Wrinkles in the Earth

 

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham, 

Placerville, CA

—And then scroll down to

Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!

DON’T TRY THIS WHILE DRIVING

What’s that straight ahead? big, dark blue—a bus?
No, it’s a garbage truck, a mess of fuss.
Your eyesight’s not keen as it used to be,
so nothing’s actually what you see.
You’d better keep your focus straight ahead,
so you steer well clear of the trash truck’s tread.
Here’s a pattern to hold your head in check:
5 beat-iambs can save you from a wreck?
Could you persevere with rhyming 2-lines
like golden-olden poetry designs?
Couplet sonnet’s a 14-liner, right?
an awful big mouthful for a sound-bite.
So here’s to the trash truck that’s not a bus.
Just mind your driving, and conclude this thus.

 

 

 

 

WHAT SHE DRINKS

While her morning tea cools on the deck
she sips a serenade of red-winged blackbirds—
a coloratura of yellow warblers—
a nitpick of towhees invisible but for their chips—
a crown of lesser goldfinches
whistle-phrase of a perfect posture of robins—
jit-jit of a jitney of juncos—
a joke of scrub-jays—
a broadcast of high-flying buteos—
a nunnery of black phoebes—
a sanctuary of hermit thrushes—
& a constancy of titmice flitting in oaks.

 

 

 

 

 

TREE TALE   

Such a screaming high in the blue,
urgently aimed down, piercing through
the treetops.

Red-shouldered hawks, I recognize
that call, don’t need to search with eyes
for treeline.

Now look! barred-fan tails in flight
through our oaks, what an awesome sight!
Treehopper

hawks doing what breathtaking dance?
No camera. My one-shot chance—
stand treelike,

compose this poem in my brain
as hawks might build with wild refrain
nest-treehouse.

 

 

 

 

 

SNIPPETS OF MORNING (3)

In dream I climbed the summit by skateboard.
But trusty car & rusty
knees have to get me there.

Hours before dawn to focus, plan my day;
drive the road so long closed by
wildfire. I need to see….           

No expectations for this trip except
to see—backlit by recall
of used-to-be—what is.

 

 

 

 

 

UP THE CALDOR BURN-SCAR

5 white roadside crosses in black forest—
new logging decks piled house-high—
this is a boneyard of trees—
phacelia, coyote-mint, checkerbloom,
blue-eyed mary are coming back—
dark-eyed junco returns to summer home—
landscape with complexities laid bare—
skeleton logic—
larkspur, whiskerbrush, chipping sparrow—
chicory & yarrow—
summer’s leafless trees—
firs fire-branded sorrel: red-mane boughs
as if alive in sunlight—
without forest, I lose my landmarks—
speeding into a slow-down curve—
Look! this turnoff missed by fire—
lavish lupine, wallflower, western tanager—
between trees, panoramic view of a burnt land.

 

 

 

 

YOU ARE WHAT YOU DRINK

The well quit mid-summer. I could die
of thirst. Drove to middle-fork bridge;
invited the river to fill every pore.

Wilderness patrol. For lunch, dog
and I drank our snowmelt-fill.
Strip off boots & socks, let feet flow.

Now, fill half a gallon bottle before dawn
with water, empty it by bedtime.
On sweaty days, water goes down fast.

Don’t count extra guzzles. Let it flow.
River cutting wrinkles in earth,
flowing undammed toward the sea.

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

FOR THE FOURTH
—Taylor Graham

Did we wish fireworks for
Independence Day? Missiles, Glow Sticks,
Sparklers shooting for the heavens?
Instead we spend the day
Restfully at-alert lest a slightest spark
Erupt into wildfire.   

____________________

Our thanks to Taylor Graham today, who has written about the remnants of the Caldor fire and sent us photos that are both heart-breaking (cut logs) and positive (wildflowers returning). Here are the forms she used: a Rhymed Couplet Sonnet (“Don't Try This While Driving”); two List Poems (“What She Drinks” and “Up the Caldor Burn-Scar”); a Kimo chain (“Snippets of Morning 3”); an Acrostic (“For the Fourth”); and a Compound Word Verse, last week’s Triple-F Challenge (“Tree Tale”).

