Castaways

 

—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,

Placerville, CA

—And then scroll down for

Form Fiddlers’ Friday!!

 

 

 

SNOWBOUND WITH DOGS & SPIDER

I woke again to frosted windows
and icy steps—midwinter night as clear
and starry as cold can be,
moon reflecting off snowdrifts
from the storm. Snowbound. No trips
to town—don’t get a hankering
for peppermint; and
we’re down to our last three eggs.
But what’s snowbound
to our Shepherds, rolling kick-legged
in powder-white
making snow-dog angels?
And in a high corner of the house,
spider goes on with her life,
silk web sparkling by lantern light.

 

 

 

 


CASTAWAYS
         New Year flood 2023

In storm our little creek became a lake.
And what a dreadful downpour must it take
to transform utter drought to muddy brown
that laughs at every shovel, hoe, and rake.
 
It was no gentle rain, it battered down
to rive our creeklet’s rocky banks and drown
our fence and ranch-gate, then uproot an oak
so tall, it was our greening pasture’s crown.

It swept away my sandbags, and it broke
a bridge, delivered from the upstream folk
a ladder. Raging waters rearrange
this little canyon’s landscape stroke by stroke.
 
What have we humans done, this climate change
that turns our foothills weather fierce and strange?
What lasting mischief can man’s progress make?
Just look—the flood goes riding on our range.

 

 

 

 

SEE WHAT WE CAN SEE

The storm left
lakes that had been dry ground and
oddments of trees hitched to
extension ladders
floated down-creek.
Wonderments.

 

 

 

 

WATER BIRD

A neighbor’s decoy,
lovely crafted blue-winged teal—
creek-flood set her free.

I found her beached here,
not stranded; perched on a rise….
creek-flood set her free
again, to follow water
as it will, flowing away.

 

 

 

 

LEARNED ITS NAME

Blewit
like cocoa pie,
fungus cozy as kin
newly erupted in
leaf-fall. And I
knew it!

 

 

 

 

CRITICAL

She questioned my
seven-line poem. Which
poem? I can’t recall, nor let it lie.
Now it’s an itch:
I need to write a verse,
stanza seven lines—for better? for worse?
Don’t ask me why.
 
And now a bird
greets morning sweet and bright
with seven-fold chittering—not a word
but praising light.
He shames me with his song
that through my moments carries me along,
this song he’s stirred.

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

STRANDED
—Taylor Graham

So far from ocean
half a white seashell washed down
foothills creek in flood—
how many mountain eons
till it finds its way back home

___________________

Our thanks to Taylor Graham for this morning’s flood of poetry and photos around our recent Seed of the Week, Stranded. She has also found many shapes and sizes of mushrooms in the woods, and has sent us wonderful photos of them. 

 

Forms TG has used this week include the Word-Can Poem (“Snowbound with Dogs & Spider”); the Rubaiyat (“Castaways”); a Seox (“See What We Can See”); a Hainka (“Water Bird”); a Tanka (“Stranded”); a Scallop (“Learned Its Name”); and a Septanelle Doubled (“Critical”). The Scallop and the Septanelle were both Triple-F Challenges last week. 

Another Wakamatsu Farm workshop took place last Sunday; for more info and photos about Wakamatsu workshops (past and future) and other El Dorado County poetry events, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Or visit El Dorado County Poet Laureate Lara Gularte’s Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/382234029968077/. The next workshop will be March 12. Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!

Speaking of which, Dave Boles will read at Poetry of the Sierra Foothills this Sunday at Chateau Davell in Camino. Click UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS at the top of this column for details about these and other future poetry events in the NorCal area—and keep an eye on this link and on the Kitchen for happenings that might pop up during the week.

And don’t miss Tim Kahl’s online reading tonight for El Gigante to celebrate the release of his new book, California Sijo. What’s a Sijo? Check out https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/sijo-poetic-form/.

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

 


SUM GREY
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Though sun must reach, brief time, some grey
too private for public display
high rise above paved slabs, packed block
as if down here forgotten clock.
But who cares dingy living grot
no heat to lift the smell of rot
no pause, except illicit trade
no shaking hands but palm glint blade?

What grim grime plasters passageway
and did fools stray too late, fall prey
small slice of sky crowns cut of walls
no space to daub graffiti scrawls?
The only gutter gravity
fed drips, stream splashes, louse and flea
yet sun must shine half hour some days
when clouds enable filtered rays.

* * *

This Ekphrastic response from Carl is also a Scallop:

 

 

 

 

WHAT A DRIVE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

one lane
open highway
no other traffic, none
car sales ads, every one
buy one today
insane

* * *

This poem from Claire Baker is also an Ekphrastic one, based on this week’s alley photo, but hers is in the form of a Sliding Fiver:


AN OLD WORLD PHOTO
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA

A narrow alley
in Sicily or Rome
keeps secrets secret.
Walls as tilted cots,
couples conceived here

unmarried, joyful.
A narrow alley
chiaroscuro
in the changing light.
Rain puddles slow-dry.

Laundry spans the gap—
Levis, Yankee cap.
A narrow alley
lures its criminals,
childhood play. And tears,

moisten windowsills.
Cobblestones wear down,
graffitti’s blackened.
A narrow alley,
wounded soldiers died,

nondescript tunnel,
open, one end bright.
lure for an escape—
as fantasy paints
a narrow alley.

* * *

Nolcha Fox has been fiddling with forms that are not only Ekphrastic but also Pantoums; here are two such poems. (Speaking of Pantoums, we’ll be posting one plus other works from Claire Baker in the Kitchen tomorrow.)

