Magic Could Be Anywhere~

 —Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Joe Nolan, Nolcha Fox, Caschwa,
Stephen Kingsnorth, Sue Crisp,
and Joe Nolan

—Photo of Otis by Heather Lozano

 

 

STONES IN THEIR SETTINGS

It’s summer. Still weed-eating. Thistledown
journeying on a north-wind. I’m freeing
stones that were hidden under green graces
of spring. The grasses are brown now, the rocks
remain. A lusty wind polishes each
facet—their fractures, crevices, lichens
and mosses. Let them show their singular
faces when I walk this weed-eaten hill
under the ever-shifting shade of oaks.

 

 

 

 Otis
—Photo by Heather Lozano

COMPROMISE

He wants to hunt, I want to walk.
We compromise. He’s on a long-line clipped
to his harness, instead of a 6-foot leash.
It gives him some latitude, a sense of freedom
on the trail. He lusts for scent of ground-
squirrel and scans the horizon for deer.
I’m focused on meadow phlox and lupine,
paintbrush, corn-flower, tower delphinium,
song of mountain chickadee—
while translating his body-language.
Should he take off in pursuit of his wild,
he’d drag me along with him.
I won’t cut him loose for the chase.
This is compromise?

 

 

 

 

COUGAR SCAT

The track runs through woods,
though train is gone.
We walk here,
open
eyes.
Eyes
open,
we walk here
though train is gone.
The track runs through woods.

__________________

SPEED

Marmot on concrete barricade
off scenic mountain road
a glimpse
gone from our perspective
as we drive our memories home

 

 

 

 

APPARITIONS

A doe
crossed the trail, then
she looked back for her fawn
coming so cautiously across,
then the two of them looked
back at me and
were gone.

 

 

 

 

AFTER THE FOURTH

We walk the county fairgrounds
two days after the fireworks
when we stayed home.

Four miles as Raven flies
across canyon and ridge,
we missed the flash & boom.

Fairgrounds are cleaned up,
temporary barricades remain—
portable livestock-pen fencing.

In the Enchanted Garden
the good witch is gone
like passing time.

A thin wooden fence-post girl
still stands at attention
holding firecracker & flag.

Magic Could Be Anywhere,
the signpost reads—
to a quiet state of mind.

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

ELEMENTARY
—Taylor Graham   

Closed-for-vacation classroom rows—
blackberry vine invades a planted
hedge; see its baby buds intent on
becoming berries, children growing
in the imperfectly tended world.

___________________

 

Magic can happen anywhere—and Taylor Graham brings us magic every Friday with her fine poems and pix—many thanks to her and her sidekick, Otis, for that! Forms she has sent us today include some Blank Verse (“Stones in Their Settings”); a Dribble (“Speed”); an Egg Timer (“Cougar Scat”); an Eintou (“Apparitions”); a Triversen (“After the Fourth”); and some Normative Syllabics (“Elementary”). The Egg Timer was one of our Triple-F Challenges last week, and poems referring to compromise are in response to our Tuesday Seed of the Week.

El Dorado County’s Poetry in Motion will meet next Monday morning in Placerville, 10:30am. And El Dorado County has a regular schedule of workshops, weekly and otherwise; go to Medusa’s link, UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) and scroll down to the section on workshops. For news about El Dorado County poetry—past (photos!) and future—see Taylor Graham’s Western Slope El Dorado Poetry on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ElDoradoCountyPoetry. Or see Lara Gularte’s Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/groups/382234029968077/. (Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!) And of course you can always click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html) for details about future poetry events in the NorCal area.


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.)


Check out our recently-refurbed 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 and other ways of poetry. 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

 

Last week’s photo brought out several responses; music beats strong in the hearts of poets! We received Ekphrastic poems from Joe Nolan, Nolcha Fox, Caschwa (Carl Schwartz), Stephen Kingsnorth, and Sue Crisp:


’50's JAZZ BAND
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

It’s a ’50's jazz-band
With men dressed up in suits,
Fingering their instruments.

It’s a chance to rescue starlight
For lovers
With only their own
Loneliness
To lose.

