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Friday, October 28, 2022

Almost the Witching Hour ~

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



SPIRITS IN THE HOUSE

There was that rattle in an empty box,
a shadow passing soundless as on paws;
soft scraping out of sight—raven or fox?
Our house alive in darkness—what the cause?
I thought I left my shoes beside the bed,
but one had crept alone into the hall.
Where was the other? Moccasins instead
I’d have to wear. Whatever might befall
or fall apart, one takes as hazard’s chance.
That’s life, it grows and goes by hit or miss;
by missteps and by leaps. We call it Dance.
A brief moment. The tempo goes like this:
a puppy dashes after cat then falls asleep
against my foot, her breath so soft and deep. 
 
 
 

 

OLD CEMETERY BEFORE HALLOWEEN

Careful where you step, these paths are rough.
Bronze vase pokes up like a fist from a flat marker.
Ornate marble flowers & ferns, My Husband—
no name no date.
Headstone for Jessie aged 15 yrs, Jennie aged 6 mos.
Here lies a Sgt. (Inf.) Sp. Am. War.
Graves adorned with plastic blooms, synthetic angels.
It’s Living History day:
actors in period dress speaking for the dead:
Lady undertaker never married, but taught piano—
marriage would have taken time from her true loves;
the town’s first shoemaker, master of lasts—
he laments factory-made shoes (& artificial flowers?).
Headstones bloom with lichen rosettes.
Fake buds & broken concrete plug a critter hole.
Gravestones breathe water in and out, they say.
Pioneer blackberry clings to the path:
green shall overcome. 
 
 
 

 
 
WHAT TO BELIEVE

Bird with crown ablaze
in slant October light, bright!
Black against white bars
ladderback: what can it be?
and as suddenly it’s gone—

not in my field guide
but ancient as heraldry
to curious hopes. 
 
 
 
 


DOES IT HELP IN THE WOODS?

Pinpointing the Queen’s lying-in-state queue:  
… the UK Government used what3words
to display the ever-changing end point…
                    —what3words.com


Wind in lodgepole pine knows the words
for storm and calm, for black bear, mule deer,
chickadee and raven. Raven has his own
words for thunder, sunset, and one human
hunched under his daypack, running in circles
getting nowhere. What if that man doesn’t
know the 3words for a lightning-struck snag
he’s come back to, countless times?
What if his phone has no signal, to call
for help from a 3words tree? Overdue hiker—
they’re searching in and out of the Desolation—
lost for lack of those three little words. 
 
 
 

 
 
SIMPLY MORNING

Here’s another heap of kindling
lopped or broken from the oak that fell
without my hearing.
Bundle it up to haul up the hill
by trails not made by consulting
my magnetic Silva;
trails of deer, fox, skunk
who appear unexpectedly and are
as quickly gone.
Hike under chips and scolds,
jingle of bird-talk I can’t decipher,
morning-song without city noise. 
 
 
 

 
 
ALMOST HALLOWEEN

Skeleton along the trail—
a hound-dog with wagless tail?
live-oak clad in dead-tree mail?
spirit locked up tight as jail?
Speechless to recount its tale,
here it stops us, stiff and pale.
We could stand and try to guess
unless wind lets loose its wail. 
 
 
 
 


Today’s LittleNip:

OCTOBER’S HOCUS POCUS
—Taylor Graham

Live oak
skeleton shall
become cryptorium
for black-mask woodpecker’s stash of
acorns.

_________________________

Taylor Graham is very much in the spirit (pardon the pun) of Halloween, sending us poems and pix for the season. Thank you, TG; Halloween is such a colorful time of year, and also happens to be our current Tuesday Seed of the Week. Forms that TG has used for today’s poems include one of our Triple-F Challenges of last week, the Shakespearean Sonnet (“Spirits in the House”); a List Poem (“Old Cemetery Before Halloween”); a Boketto (“What to Believe”); a Word-Can Poem (“Simply Morning”); a Cinquain (“October's Hocus Pocus”); and a Cyrch A Chwta, another of our Triple-F Challenges (“Almost Halloween”).

This Saturday (tomorrow), Sac. Poetry Alliance presents Yuyutsu Sharma, Katy Brown and Allegra Silberstein plus open mic at 1169 Perkins Way, Sacramento, starting at 4pm. Katy has poems posted on Western Slope El Dorado (www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry) from recent events in Placerville; go to that site for news about poetic happenings in the foothills. Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!

A recent letter from Sacramento Poetry Center bears the following good tidings, even though their Monday Night Reading Series remains on hiatus while construction is done on their 25th & R Streets location. To wit:

•••
Tule Review, their annual journal, is coming back, the up-coming issue to be edited by Susan Kelly-DeWitt;
•••
Poetry Now, SPC’s newsletter, will resume in January;
•••a new quarterly chapbook series is in the works for this winter;
•••the annual Writer’s Conference will resume in the spring;
•••the annual fundraising party at Mimi Burnett’s home in Sacramento will take place this year on December 7.

For more information about all these, go to https://mailchi.mp/2819e6312a61/november8-14317678/. Guidelines for publication submissions will appear shortly—though Susan Kelly-DeWitt is taking submission for
Tule Review already, and the link has news about that.

And a final note that Colorado SnakePal JD Nelson posted on Facebook that he had a haiku posted on The Japan Society’s Haiku Corner (congratulations!), and in the process of looking it up, I discovered what a cool site that is! Check it out at https://www.japansociety.org.uk/?pg=haiku-corner#a/.

