—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday with poetry by
Joe Nolan, Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday with poetry by
Joe Nolan, Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Claire J. Baker, and Caschwa
THE GREEN WITCH
New territory for walking! unincorporated land,
though it’s on the fringe of industrial park.
Sunday morning early. I figure no one will notice
my dog and me walking a torn-up parcel
that used to be—well, just look off beyond; that’s
what this used to be, flourishing community
of chaparral dense with liveoak green and manzanita
jade, toyon reddening its berries, redbud in gay
autumn colors. Now check where we’re walking,
radically disturbed soil, uneven footing,
only the hardiest pioneer plants survive. We drop
back down to pavement, around a concrete
enterprise. Behind is a steep cutbank, military
crest for native brush. And a witch
left over from Halloween, green-faced
with what might be a snarl, or an ironic chuckle,
as she looks down on the backside of industry.
New territory for walking! unincorporated land,
though it’s on the fringe of industrial park.
Sunday morning early. I figure no one will notice
my dog and me walking a torn-up parcel
that used to be—well, just look off beyond; that’s
what this used to be, flourishing community
of chaparral dense with liveoak green and manzanita
jade, toyon reddening its berries, redbud in gay
autumn colors. Now check where we’re walking,
radically disturbed soil, uneven footing,
only the hardiest pioneer plants survive. We drop
back down to pavement, around a concrete
enterprise. Behind is a steep cutbank, military
crest for native brush. And a witch
left over from Halloween, green-faced
with what might be a snarl, or an ironic chuckle,
as she looks down on the backside of industry.
I’m going to the pond
behind the public park. I’ll walk, not knowing
names of Miwok women who cratered slabs
of granite, mortars for stone pestles grinding
acorns into meal. This is a mast year,
I could slip on fallen acorns lying like ball-
bearings littering the grass. I could lose
my bearings in fall-barren blackberry
tangles before I find the pond, its water
wimpled by six white swans or maybe
two black ones. So many unknowables,
even while I’ll stand at pond’s edge
wondering what’s to become of
this place, when survey stakes
in the meadow grow into
paved streets, sidewalks
and houses.
DISPLACED
The Weeping Pine weeps
for its homeland far away.
There’s no going back
to those moist native highlands,
its ancestral seed and soil.
ENLIGHTENMENT
Who milled
trees into planks
for the rough woodland trail
through these unruly-growing trunks
laughing?
CORVID COMMENTARY
At trail’s beginning Raven flew across
croaking his commentary on the state
of humankind. I’d just come from a wait-
ing room of business, 90-minute loss
of walking time and patience. Oh just toss
all that aside, I’m in the dark of woods
far from humanity’s ifs, can’ts, and shoulds.
Ivy’s green, maple’s falling leaves, old sun-
gold slanting down—my walk has just begun!
CRV 4 MEDUSA
The Gorgon who turns men to stone now craves
colorful photos to set off snake-gray?
I walk the woods these days, my pix are drab,
green giving way to dead leaves underfoot.
But look here by the trail, bright amethyst,
and here another, ruby. Amber, gold, sapphire,
emerald, silver—cylindrical gems
which I can smash flat with my foot and stash
in produce bags, add them to my wander-
plunder to redeem for bright copper coins.
But first, a kaleidoscopic photo
scintillating coruscating in fall
sun for the Gorgon to turn into stone.
Today’s LittleNip:
MIGRATING
inspired by Sugar Skull altar, Switchboard Gallery
Skeletons dead in desert
trying to cross border—
butterfly fans their still ribs.
___________________
Another Friday brings more wonderful Taylor Graham poetry and photos, and our thanks for that! Her Day of the Dead photos were taken at the November 2 celebration in Placerville.
Forms TG has used this week include some Blank Verse (“CRV 4 Medusa”); a Tanka {“Displaced”); a Cinquain that is also a response to last week’s Ekphrastic photo (“Enlightenment”); an American 767 (“Migrating”); and an Analogue (“Corvid Commentary”). The Analogue and the American 767 were last week’s Triple-F Challenges.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, Poetic License read-around takes place Monday morning at the Placerville Sr. Center, and there will be an El Dorado County Library Workshop in Cameron Park next Thursday, starting at 5:30pm. For details about these events, and news about El Dorado County poetry, past (photos!) and future, see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/.
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
In El Dorado County poetry this week, Poetic License read-around takes place Monday morning at the Placerville Sr. Center, and there will be an El Dorado County Library Workshop in Cameron Park next Thursday, starting at 5:30pm. For details about these events, and news about El Dorado County poetry, past (photos!) and future, see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry/.
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 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
In addition to Taylor Graham’s Cinquain [above], we received responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo from Joe Nolan, Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Claire Baker:
A NON-EVENT
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Showing up
To a non-event,
Filter in.
Take your seat.
Attend with
Due attention.
Wait for your time
To leave.
Conversation
At the doorway,
Walk to the parking lot.
Head back home,
Thankful you’re not alone,
In how your time is spent.
* * *
BROKEN
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Tree limbs broken skeletons
littering the ground,
reaching out to trip us up
and add our shattered broken bones
to growing piles of firewood
that battle winter’s cold.
* * *
‘PATH TO ENLIGHTENMENT’—
LOST IN TRANSLATION
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
A promissory note by name,
exotic path, enlightenment,
as if ahead, epiphany,
a revelation, wooded glade.
Yet what approach, boundary string,
eyed metal stakes, hem hammered in,
a Hansel Gretel type of guide,
one up from breadcrumbs as a trail.
Without the grandeur, guidebook gloss—
just entrance fee plus parking lot—
is this the cost for photo shot,
to walk the path of noble truths?
Who knows if Bodhi type of leaf
amongst the timber growth displayed;
what e’er befall, a state, reserved,
day tourists seeking inner light?