Too loose.
Their playing all their
Rhythms
Way too loose,
Letting other
Beats sneak in
From the sides.

It gets a little
All mixed-up
Even a
Little fried,

But no one is complaining
Sine they’re making
Very good time
On the side.

* * *

ONE DRINK TOO MANY
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

I know my limit.
More than one drink
is my sad undoing.
I admit that I lost count.
Last night was too distracting.
Now a trio in my head plays
jazz that makes my jaw ache.
I must have brought
them home with me
and left my undies
and my pride to play jazz
in their place.

• • •

LET US SING TOGETHER
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

O’ say can you see
past the thin edge of currency
how our Democratic experiment
left the Secure Compartmental
Information Facility

trickling out like a rare allotment
blood fed red carpet treatment
highest bidders got their wish
leaving us no coin, not even the dish
hogging freedom like candy

we raise up hand-written signs
to announce yours and mines
but without standing to have a voice
they are no part of real decisions of choice
he’s a Yankee Doodle Dandy

big money lets us dawdle
in versions of role model
because at the end of the day
the bell rings and they play
while sipping the finest brandy

* * *

CHANGES
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

Strum and drum with double base,
each cymbal ready, clashing crash;
well-suited, tie striped uniform,
with gloss, sleek shine, brilliantine,
against green grey blues hinterland.

But are they background in our deal,
in concert, yet with strings attached,
a rhythm, free to improvise
in keeping with our limits set,
a few bills, greenback book as screened?

Havana, least Hispanic thrill,
Latino in tradition’s tale,
despicable, collective names
belittle those who entertain
like minstrels, staged, our benefit.

But is it banned, these jazzy types,
a band of players in a jam—
if they should need facilities?
Yes, welcome they should enter, play,
but know their place in black and white.

It is ingrained, like bow and scrape,
and plucky to escape the rule
of those precast, thought preordained
to be the masters of the race,
a symbol some would rather play.

* * *
 
WE GOT THIS!
—Sue Crisp, Shingle Springs, CA

A little bit of soul, a little bit of JAZZ,
and that’s not all this trio has.

Dressed in the fashion of the day,
gives their music its swing and sway.

Hot music from this small Jazz Band,
taking us back to the cool tones of Jazz Land.

* * *

And here’s today’s closer, this one from Josh Frank:

 

 

A MODERNIZATION OF “TO HIS COY MISTRESS”   
—Joshua C. Frank

You say we should some years delay
The coming of our wedding day,
But God commanded us to try
To fruitful be and multiply.
To make new life, we cannot shirk;
The night shall come, when none can work.
Just as she cannot grow more legs,
A baby girl has all her eggs;
In adolescence they will start
To walk onstage and then depart,
And monthly one by one they pass
Like sand grains in an hourglass,
And once the time onstage is missed,
One soul for Heaven won’t exist.
That we may strive to give them life,
Come with me now and be my wife.

 

(First published in The Society of Classical Poets)

___________________

Many thanks to today’s writers for their lively contributions! Wouldn’t you like to join them? 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 these challenges, and send your results to kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.) Here’s a Haiku form we haven’t tried:

•••Ethnographic Haiku: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/ethnographic-haiku

•••AND/OR, given our Ekphrastic photo of the week (see below), let’s revisit the Epulaeryu:

•••Epulaeryu: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/epulaeryu.html AND/OR https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/epulaeryu

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

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

____________________

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

•••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
•••Dribble: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/dribble
•••Egg Timer: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/egg-beater
•••Eintou: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/eintou
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Epulaeryu: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/epulaeryu.html AND/OR https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/epulaeryu
•••Ethnographic Haiku: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/ethnographic-haiku
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Triversen: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/triversen-poetic-form

___________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
 
 Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)

* * *

—Public Domain Photo

 

For info about
future 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—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom of
the blue column at the right
 to find the date you want.

Would you like to be a SnakePal?
Guidelines are at the top of this page
at the Placating the Gorgon link;
send poetry and/or photos and artwork
to kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!