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
—Photo Courtesy of Katy Brown, Davis, CA


Here are responses to last week’s Ekphrastic Challenge from Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth:
 

A LITTLE LESS ENTHUSIASM, PLEASE
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

The grass has not yet brittled brown,
but here you are, so eager,
to float and flash
your bright red dress
when temperatures are warm.
I know you’re only warning
of snowy days to come,
but can you wait a few more weeks
so I can find the rake?

* * *

AMBER TURNS
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth,
Wrexham, Wales


What hex this mix in palette range,
as if wych hazel, broom to brush,
the magic of fall’s cycle fixed,
from Eden on, self-sacrifice.
Rejected through its tree-top sap,
that auxin cause of shedding tears,
like mother loosing hold on child,
or father prompting flight from nest.
But no surprise, in blushing leaf,
skeletal spine cut, starts to die,
its power to fuel some further fruit,
after the feast in compost tilth.
Pelt drive of rain, up-pointing blades,
maybe whiplash of wind, brush-burn,
with no defence from sinking drown,
down through the dark, that site of shades;
to underground where all transformed,
as even ash, bonfire consumed,
metamorphosis elements,
that it may serve, come dust to dust.
So sunset age will spring to birth,
rise from the mold to bud above;
that is the principle exists,
when amber turns towards the red.

* * *

Here is a Memoir poem from Stephen:
 
 
 
Kyle in the sea at Portrush, 
Co Antrim, Northern Ireland


KYLE
—Stephen Kingsnorth

We named her, my wife’s maiden name,
which startled father, when rebuked.
As puppy when the kids were young—
the toddler lifted by her head—
but she lived, sleeping under bed,
was deeply loved as loyal friend,
until cost medicine beyond reach.
I held her tight as reassured,
my whispered lies that all was well,
as vet performed what vets must do,
and children watched, so sad, subdued.
She slipped to sleep, a heavy weight;
I lowered her—we double wept,
for day of Princess Di’s cortège.

* * *

Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) has devised a new form which he is calling “Forbidden Desires”: 4 stanzas of 3 tercets; syllables for each tercet 7, 6, 8; rhymes xxa, xxa, xxa, xxa: 
 
 

 
 
HERE IS THE WORD
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

(in response to Taylor Graham’s
Tanka, “There’s A Word For It”,
Medusa’s Kitchen, 10/21/22)

the Terryton commercial
has you inhale these sounds:
over, under, around, and through

as if that very manner
of circulation will
filter out what is bad for you

like putting prisoners on
probation will extract
any elements that could cue

ripe and ready natural
instincts to break the law
over, under, around, and through

* * *

An Ars Poetica from Joe Nolan:



POETRY SHOULD BE…
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

Poetry should be luscious,
Deeply rich,
Sinful and fattening—
The worst thing you could imagine—
Just want you always wanted.

Poetry should be
Bitter and terse,
Harsh and worse—
A painful lesson
In every verse.

Poetry should be
A dying man’s scream,
Knowing his last breath is near—
A last-chance to say
What you really mean.

* * *

We shall close with a seasonal Villanelle which Stephen sent for Halloween. "He alone holds keys of lock…"
 
 

 
LACE       
—Stephen Kingsnorth

I see through lace, masks as they knock—          
that time of year for trick or treat,                       
but I alone hold keys of lock.                               

Though due, I’m rivetted with shock                    
that strangers expect me to greet—                        
I see through lace, masks as they knock.              

I dim the lights, think that might block                  
their view inside, intention, cheat,                         
but I alone hold keys of lock.                                 

I used to hold some bits in stock—                           
a pack of biscuits, chocolate, sweet;                       
I see through lace, masks as they knock                

But grandchildren my only flock,                            
though alien feet would step from street—               
but I alone hold keys of lock                                  

An hour, on watch, I count the clock,                      
but sure in shadows, eyes won’t meet;                     
I see through lace, masks as they knock,                 
but I alone hold keys of lock.     
                           
___________________

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 CHALLENGES!  

See what you can make of this week’s poetry forms, and send them to kathykieth@hotmail.com! (No deadline.)  How about a Spenserian Sonnet:

•••Sonnet, Spenserian: poetscollective.org/everysonnet/spenserian-sonnet

AND/OR try Carl Schwartz’s newly devised form:

•••Forbidden Desires: 4 stanzas of 3 tercets; syllables for each tercet 7, 6, 8; rhymes xxl, xxa, xxa, xxa

AND/OR tackle another Welsh form—and be careful of this one’s tricky formula with its internal rhymes:

•••Cywydd Llosgyrnog: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cywydd-llosgyrnog-poetic-form

•••See also the bottom of this post for another challenge, this one an Ekphrastic Photo.

•••And don’t forget each Tuesday’s Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Ghosts”. 


____________________

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

•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Boketto (“Listen to the Light”):
poeticbloomings2.wordpress.com2016/05/11/inform-poets-boketto
•••Cinquain: poets.org/glossary/cinquain AND/OR www.poewar.com/poetry-in-forms-series-cinquain./ See www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/adelaide-crapsey for info about its inventor, Adelaide Crapsey.
•••Cyrch a Chwta: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/cyrch-chwta-poetic-form
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry 
•••Forbidden Desires (Carl Schwarz): 4 stanzas of 3 tercets; syllables for each tercet 7, 6, 8; rhymes xxa, xxa, xxa, xxa
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Memoir: www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/memoir
•••Sonnet, Shakespearian: www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-a-shakespearean-sonnet-learn-about-shakespearean-sonnets-with-examples
•••Sonnet, Spenserian: poetscollective.org/everysonnet/spenserian-sonnet
•••Villanelle (rhymed; can be unrhymed): www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/poetic-forms-villanelle
•••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.


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.)

***

—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain

 
 
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
For upcoming poetry happenings 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
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