But is it thus, those inward trip
hazards waiting, awakening?
The Tree, unseen for all the wood,
so is there secret, knoll or tump,
as when we’re stumped, fresh growth can sprout,
or clump of saplings burst from earth?
Maybe our labour, insight aimed,
is better focussed, arbour trained?
Yes, there are steps, and pathway laid
for those who choose to search ahead,
beyond thin twine, ground-cluttered root.
But less event than process set,
can karma terms fake west serene,
nirvana blow squalled feelings out,
translating eastern mystery,
now classified for takeaway?
* * *
Claire Baker has sent a French Triolet (with variations) that is based on our recent Seed of the Week, Where Am I Going?—which could fit our Ekphrastic path photo, too:
A NON-EVENT
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Showing up
To a non-event,
Filter in.
Take your seat.
Attend with
Due attention.
Wait for your time
To leave.
Conversation
At the doorway,
Walk to the parking lot.
Head back home,
Thankful you’re not alone,
In how your time is spent.
* * *
BROKEN
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
Tree limbs broken skeletons
littering the ground,
reaching out to trip us up
and add our shattered broken bones
to growing piles of firewood
that battle winter’s cold.
* * *
‘PATH TO ENLIGHTENMENT’—
LOST IN TRANSLATION
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
A promissory note by name,
exotic path, enlightenment,
as if ahead, epiphany,
a revelation, wooded glade.
Yet what approach, boundary string,
eyed metal stakes, hem hammered in,
a Hansel Gretel type of guide,
one up from breadcrumbs as a trail.
Without the grandeur, guidebook gloss—
just entrance fee plus parking lot—
is this the cost for photo shot,
to walk the path of noble truths?
Who knows if Bodhi type of leaf
amongst the timber growth displayed;
what e’er befall, a state, reserved,
day tourists seeking inner light?
But is it thus, those inward trip
hazards waiting, awakening?
The Tree, unseen for all the wood,
so is there secret, knoll or tump,
as when we’re stumped, fresh growth can sprout,
or clump of saplings burst from earth?
Maybe our labour, insight aimed,
is better focussed, arbour trained?
Yes, there are steps, and pathway laid
for those who choose to search ahead,
beyond thin twine, ground-cluttered root.
But less event than process set,
can karma terms fake west serene,
nirvana blow squalled feelings out,
translating eastern mystery,
now classified for takeaway?
* * *
Claire Baker has sent a French Triolet (with variations) that is based on our recent Seed of the Week, Where Am I Going?—which could fit our Ekphrastic path photo, too:
OH, THAT OLD QUESTION!!
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Does where we are going
depend on where we’ve been?
If no more to-and-fro-ing
then where we are going
leaves us nearly knowing
we might fall in like Flynn?
Where are we really going
flashes on where we’ve been?
* * *
Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) sent a wee poem based on a recent Seed of the Week, Trapped:
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
Does where we are going
depend on where we’ve been?
If no more to-and-fro-ing
then where we are going
leaves us nearly knowing
we might fall in like Flynn?
Where are we really going
flashes on where we’ve been?
* * *
Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) sent a wee poem based on a recent Seed of the Week, Trapped:
HAS BEEN DAY
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
has been day,
bubble bath
could not defray
pain in joints
will visit
every day
there is no
escape from
has been day
* * *
And here is an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth:
CRUISE CONTROL
—Stephen Kingsnorth
With rolling vowels I want some dots
to know precision in the sound,
an umlaut here, acute, the grave,
some jot or tittle to observe,
an assonance as open wide,
to make the point, even absurd,
that roof and spit, tongue, glottal stop
should crack the drum from mouth to ear.
And as for consonants, the same,
from curly c to kicking k,
the dance of limbs foreshadow lips;
the literate alliterate
to make us chew their tasty fare,
stick tooth picks twixt our canine teeth,
to test dexterity with text
and check the box for reading rites.
When I was taught to read at school,
phonetics was an unknown term,
but now semester, early on,
those building blocks are sounded out:
so that’s how kids use phones in class?
___________________
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 Kingsnorth
With rolling vowels I want some dots
to know precision in the sound,
an umlaut here, acute, the grave,
some jot or tittle to observe,
an assonance as open wide,
to make the point, even absurd,
that roof and spit, tongue, glottal stop
should crack the drum from mouth to ear.
And as for consonants, the same,
from curly c to kicking k,
the dance of limbs foreshadow lips;
the literate alliterate
to make us chew their tasty fare,
stick tooth picks twixt our canine teeth,
to test dexterity with text
and check the box for reading rites.
When I was taught to read at school,
phonetics was an unknown term,
but now semester, early on,
those building blocks are sounded out:
so that’s how kids use phones in class?
___________________
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!
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
•••AND/OR shall we throw out whatever classiness we have left and write a Toilet Poem? An Ode to the Throne, so to speak. Poetry Soup has already posted some for us:
•••Toilet Poem: https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/toilet
•••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 “Hands”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••American 767: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/3223
•••Analogue: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/analogue
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Blank Verse: literarydevices.net/blank-verse AND/OR www.masterclass.com/articles/poetry-101-what-is-the-difference-between-blank-verse-and-free-verse#quiz-0
•••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.
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Toilet Poem: https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/toilet
____________________
—Medusa
•••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.
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka
•••Toilet Poem: https://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/best/toilet
____________________
—Medusa
Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
Make what you can of today's
photo, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Public Domain Photo
For info upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
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.
Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column; or find previous poets
by typing the name of the poet or poem
into the little beige box at the top
left-hand side of today’s post; or go to
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(A cookie from the Kitchen for today)
chilly morning:
my pistachio tree
has borrowed
Joseph’s coat