—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!
POETRY OPEN MIC + ONE GUITAR
He wrote a song
for guitar after hearing
one of our poets read—whose
poem could it be? could we guess
the inspiration that sparked his
wordless music?
And now he plays
his guitar at open mic, each
of us wondering, whose poem
could have inspired his guitar?
Whose poem was melodic as
speechless birdsong?
He wrote a song
for guitar after hearing
one of our poets read—whose
poem could it be? could we guess
the inspiration that sparked his
wordless music?
And now he plays
his guitar at open mic, each
of us wondering, whose poem
could have inspired his guitar?
Whose poem was melodic as
speechless birdsong?
I CALL IT VANILLA EXPLOSION
This picture I found on the internet,
painting by a mountain artist, without
title. It might be a vanilla-white
funnel-cloud hovering between high sheer
cliffs. Makes me imagine 4th of July
in Yosemite, where I wouldn’t be
on a holiday weekend, except in
search of the lost. No, not a funnel-cloud.
An angel? On either side, streaks & shards
of earth-tones, a vivid motion-in-still-
life display. Not fireworks, they’re outlawed
in climate-crisis drought. Maybe it’s an
ice cream cone melting as it does its best
to save the mountains from global warming.
This picture I found on the internet,
painting by a mountain artist, without
title. It might be a vanilla-white
funnel-cloud hovering between high sheer
cliffs. Makes me imagine 4th of July
in Yosemite, where I wouldn’t be
on a holiday weekend, except in
search of the lost. No, not a funnel-cloud.
An angel? On either side, streaks & shards
of earth-tones, a vivid motion-in-still-
life display. Not fireworks, they’re outlawed
in climate-crisis drought. Maybe it’s an
ice cream cone melting as it does its best
to save the mountains from global warming.
TO CATCH THE PONY 2022
I’m following a virtual target moving
across the land. Pony Express Re-Ride progress,
on-time (green horse icon)/behind schedule (red),
on a GPS SPOT map without road signs;
mountain peaks ID’d only by elevation; lats & longs.
Why no trail reports from Nevada? What can a map
tell of June heat bludgeoning the basin, or horse-
sweat as they climb the next range? When
might the Pony reach Tahoe? Pollock, Rescue…?
Can I figure it right, to see the hand-off,
switching mochila saddlebags horse to horse?
Do my homework and hope.
A PONY NAMED HOPE
The Pony’s coming over Railroad Pass after days of Midwest cloudburst, Basin and Range, headed for impassive rise of Sierra, winter’s snowpack trickling into creeks; springs and seeps becoming headwaters rushing down like a bay horse bearing mail in its mochila back in the days before internet, air-mail, overnight delivery; mail from the States to this wild west—I check the website: it’s on its way, alive again, once a year in remembrance. With luck it’ll be here on Thursday.
high-desert rider
recalls her moonlit run like
an epiphany.
The Pony’s coming over Railroad Pass after days of Midwest cloudburst, Basin and Range, headed for impassive rise of Sierra, winter’s snowpack trickling into creeks; springs and seeps becoming headwaters rushing down like a bay horse bearing mail in its mochila back in the days before internet, air-mail, overnight delivery; mail from the States to this wild west—I check the website: it’s on its way, alive again, once a year in remembrance. With luck it’ll be here on Thursday.
high-desert rider
recalls her moonlit run like
an epiphany.
OFF HOPE MOUNTAIN
Pony Express 2022
Somewhere to the south
the SPOT device went offline—
big blank on the map
and a rider’s lost four hours.
Way out west I hope and wait.
Those old-time riders
lost without tracking device?
big blank on the map.
Past and present, horse with rider
galloping across desert miles,
racing to catch up on lost time
running with the wind.
Pony Express 2022
Somewhere to the south
the SPOT device went offline—
big blank on the map
and a rider’s lost four hours.
Way out west I hope and wait.
Those old-time riders
lost without tracking device?
big blank on the map.
Past and present, horse with rider
galloping across desert miles,
racing to catch up on lost time
running with the wind.
MUSTANG SPIRIT
for a Kiger Mustang mare
Very patient she waits
eased by her rider’s hand,
symbol of wind to run—
shadow swift as old time.
Every stretch of the trail,
land’s flying under hoof.
Old age goes creeping by
following the most fleet
year by year, just behind.
Old but steady she runs
under sun—it’s a timed
race she still loves to win.