 

 

 

 

CLAUSTROPHOBIA
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

I should have stayed home,
I shouldn’t have traveled
to somewhere unknown
with walls caving in.

I shouldn’t have traveled.
Darkness engulfs me
with walls caving in.
My screams are unheard.

Darkness engulfs me,
the world closes in.
My screams are unheard.
I should have stayed home.

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of 

Nolcha Fox

 

 

SOMEWHERE
—Nolcha Fox

There has to be somewhere better than here.
I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know it’s not right.
It’s grounds in my coffee, sand in my shoe.
It’s ice under snow, an itch I can’t reach.

I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know it’s not right.
I wish I could picture the perfect I want.
It’s ice under snow, an itch I can’t reach.
I can’t find my ticket to paradise lost.

I wish I could picture the perfect I want.
My glasses are fractured, I grope in the dark.
I can’t find my ticket to paradise lost.
There has to be somewhere better than here.

* * *

Nolcha comments that somewhere she read about “a form where the last line of a stanza becomes the first line of the following stanza. This poem started off life as a Pantoum, but I wasn't happy with it, so I changed it to the nameless form”:

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of 

Nolcha Fox

 

DIZZY
—Nolcha Fox

Ballerina, whirling dervish,
twirling in a pink tutu
through every room,
through rain and sun.

through rain and sun,
sequins scatter, sparkly trail
to find her spinning with the squirrels.
Dizzy dancing, swooshing, swirling.

Dizzy dancing, swooshing, swirling.
Tiny dancer, nothing stops her
‘til she falls, or ice cream
tosses off her shoes.

* * *

And Nolcha has been playing with rhymes; this rhyme scheme brings to mind some kind of Welsh form:

 

 

 

 —Public Domain Photo Courtesy of 

Nolcha Fox

 

 

My pelvis wants to be Elvis

on The Ed Sullivan Show, you know,
I want to be that cutie who shakes her booty
while Elvis bumps and grinds. Who minds
gyrating hips and snarling lips?
The truth be said, my darling Ed,
the rest of me wants to be

in bed.

—Nolcha Fox

* * *

Carl took the Word-Can Poem form and turned it into a “Sentence-Can” Poem. This one is also based on Medusa's previous Tuesday Seed of the Week, Stranded:

 

 

 

 

  

STRANDED IN ORBIT
—Caschwa

(A little knowledge is a
dangerous thing.  —Alexander Pope)

A novel hypothesis need not be true,
or even probable, as long as it presents
a calculus consistent with the observations.

This approach is designed to reach the
audience of those who will conveniently
fail to consider the fact that a greater
number of rumors are found to be untrue
than are proven to be true.

Once one fully believes that a little knowledge
is a dangerous thing, the prospect of an
epiphany is utterly mind blowing.

What if we had regarded the novel theory
of Heliocentrism, embraced by Nicolaus
Copernicus, as just nagging rumors, some
little bit of knowledge, deduced from abundant
observations?

* * *

Here is a Septanelle from Carl:

 

 

 

 

VISIBLE
—Caschwa

there are seven
seas which I won’t name here
because my mind has skipped to eleven
colds cans of beer
visible down the hall
if I can get that far and just not fall
down from Heaven

* * *

And an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth (“Show me the script not personal—“):

 

 

 

 

SPIT
—Stephen Kingsnorth

Why is so much verse intimate,
the couch stretched into straggle lines,
own consciousness free streaming leaked
as if the pulse to be escaped?

At rest, as after exercise,
my inspiration regular;
are fits and stops some macho sign,
the poet’s proof maturity?

Show me the script not personal—
even the robot programmed once—
but when I hear a parable
I need to take it at its words.

If worth, enjoy revealing dig—
to tantalize is poet’s craft—
the trench, a spit, sufficient depth
or is the treasure lower still?

Economy of words—not prose—
is discipline, the root to learn;
strait-jacket told—I must be free—
but published verse is not for me.

So let me breathe and stanza air,
uncover veins that others mine,
study the terms on anvil smithed,
discover what blank globe has taught.

We hope our cares by others matched,
that they too found in company,
their feelings spoken through our words
expressed, delivered touching points.

___________________

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.) Let’s go back to the lovely Pantoum; if it’s worth doing once, heck—give it another shot:

•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html AND/OR https://poets.org/glossary/pantoum

AND/OR, like Claire, a Sliding Fiver:

•••Sliding Fiver (Martha Bosworth): Five five-line stanzas; each line has five syllables. First line slides down one line in each stanza, to become the poem’s last line:

AND/OR, like Taylor Graham, another Hainka:

•••Hainka: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/hainka-haiku-tanka-new-genre-of-poetic-form

AND/OR in response to Tim Kahl’s new book, a Sijo:

•••Sijo: www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/sijo-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 “Aggravation”. 


____________________

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

•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry   
•••Hainka: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/hainka-haiku-tanka-new-genre-of-poetic-form
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html AND/OR https://poets.org/glossary/pantoum
•••Rubáiyát: www.baymoon.com/~ariadne/form/rubaiyat.htm
•••Scallop: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanell
•••Seox: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Septanelle: www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/1882-syllabic-forms-found-in-pathways-for-the-poet/#veltanelle
•••Sijo: www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/sijo-poetic-form
•••Sliding Fiver: 5 stanzas, 5 lines, 5 syllables per line. First line slides down a line 5 times, to become the last line. (Martha Bosworth, via Claire J. Baker)
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••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
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.