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Friday, September 13, 2024

Jade Leaves in the Dust

 
 —Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
and Caschwa 
 
 
THERE MUST BE A SOLUTION

Last summer, a young doe in my garden,
nibbling a squash plant on verge of flowering—
I chased her away, checked internet for deer
repellents. Vinegar? Too late, she was back,
finished off the whole row. And just outside
the fence, twin fawns. They spent the summer
helping weed-eat for defensible space.

This summer, the deer are gone. I’ve heard,
our deer population’s down. Nature
unbalanced? too many mountain lions?
If deer—their preferred prey—are scarce,
is this why lions are killing goats, llamas,
donkeys, cats and dogs? Forget vinegar.
I doubt it deters hungry apex carnivores.
 
 
 


DIRT PATH OFF THE PAVED TRAIL

“No hunt!” I command. He thinks he’ll climb trees
to get that squirrel. My job is to curb
his wild-born instincts. But I know, back home,
he’ll chew on his favorite marrow bone,
maybe dreaming of chasing that squirrel,
or meditating his wolf ancestry
ever free to hunt and, unleashed, to roam.
 
 
 
 

OTIS AND THE NATURE PARK OUTHOUSE

There’s space for both of us in this dusky
dark—not exactly eldritch fairy-land,
more like an anteroom of waste. Strong
hint of air freshener complicates the stench.

Remember how our dogs, at work
on fire & earthquake rubble, searching
for survivors, would alert on standpipes
in the midst of ruin: human scent.

So why is Otis so reluctant to enter here?
Is it the confined darkness? What nightmares
may haunt the memories of a rescued dog
whose history I can only partly guess?
 
 
 


SHIFTING GEARS   

It’s holiday, I’ve had enough of paved walking trails bounded by backyard fences & industrial park. Drive with my dog upcountry. Stop—in midst of burn scar. Wildfire three years ago. Panorama: skeleton trees to the Mokelumne and Crystal Range, what we call “eternal” mountains. A vista to give human perspective. Cinch my hat tight against wind. My dog and I go walking, inspecting moonscape. Look! a single turkey mullein; doesn’t belong here, where did it come from? In dirt and ash, no critter tracks but our own. And here, a low green bush—

deep in the burn scar—
one purple-blue penstemon
with three bumblebees.
 
 
 
 

HIGH IN THE BURN SCAR

O Turkey
Mullein, belov’d of
Mourning Dove

you weed of our field’s
bad soil

jade leaves
in the dust—
starburst

I find you
high in the burn scar
pioneer

just a single one of you
striving

for life
your dove-seed
promise.
 
 
 
 

PARTNERS ON THE TRAIL

We walk. I look and listen; he sniffs, and sees
and hears what I should need to know.
His faculties far beyond our modern tech, evolved
through Time’s millennia of Wolf blood flowing
into Dog; senses honed to acuity past our measure,
and exacting as the way you’d hinge a gate.
We walk the trail observing, here, how oak woods
merge with chaparral, a confluence of biomes.
And now my dog stops abruptly to investigate
centimeter by centimeter a bit of soil with fallen
leaves, twigs, shards of rock. Very interesting!
If only he could tell me.

__________________

Today’s LittleNip:


APT ADVICE   
—Taylor Graham

An aglet assists
all-togetherness afoot
and agile ambling.

__________________

Lucky we are on this Friday the 13th to have today’s fine poetry and photos from Taylor Graham—including a smattering of responses to recent Seeds of the Week:  “Work” and “Shifting Gears”—and many thanks to her as always! Forms she has used this week include some Blank Verse (“Dirt Path off the Paved Trail”); a Haibun (“Shifting Gears”); a Word-Can Poem (“Partners on the Trail”); an Alphabet Haiku (“Apt Advice”); and a Miku Chain (“High in the Burn Scar”). The Alphabet Haiku was one of last week’s Triple-F Challenges. Past Seeds of the Week may be found at our Calliope’s Closet link above (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/calliopes-closet.html).

Writers whose mailing address is within El Dorado County are encouraged to submit to the new
Slope and Basin literary journal before its Oct. 1 deadline. Info: https://artsandcultureeldorado.org/slope-and-basin/.

Events coming up in El Dorado County Poetry this week:

•••Storytelling Sunday starts its Fall Season in Placerville, Sun. (9/15), 4:30pm;
•••Poetry in Motion in Placerville, Monday (9/16), 10:30am;
•••Ekphrastic Poetry Writing Workshop with Lara Gularte in Placerville, Wed. (9/18), 5:30pm;
•••Ekphrastic Reading from Wednesday’s workshop, Placerville, Friday (9/20), 6pm.

