—Poetry by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down to
Form Fiddlers’ Friday for poetry by
Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth
ODE TO A THERMOS
Almost as old as our marriage,
well-traveled and stainless, steady
companion on adventures:
. . . stuck in a snowbank, bivouac
with coyote chorus under the summit
. . . dead-winter stormy drive
to a snow-god mountain—
. . . thermos sitting staunch
at base camp to warm the insides
of searchers, though too late
to save the man we were looking for—
our hands cupped for comfort
around coffee’s metal cup,
steam rising in silent, freezing air.
Almost as old as our marriage,
well-traveled and stainless, steady
companion on adventures:
. . . stuck in a snowbank, bivouac
with coyote chorus under the summit
. . . dead-winter stormy drive
to a snow-god mountain—
. . . thermos sitting staunch
at base camp to warm the insides
of searchers, though too late
to save the man we were looking for—
our hands cupped for comfort
around coffee’s metal cup,
steam rising in silent, freezing air.
GETTING THRU IT
Spring grasses & forbs—
fiddleneck, lupine, wild oats, clover,
thistle, ripgut brome, & bluedicks,
nameless weeds for mowing
where I’ve mowed already, growing
taller, denser, stronger
faster than my dog sheds hair
faster than dust & clutter in the house,
green inspired by another fall of rain.
I’m whacking trail
like squeezing thru a hoarder’s hall—
my morning penance,
exercise & meditation (joy?).
Spring grasses & forbs—
fiddleneck, lupine, wild oats, clover,
thistle, ripgut brome, & bluedicks,
nameless weeds for mowing
where I’ve mowed already, growing
taller, denser, stronger
faster than my dog sheds hair
faster than dust & clutter in the house,
green inspired by another fall of rain.
I’m whacking trail
like squeezing thru a hoarder’s hall—
my morning penance,
exercise & meditation (joy?).
INFURIATING
Pull yourself upright, get moving!
Walk as if you have places to go and things to do,
like you aren’t just loitering
through the time of your life.
Pull yourself upright, get moving!
Walk as if you have places to go and things to do,
like you aren’t just loitering
through the time of your life.
SPRING CLEANING
Look at all these expired medications
reminding of infirmities we survive
until we don’t. Dispose of properly. Now
it gets harder. Get rid of everything
that doesn’t call your name,
and even some things that do,
in a harsher tongue, incriminating
or at least guilt-ridden. Now step out
the door. Resist temptation
to light a match behind you. Fire
is a fanatic charwoman.
Look at all these expired medications
reminding of infirmities we survive
until we don’t. Dispose of properly. Now
it gets harder. Get rid of everything
that doesn’t call your name,
and even some things that do,
in a harsher tongue, incriminating
or at least guilt-ridden. Now step out
the door. Resist temptation
to light a match behind you. Fire
is a fanatic charwoman.
ALONG THE CITY TRAIL
Here’s more litter, and
wet dogprints on dry pavement—
dog has found the creek.
RIVER CLEANUP
Where last fall
I hauled my bucket
ridding creek
& bramble
of so much unhoused litter
so the creek ran clean,
I picked cig-
butts out of mud, left
stuff the home-
less would need—
unopened cans of spam &
beans where I found them.
Now it’s May—
Winter floods have come
& gone. Spring’s
been cleaning
house, the creek running clear, &
fireweed’s in bloom.
Where last fall
I hauled my bucket
ridding creek
& bramble
of so much unhoused litter
so the creek ran clean,
I picked cig-
butts out of mud, left
stuff the home-
less would need—
unopened cans of spam &
beans where I found them.
Now it’s May—
Winter floods have come
& gone. Spring’s
been cleaning
house, the creek running clear, &
fireweed’s in bloom.
Today’s LittleNip:
GO OR STOP? PARKING LOT
GO OR STOP? PARKING LOT
—Taylor Graham
After the pavement-shoulder climb
I reached no vista point sublime
but just an instrument to measure time—
its glass fogged, smudged with grime—
I couldn’t read nor make it rhyme
with daylight, It had no cuckoo chime.
But there it was—red, green, & prime
to monitor a curb deep-green as lime,
perhaps a parking carpe diem mime.
_____________________
Our thanks to Taylor Graham for today’s poems and pix, many of these in response to our Tuesday Seed of the Week, Spring Cleaning. A reminder that Placerville’s third Monday read-around, Poetry in Motion, takes place this coming Monday in the Placerville Sr. Center. For more about what’s going on in poetry in El Dorado County, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Also click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) for details about this 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.
Forms TG has sent us today include a Subject Obscura (“Ode to a Thermos”); a Ryūka (“Infuriating”); a Shadorma (“River Cleanup”); a Haiku (“Along the City Trail”); a List Poem (“Getting Thru It”); and a Monorhyme (“Go or Stop? Parking Lot”). The Subject Obscura is a form I made up: to write about a subject that’s rarely tackled in poetry. And the Monorhyme is in response to Stephen Kingsnorth’s poem last week, in which all lines ended in rhyme (I couldn’t remember the name of the form).
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
After the pavement-shoulder climb
I reached no vista point sublime
but just an instrument to measure time—
its glass fogged, smudged with grime—
I couldn’t read nor make it rhyme
with daylight, It had no cuckoo chime.