Down over the crest to
evening’s fall she runs
sure as a heartbeat, still
in the night that swallows
road and trail, and peaks that
echo a last hoofbeat.
Today’s LittleNip:
FIGURATIVE FIGURES
—Taylor Graham
One wild turkey
hen with her one remaining poult
on the deck, drinking water from
a pie tin—no, one hen with four
poults on the lawn—there’s another
with just one, and
one on deck with
hen—or did the one come from hen
with four? Three hens, six or seven
babies moving too fast to count.
Overrun with turkeys, all wild,
make a poem.
_____________________
This week, the annual re-enactment of the Pony Express galloped across the country, and Taylor Graham recorded it in colorful poetry. Forms she used included the Manardina (“Poetry Open Mic + One Guitar” and “Figurative Figures”); a Haibun (“A Pony Named Hope”); a Hainka plus Ryūka (“Off Hope Mountain”); a Spirit Vessel, last week’s Triple-F Challenge (“Mustang Spirit”); and a Blank Verse Sonnet which was also last week’s Ekphrastic Challenge (“I Call It Vanilla Explosion”).
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
There’s also a newly dusted-off page at the top of Medusa’s Kitchen called, “FORMS! OMG!!!” which expresses some of my (take ‘em or leave 'em) opinions about the use of forms in poetry writing, as well as listing some more resources to help you navigate through Form Quicksand. Got any more resources to add to our list? Send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com for the benefit of all man/woman/poetkind!
Here are three responses to last week’s Ekphrastic Challenge:
Last week’s Ekphrastic Challenge
SMOOTH OPERATOR
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Ladies, don’t believe him,
don’t trust his sweet words.
They melt in his mouth,
but they’ll freeze your brain.
By the time you defrost your senses,
he’ll have stolen your heart
and your purse.
* * *
SCOOP
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
For some a scoop, (without a war,
not novel, Waugh, or headline prize),
then curl from block pressed firmly down,
against child’s wobble, less gull swoop;
for others whip, balletic swirl,
that twisting spiral into cone,
a substitution, style for meat,
the difference more than wafer thin.
In context, vast range, parlour games,
(though vendors rarely scene that way
in leisure, weekend, sundae treat)
with pastel shades, exotic names,
I wonder if a trick of light
has turned the lemon zest too white?
Unless the cream from dairy milk
is like herd field, green chocolate slip?
It could, perhaps be snow machine,
some pristine steel from ski slope lift,
a giant snowball, avalanche,
film dream beneath vanilla sky,
with Monet mood, impression shared;
one leg of lunar module’s three,
the moon not made of cheese but ice?
Or simply ice-cream for a treat?
* * *
NEWS SCOOPS
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
1619: 20 enslaved Africans seized
from a Portuguese slave ship
and brought to America
1863: Emancipation Proclamation
1865: 13th Amendment, freeing slaves
1873: “The South Will Rise Again”
21st Century: Critical Race Theory
* * *
Nolcha Fox came up with her own Ekphrastic Challenge, based on this Wyeth painting, which went with a poem by Joyce Odam last week:
Wash Day on the Maine Coast
—Painting by N.C. Wyeth, 1934
—Painting by N.C. Wyeth, 1934
DIRTY CLOTHES
—Nolcha Fox
If I lived on the Maine coast,
overlooking the ocean,
wash day would never come.
Instead of bending over,
washing dirty clothes,
I’d stand tall in my yard
and let the wind blow me away.
* * *
And here is a poem from Joe Nolan that is also based on one by Joyce Odam:
After Joyce Odam’s poem of 6/21/22, “Coins in Bright Distortion”
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
I walk past
Lovely fountains,
Into which
Bright coins
Were thrown.
Each coin, brightly shining,
Reflecting dreams-were-sewn,
With toss of hand
And generous abandon
Into hope,
That space between
Water, light and land,
When one wave of infinity
Has power to command
Any desired inflection
To the prophecy of man.
Bright coins,
Brightly shining,
Beneath a fountain's shower–
With power to bring to fruition
Whatever one might wish.
I walk past
Lovely fountains,
Into which
Bright coins
Were thrown.
Each coin, brightly shining,
Reflecting dreams-were-sewn,
With toss of hand
And generous abandon
Into hope,
That space between
Water, light and land,
When one wave of infinity
Has power to command
Any desired inflection
To the prophecy of man.