Coming up in El Dorado County in October (10/11-12) is Tahoe’s first-ever Tahoe Literary Festival, with workshops, panels, and key speakers in Tahoe City, CA—including an Ekphrastic workshop with Lara Gularte. $35 for the entire festival, or $15 to hear keynote speaker Obi Kaufmann on 10/11. Info: https://yourtahoeguide.com/2024/09/tahoe-literary-festival-workshops-panels-highlight-inaugural-festival/.

For more info about these and other future events in the NorCal area, click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html). El Dorado County’s regular workshops are listed on Medusa’s calendar if you scroll down on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html), For more news about EDC 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 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 response-poems from Nolcha Fox and Stephen Kingsnorth:



SEPARATION
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

I served myself a notice
that I noticed I was halved,

and needed to repair the break
I found within myself.

I could no longer play the lie
of Everything Is Fine

when part of me curled up and died
each time I kissed your cheek.

I knew I had to choose between
the life we made together,

or living whole but all alone,
to break up or be broken.
 
 
 

WANFENG SHUI
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

How easily, caught in the web,
as I asked search to find this pic;
confused as tea sets take the mick,
till dawned that China, common term.
It’s logic, deemed best rule in thought
till homophones sound, intervene;
but AI tells us what is known  
without that subtle change of tone,  
or context from a frontispiece.

A Chinese map, worldview, revealed;
where else, when Mao said all things shared,
community, all people dared.
So what the charm, this fantasy,
from lowland, common folk excised,
a bridge to only highland peaks
from island in a sunken lake,   
as rising, with the castle, wake,   
or sympathy with sinking sun?

This Wanfeng Lake Castle Hotel
plays host, a global tourist trade
with foreign currency an aid.
There’s Taiwan, from Formosa formed,
Mongolia, by empires wracked,
Tibet annexed against its will
though Dalai Lama, world respect.  
Walled commune trekked, disputed, wrecked?
Few children now face pension horde.

* * *

Here is a List poem from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz):
 
 
 
 
I’M GOING TO
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

Attorney
I’m Going to
depose the witness

Celebrity
I’m Going to
delight my fans

Chef
I’m Going to
devein the shrimp

Negotiator
I’m Going to
devise a plan

Pauper
I’m Going to
defer my payment

Painter
I’m Going to
detail the car

Scorer
I’m Going to
decide who wins

Skeptic
I’m Going to
debunk the theory

Warrior
I’m Going to
destroy my foe

Tiger
I’m Going to
Detroit, Michigan

* * *

In his search for photogenicity, Carl came up with a Haibun Chain to go with these photos of his:
 
 
 

BEYOND THE LENS
—Caschwa

out in the desert, there is of course
lots of heat, dry air which helps keep
allergies from dancing into the spotlight,
and material objects that yield to their
shadows to express dimensions

there’s lots of pictures
ready to be captured by
photo imagery
 
 


in the museum, walled in everywhere,
lay demonstrative evidence of history
subject to the varied interpretations of
academic experts and small school children
alike

what does this art mean?
random paint strokes all over
sandpaper canvas
 
 
 

thunderous crashing waves erase sand castles
as they redecorate the shoreline with shells
and other debris from far, far below

taste the salty air
feel vibrations when waves crack
consume the ocean
 
 
 
 
waterfowl don’t take classes
they already know when they are newborn
how to follow their mama into the water

humans age some first
then take swimming pool lessons
get cards when they pass
 
 
 

* * *

And here is an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth:
 
 
 

PURGATORY
—Stephen Kingsnorth

Despite demands of pills and glass
why would my head wrest pillow, bed,
demand I sit, scrawl emptied pen,
some turn of phrase tossed from the sheets?

I raid waste basket, draw a blank
old tablet box, as pre-scribe, tear,
by humming lamp and echo gnat,
secure what dawning light leaves dim
its refuse bin, recycle used.

By bed, a drawer named ‘indisposed’,
of stuff in purgatory floats,
the junk that may yet steer a course,
but undecided, save or not.

See keys without a lock to turn,
a whitener pot longs for a rôle,
pack stickit notes whose glow none see,
still watches, jealous, bright wrist bands,
glue Gloy’s red mouth, long stopped, now glazed.

Nib hoping ink might fount again,
a string strand wants to be attached,
sealing wax, boy thought ceiling stamp—
as now the muse is fired again.

____________________

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 is an Old English form known as a Hexaduad:

•••Hexaduad (and Inverted Hexaduad): https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/hexaduad

•••AND/OR a Haiga. A Haiga is a Haiku accompanied by a picture.

•••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 “Snapshots”.

____________________

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

•••Abbreviated Haiku (Miku): https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/abbreviated-haiku
•••Alphabet Haiku: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/alphabet-haiku
•••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
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Haibun: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/haibun-poems-poetic-form
•••Haiga: Haiku accompanied by a picture
•••Hexaduad (and Inverted Hexaduad): https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/hexaduad
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••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

___________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
Autumn Girl

 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
Courtesy of Joe Nolan,
Stockton, CA












 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
For 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!