 

The city of Davis is sponsoring a poetry contest, to be judged by Davis Poet Laureate Julia Levine. Deadline is July 27 (not very far away!). Everyone over the age of 18 is eligible, though the poems are suppposed to be inspired by the farmlands of Yolo County. Click on UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for all the details. 

 

And don't forget that I messed up the deadline for Voices of Lincoln Poetry Contest—it's July 21, not June 21. So you still have time. Click on the UPCOMING link for details. 

Today is Sacramento Poetry Laureate Andre Defeye's birthday! Wish him a good one on Facebook. He'll be hosting a "Drunk Poetry" event this Sunday. Go to the—you guessed it—UPCOMING link for details.

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 challenges—  Whaddaya got to lose… ? If you send ‘em, I’ll post ‘em! (See Medusa’s Form Finder at the end of this post for resources and for links to poetry terms used in today’s post.)



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!

 

 

 

Last Week’s Ekphrastic Challenge

 

 
About the Ekphrastic Challenge last week, Nolcha Fox writes: “My ex-husband collected T-shirts from every town he stopped in during his travels. When my brother asked him if he could remember all those places, my ex said no. He had over 300 T-shirts.” Here is her poem about collecting, as well as responses from Stephen Kingsnorth and Caschwa (Carl Schwartz), also based on the Challenge:


PHOTOS    

should preserve
the times we thought
important,
but like too many
T-shirts
from every town
I drove through,
they pile up
and merely
take up space.

—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

* * *

RE-CREATION
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Laid bare on slats, distressed affair,
a retro album, camera;
is PR plank, subliminal,
the ground hint scheme of Ukraine flag—
I see net used on Russian web?

I’m not on board, that stolen grain,
patina short cut, wear years cheat,
as though we’re timelords by deceit,
so folk can buy their history,
those good old days in favour now.

The snaps feature fake fantasy,
balloons, invented bubble speech,
and blossom bouquets, faded now;
resent where facts retuned to suit—
yet seek this furniture of lies.

Do as I say, not what I do—
at least ponder hypocrisy.
But sales are good, best tack in wind,
and colours pinned, nailed to the mast;
But what’s meant, recreate the past?

* * *

TAKING NOTES
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

we all know that flowers are
not just yielding to the wind,
they are bending over backwards
to size up one another

like players in a card game
showing their hands, if only for
a short window of time before
plotting their next move

and of course there are cameras
doing little more than watching
other cameras, capturing the image
of that brief moment when they were
sleeping on the job, never forgetting

* * *

This is Carl’s response to last week’s Triple-F Challenge:

 

 

 

 

 

PAIN UNDERSCORED  
—Caschwa

some cattails in my socks again
sending great pain into my shin
underneath

the last place you want a sharp point
is just where it tries to anoint
underwear

one’s face will turn all shades of blue
composing explanations to
understand

why is this such a lofty task
that’s even improper to ask
underlings?

maybe I need a cat’s sure tongue
to reach around, in, and among
undergrowth

* * *

Carl has devised a new form, which he calls an “Acronymity”: 3-line stanzas, each line starting with the same three letters: 123, 123, 123 etc.


ACTIVE SHOOTER DRILLS
—Caschwa

Amendment
Sans
Discipline

Absent
Senate
Decisions

Anger
Superimposing
Disaster

Another
Stupefied
Death

Active
Shooter
Drills

* * *

These last four are just-for-fun-sort-of-ars-poeticae, thanks to Stephen Kingsnorth and Nolcha Fox, starting with Stephen’s “Iamb, What I Drink”—which actually comes from a recent Seed of the Week: You Are What You Drink. (Photos Courtesy of Public Domain) Do you know what Adam’s ale is?