Bright coins,
Brightly shining,
Beneath a fountain's shower–
With power to bring to fruition
Whatever one might wish.
* * *
This poem from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) is a response to a previous challenge. He says, “One can read this literally, or as ‘coffee shop’ being a metaphor for ‘saloon’”:
This poem from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) is a response to a previous challenge. He says, “One can read this literally, or as ‘coffee shop’ being a metaphor for ‘saloon’”:
SMUG MUG
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Victim of sleepiness
Easy prey to nod off
Showing no regard for
Steering wheel position
Erratic moves bring on
Loss of control, what next?
Officer, I’ll explain
Found this great coffee shop
Yesterday and rather
Overdid it sipping
Until that one last drop
Remained at the bottom
Couldn’t resist, you know,
Oscar, at the counter
Forced me to finally
Finish my drink, pay and
Exit back to my car
Except, without coffee
* * *
And Carl sent a Joseph’s Star chain:
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
Victim of sleepiness
Easy prey to nod off
Showing no regard for
Steering wheel position
Erratic moves bring on
Loss of control, what next?
Officer, I’ll explain
Found this great coffee shop
Yesterday and rather
Overdid it sipping
Until that one last drop
Remained at the bottom
Couldn’t resist, you know,
Oscar, at the counter
Forced me to finally
Finish my drink, pay and
Exit back to my car
Except, without coffee
* * *
And Carl sent a Joseph’s Star chain:
JUST A DREAM
—Caschwa
If
I had the
Means, money, moxie
And connections, I would lock
Ted Cruz and Mike Pence in a
Cell together and
Record all
Talk
The
Focus would
Go past the arrows
Of public insults each one
Suffered from the lips of the
President of the
United
States
And
Center on
The mystery of
Why both of these fellows still
Lavish abundant praise on
Their chief insulter,
Kissing his
Ass
—Caschwa
If
I had the
Means, money, moxie
And connections, I would lock
Ted Cruz and Mike Pence in a
Cell together and
Record all
Talk
The
Focus would
Go past the arrows
Of public insults each one
Suffered from the lips of the
President of the
United
States
And
Center on
The mystery of
Why both of these fellows still
Lavish abundant praise on
Their chief insulter,
Kissing his
Ass
* * *
Here is a rhyming poem by Joe Nolan. Joe has his own rhyme schemes; I call this one a “Nolan”: aaxxbb ccxxdd:
IN UNIVERSE WE TRUST
—Joe Nolan
Death is no emergency.
It’s as normal as a breeze
Blowing through green-leafed trees
Or through brown leaves in Autumn,
Making them fall.
It happens to us all.
Why should we be alarmed
If nothing is harmed
By the passing of a human being?
Surely, life continues
All around us.
In Universe we trust.
____________________
Wise words, Joe—trust in the universe. 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 this week’s poetry form invented by Joe Nolan, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.)
•••The Nolan: aaxxbb ccxxdd
See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.
And don’t forget every Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Sanctuary”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Blank Verse Sonnet: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1051-blank-verse-sonnet
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Hainka: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/hainka-haiku-tanka-new-genre-of-poetic-form
•••Joseph’s Star: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/josephsstar.html
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
•••Nolan (devised by Joe Nolan): aaxxbb ccxxdd
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Spirit’s Vessel: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/spiritsvessel.html
____________________
—Medusa
—Joe Nolan
Death is no emergency.
It’s as normal as a breeze
Blowing through green-leafed trees
Or through brown leaves in Autumn,
Making them fall.
It happens to us all.
Why should we be alarmed
If nothing is harmed
By the passing of a human being?
Surely, life continues
All around us.
In Universe we trust.
____________________
Wise words, Joe—trust in the universe. 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 this week’s poetry form invented by Joe Nolan, and send it to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.)
•••The Nolan: aaxxbb ccxxdd
See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic one.
And don’t forget every Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Sanctuary”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Blank Verse Sonnet: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1051-blank-verse-sonnet
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Hainka: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/hainka-haiku-tanka-new-genre-of-poetic-form
•••Joseph’s Star: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/josephsstar.html
•••Manardina: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/manardina
•••Nolan (devised by Joe Nolan): aaxxbb ccxxdd
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Spirit’s Vessel: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/spiritsvessel.html
____________________
—Medusa
See what you can make of the above
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
***
—Public Domain Photo
Courtesy of Joe Nolan
For upcoming poetry events in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
in the links at the top of this page.
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.