But there it was—red, green, & prime
to monitor a curb deep-green as lime,
perhaps a parking carpe diem mime.
_____________________
Our thanks to Taylor Graham for today’s poems and pix, many of these in response to our Tuesday Seed of the Week, Spring Cleaning. A reminder that Placerville’s third Monday read-around, Poetry in Motion, takes place this coming Monday in the Placerville Sr. Center. For more about what’s going on in poetry in El Dorado County, go to Western Slope El Dorado poetry on Facebook: www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/. Also click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) for details about this 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.
Forms TG has sent us today include a Subject Obscura (“Ode to a Thermos”); a Ryūka (“Infuriating”); a Shadorma (“River Cleanup”); a Haiku (“Along the City Trail”); a List Poem (“Getting Thru It”); and a Monorhyme (“Go or Stop? Parking Lot”). The Subject Obscura is a form I made up: to write about a subject that’s rarely tackled in poetry. And the Monorhyme is in response to Stephen Kingsnorth’s poem last week, in which all lines ended in rhyme (I couldn’t remember the name of the form).
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
There’s also a 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 Photo
We had responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo from Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth. About her Crabby poem, Nolcha writes that it’s about “…the crab apple tree in our front yard. She's probably a century old. This poem is dedicated to her...”:
CRABBY
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Every spring she drops apples.
She knows they taste nasty.
She’s ancient and crabby.
She laughs at the mess
that they make
* * *
FRAME, NOT FRAMED
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
This flight appeal from upper left—
to raise the water in such splash
the moment fruit has hit the drink—
which must be cider here I think—
quick flick, re verse, could be unsplash?
Why does the apple float about
when boat is not the craft required
or bobbing, unhygienic flail,
with arms, pale face, meniscus pail,
where lore claims store of evil mired?
It’s tempting when a picture prompts,
sows seeds of thought, symbolic lines—
global appeal like Granny Smith—
with fairy tales, religious myth,
ignore the awe, but search for signs.
But see how water rises, falls,
freezeframe before journey complete,
a sight our eyes cannot compute;
that Newton’s head, acute, astute,
found core force, gravity, concrete.
* * *
And here is an Ars Poetica from Stephen about the commonwealth we share and write about:
COMMONWEALTH
—Stephen Kingnorth
What is a commonwealth we share,
as real or fiction, dreamed or dared?
Our mothers, best or worn and lost—
breast comfort before time began,
a hunger for what might have been,
the dandles, cuddles, crawling, steps,
a warm embrace, knee scrapes, tears streaked,
cold addled mind when compass slept?
The childhood play of make believe,
creating worlds of magic scenes
where power was ours, for in our minds,
imagination loosed, unbound,
up tree, dank corner, books or wand.
New models in our partnerships,
while bigots buy no entry signs,
set cul-de-sacs and wind-up paths,
with baggage carried, prejudice,
yet pride, companionship brought through,
though struggles ever in our blood.
For children, offspring from our stock,
investment in family tree,
when two were one and then found three,
if elders, like me, life past death.
As older, health and strength declined,
that heady mix of memories,
some traumas curtailed from our store,
and pleasures known as lessons learned.
Those observations, noticed, heard
of nature’s pearls or wisdom shared;
the focussed moments, honours earned,
first loves and breaks, betrayed, deceived,
confusions plied, identities,
one stream through pauses, passage rites.
And faith in self, in others, trust
in deities or human care;
these are the links we dare describe.
____________________
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!
—Stephen Kingnorth
What is a commonwealth we share,
as real or fiction, dreamed or dared?
Our mothers, best or worn and lost—
breast comfort before time began,
a hunger for what might have been,
the dandles, cuddles, crawling, steps,
a warm embrace, knee scrapes, tears streaked,
cold addled mind when compass slept?
The childhood play of make believe,
creating worlds of magic scenes
where power was ours, for in our minds,
imagination loosed, unbound,
up tree, dank corner, books or wand.
New models in our partnerships,
while bigots buy no entry signs,
set cul-de-sacs and wind-up paths,
with baggage carried, prejudice,
yet pride, companionship brought through,
though struggles ever in our blood.
For children, offspring from our stock,
investment in family tree,
when two were one and then found three,
if elders, like me, life past death.
As older, health and strength declined,
that heady mix of memories,
some traumas curtailed from our store,
and pleasures known as lessons learned.
Those observations, noticed, heard
of nature’s pearls or wisdom shared;
the focussed moments, honours earned,
first loves and breaks, betrayed, deceived,
confusions plied, identities,
one stream through pauses, passage rites.
And faith in self, in others, trust
in deities or human care;
these are the links we dare describe.
____________________
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!
•••Decima: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/decima-poetic-forms
•••AND/OR how about some Diminishing Verse:
•••Diminishing Verse: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/diminishing-verse-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 “Under Her Wing”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Decima: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/decima-poetic-forms
•••Diminishing Verse: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/diminishing-verse-poetic-form
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haiku: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Monorhyme: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/monorhyme.html?
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Shadorma: www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/poets/shadorma-a-highly-addictive-poetic-form-from-spain
•••Subject Obscura: writing a poem on a subject that is rarely explored in poetry
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
Make what you can of today's
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Illustration 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.
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.