 

 

 

 

IAMB, WHAT I DRINK
—Stephen Kingsnorth

We have to start with Adam’s ale,
though even Eve is full of it,
awash, the fluid makes us whole—
why weighed by mass, not liquid pints?
Osmotic taproom, flushed with brine,
flesh finds its level, cellular.

I should have energy to spare,
that fizz of tonic, bubble air,
with hint of lime, for citrus bite,
implies a sharp intake of zest;
has she left loose the bottle cap,
that I’m left flat, that plastic tap?

Perhaps root beer should fill my mug—
first tasted in Kentucky hills—
but rarely sold in shops of Wales.
I celebrate my good old days,
not that then world a better place,
but in my nurture, soil was grace.

Chai-wallahs yelling through the night,
as student dozing, bunk by goat;
through train Delhi, Allahabad,
where life was learned by culture shock,
glass lassi, human kindness, milk,
though poorest on the earth, delight.

Red wine through claret, varies plonk,
the punch, not in the boxing sense,
but more in bowl for ladle sup,
a port to dock, to finish up,
not stirrup cup, but table top,
in altar call for fellowship.

And every day a bottled beer—
it’s Spitfire brand to stir the words;
a flight of fancy, loop the loop,
for verse, odes, stanzas, poetry,
the brew of rhythm, beat distilled,
this dance, a measure, I am feet.

 

 

 

 

SILENT TREATMENT   
—Nolcha Fox

Silence is stalking
the run in my stocking,
my fashion is shocking,
they all turn away.

 

 

 

 

COORDINATED   
—Nolcha Fox

I curtsy,
a cow on crutches,
crashing the conspiracy
of cults,
chewing cures
and contracts
into cud.

 

 

 

MURDER FOR HIRE   
—Nolcha Fox

I hired free verse
to kill every poetic form
within a stanza's radius.

The judge didn't care
I was strangled by rules.
He sentenced me to
death by sonnet.

____________________

Death by Sonnet: could there be anything more cruel? 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!

____________________

TRIPLE-F CHALLENGE!

See what you can make of this week’s poetry forms, and send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.) Taylor Graham sent us what she calls a Rhymed Couplet Sonnet; Poets Collective calls this a Double-Trouble Sonnet, except that they rhyme the beginning AND the end of the lines. Try some rhymed couplets in iambic pentameter or iambic tetrameter; 14 lines (7 couplets) would make a Sonnet. (See Medusa’s Form Finder below for references to these meters.)

•••Double-Trouble Sonnet: poetscollective.org/everysonnet/double-trouble-sonnet

Or, heck, have a fling at Carl’s Acronymity:

•••Acronymity (dev. by Carl Schwartz):  3-line stanzas, each line starting with the same three letters: 123, 123, 123 etc.
 
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 “Forever”.

____________________

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

•••Acrostic: literarydevices.net/acrostic
•••Acronymity (dev. by Carl Schwartz):  3-line stanzas, each line starting with the same three letters: 123, 123, 123 etc.
•••Compound Word Verse: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/compound.html
•••Double-Trouble Sonnet: poetscollective.org/everysonnet/double-trouble-sonnet
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Kimo: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/kimo-poetic-form AND/OR poetscollective.org/poetryforms/kimo
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Sonnet Forms: blog.prepscholar.com/what-is-a-sonnet-poem-form AND/OR poetscollective.org/everysonnet


For more about meter, see:
•••www.studiobinder.com/blog/what-is-iambic-pentameter-definition-literature  
•••www.pandorapost.com/2021/05/examples-of-iambic-pentameter-tetrameter-and-trimeter-in-poetry.html  
•••nosweatshakespeare.com/sonnets/iambic-pentameter
•••www.thoughtco.com/introducing-iambic-pentameter-2985082
•••www.nfi.edu/iambic-pentameter

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 

 Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
 
See what you can make of the above


photo, and send your poetic results to 


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

 

***

 

—Public Domain Photo 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

Love-a-Duck