excrete as Hollywood movies

the very same letters and numerals our
prim and proper elementary school
teachers had us memorize, now have
no meaning if not imprinted on money 
 
 
 
 


Here is Carl’s Rispetto chain on the subject of Nonsense, this week’s Seed of the Week in Medusa’s Kitchen:


THE WORLD’S BIGGEST FARCE
—Caschwa

never before in the history of our
overtly American jurisprudence
has a foreign dictator managed to sour
the chain of command twixt teachers and students

what better way to see our top secret plans,
all the logic behind those nuclear bans,
than to help install as head of our nation
an insidious, wicked imitation?

lo and behold, the puppet pulled all the strings
and the media chewed on those doggie bones
while the dictator bided time in the wings
tapping our technology, making his clones

smugly holding our military in check
while dealing his cards from both ends of the deck
invading the sovereign nation of Ukraine
leaving only destruction, death, and raw pain

it’s alleged that he doesn’t get the real news
because no one around him dares to speak up
they keep him surrounded with beautiful views
and offer no more than will fit in his cup

his puppet is heading to jail for his crimes,
a mere ripple upon the sign of our times
where the Congress is feuding itself to shreds
having lost sight of why they even have heads 
 
 
 
Watch that nose! 
 
 

This next poem is a response from Caschwa to last Friday’s Triple-F Challenge, the Ars Poetica. See medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/2022/03/clearing-firethorn.html (and scroll down) for Stephen’s “Bling” poem that Caschwa is talking about. See also Taylor Graham’s poem above, “Poem As Happiness” for another fine example. The Ars Poetica (www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica/) is/was a great way to celebrate National Poetry Month! Don’t forget to write a dozen of them or so before April is over.


BLING AND YOU MISS IT
—Caschwa

(An Ars Poetica response to
the verse of Stephen Kingsnorth,
Medusa’s Kitchen, March 25,
2022)  



writing poetry brings forth muscle
groups we may not know we had,
as if the poet is suddenly placed on
the seat at a triple-manual organ,
where two left feet blindly study the
layout of visceral-tuned pedals, which
render the poet unable to genuflect
in proper obedience to a higher power,
the only option is to add a circumflex
to help define the poet’s rôle 
 
 
 

 
And Carl’s last poem is what he calls “a first-letter Acrostic, with a dash of Ars Poetica and a pinch of Nonsense”:


REAL ESTATE
—Caschwa

Moving words around all kinds
Of ways until the exact and proper
Nuances are permanently
Entrenched in the huddled masses
Yearning to breathe free, blindly
Ignorant of the dominant power that
Superlatives have on each and every
Atom of all material things
Living on this Earth, visible in the
Layered strata of eons upon eons of
Timelines etched on canyon walls, the
Highest and best use principle
Advanced by modern corporate interests
To downgrade the role of common
Man to serve the role of landowners
As if we had not won a revolutionary war
To replace a brutal autocrat with
The consent of the governed, the
Exception proves the
Rule
Sign here ______________________

_____________________

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!

_____________________

TRIPLE-F CHALLENGE!  

See what you can make of these poetry forms, and send one or both of of your results to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) This week's challenge is the sweet little

•••Musette: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/musette.html

amdor another -ette, one we’ve done before, the Trinet (see Taylor Graham’s “Wonder-Wander” example above).

•••Trinet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/trinet-poetic-forms

Also go to the bottom of this post for another challenge—this one an Ekphrastic one!

_______________________

RESOURCE OF THE WEEK:

•••Terms for Large Groups of Animals: arapahoelibraries.org/blogs/post/names-for-groups-of-animals

_______________________

MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today: 
 
•••Rispetto: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/poetic-forms-rispetto
•••Tercet: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/tercet
•••Tilus (tee-loo-uz): www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/tilus-poetic-forms
•••Trinet: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/trinet-poetic-forms
•••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
 
 
 
 Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
—Public Domain Photo
 
See what you can make of the above

photo, and send your poetic results to 

kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
 
 
 















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.
 
Drowsing Around the Poppies ~