Friday, November 08, 2024

And Raven Just Laughs

 —Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday, with poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Joe Nolan,
Stephen Kingsnorth, and Caschwa
 
 
OCTOBER 29   

Blue sky on brown land
in the woods two oaks fallen
waiting for some rain
 
 
 


DAY OF THE DEAD   

In nature is dark and light,
in our nature, mourning and laughter.
Today we welcome back the spirits
of loved ones. A day of celebration.
I’m walking the old town churchyard,
headstones so old, one is face-to-
face with an oak that sprouted after
the deceased was buried here.
Another stone stands half-wrapped
in a cozy comforter of living bark
and heartwood; life insistent
over death. Here, a more recent grave
is bright with artificial flowers.
Some have been scattered at large
on bare ground—shiny fake blooms
in red, pink, and periwinkle. Who
would do that? Overhead,
Raven utters a single croaking peal
like laughter.
 
 
 
 

SUGAR SKULLS ON MAIN STREET

She sits in midst of her ofrenda—
marigolds and butterflies, no doubt.
a sugar skull, and photos – who is
she mourning here? as we walkers pass
between gallery and bell tower
where tonight there stands a gigantic
skeleton in poncho and flowers,
his sombrero’d skull to touch sunset
clouds; and deep music – La Llorona,
La Zandunga – as daylight turns to
dark of the night. Who or what is she
mourning on the curb with her altar?
 
 
 
 

HOME SECURITY CAMERA

The screen is dark as our world
at midnight—what looks to be someone’s
porch. Wait. By video light, a lanky
white feline figure moves silently across,
carrying something in its jaws.
A smaller creature, black and white rings
on bushy tail. Raccoon—used to be,
dead in the lion’s mouth. Maybe
to be discovered by daylight if not buried.
The big cat is gone.
 
 
 


WHERE YOU ARE
first line is last line of Lowell Jaeger’s
“An Awakening”


Yours are acres the wild wants back.
It’s not like the old days—when you moved
way out here; when mountain lions
kept their distance from human doings.
Not now. You’ve seen lion gauging
your henhouse fence in full-color middle
of the day. Last night a guy down the road
lost two sheep. How about your  
grandson, five-year-old explorer, he could be
gone in the instant you’re not looking.
 
 
 
 
 
HUNTING THE SMOKED TROUT
    for Otis

He caught the drift of scent sublime,
it triggered instincts of the wild,
his ancestry before man’s time,
his birthright as a wolfish child.

That rainbow trout must be for him.
Don’t call it just a passing whim.
He’d follow it from fridge to plate—
How dare I lock him in his crate!

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

APPLE ADVICE
—Taylor Graham   

Don’t ever give up
says the apple tree, its trunk
woodpecker-riddled—
and look at its new green twigs
bursting to become tree limbs.

___________________

Taylor Graham went to the Sugar Skull Art Walk in Placerville last Saturday, and captured all these wonderful images for us on her camera. We thank her for them and for her fine poetry! Forms she has used this week include a Last Line First (“Where You Are”); a Tanka (“Apple Advice”); a Rispetto (“Hunting the Smoked Trout”); a Haiku (“October 29”); and some Normative Syllabics (“Sugar Skulls on Main Street”). The Last Line First form is when you start with the last line of someone else's poem. The beginning of TG’s “Day of the Dead” poem refers to our recent Seed of the Week, “In Nature, there is darkness as well as light, and all shades in between.” Note the other references to darkness, such as the lions that are patrolling our area, hoping for raccoon steak… In nature there is darkness of all sorts, yes?

In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, Poetic License meets in Placerville Monday morning, 10:30am. El Dorado County’s regular workshops are listed on Medusa’s calendar if you scroll down on http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html. And 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/. And you can always click on Medusa's UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS (http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html). 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


According to Wikipedia, the pomegranate is prominently featured in the myth of Hades and Persephone. Hades, God of the underworld, used pomegranate seeds to trick Persephone into returning to the underworld for a few months of every year. Alongside death, the pomegranate symbolised fertility in Ancient Greece and Rome.

Last week’s pomegranate photo inspired several poets, including Nolcha Fox. Stephen Kingsnorth, and Caschwa:



DANGLING RED
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

Piñatas, or perhaps,
pomegranates pulsing
red, ready for the end of fall.
Fall is what they choose to do,
I scoop them from the ground.
I’m not stealing, just revealing
I can clean the litter off the leaves.

* * *

OCTOBER DELIGHT
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

Pretty, pretty
Pomegranates
Hanging from a tree
Promises of sweetness—
Christmas in October,
Just in time
For Halloween—
Something to be thankful for
Come our next Thanksgiving,
If they last that long—
Blessings of the season,
We love our lovely Autumn.

So sweet and tangy
Red and juicy,
Bright red ornaments
Hanging over
Green, green moss,
Grown under
All the shade
From the arcing canopy
Of our beloved tree.
Harbingers of Christmas
Coming after Fall.

* * *
 
 
 (Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Stephen Kingsnorth)


GRANITE GOD?
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

I’ve never seen this fruit in growth—
I cannot even spell its name;
my youth spent climbing Dartmoor’s tors
embedded granite in my store.
As for the walls, damp mossy roof,
this village chapel (I first saw—
that conifer, aspiring spire0—
I felt at home, with apple store,
the seeded core, west country moors.

I thought of Culbone, smallest church,
attending during scout camp near,
below a purple-headed mount,
for ‘All things bright and beautiful’,
the children’s hymn was written here.
Be ‘rich man in his castle’ damned,
though not that poor man at his gate—
no god made them high or lowly,
still less god ordered their estate.

Perhaps pōmum grānātum fruit
was seeded apple, Eden’s tree,
as sins, forefathers, farthest reach—
for god is in man’s image made?
While much achieved, small acts of faith
for humankind and nature’s life,
religion also weaponised,
triumphalism, as god claimed,
possession of the chosen few.


* * *

And here is an Ars Poetica from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) about writing in the modern world, using keyboards instead of pens:
 
 

 
KEYBOARDS AND ICE CREAM CONES
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

(in response to a recent Seed of the Week,
“Danger!”)


oopsy! little mistake, not to worry
just hit other keys to edit and it’s
A-OK

oopsy! little mistake, no auto-correct
can’t use thumb to stop the dripping
that would only make it worse

case, number, tense, subject or object
words that used to have sex, now it is
gender, along with all the insinuations

one scoop or two, sugar or waffle cone
usually low price, perfect when served,
then it swerves all over the place

acoustic piano, no shift, Alt, or Ctrl keys
no labels, no preview screen, just do it

that’s what I ordered, maybe too much to
control with the tongue alone, just do it

____________________

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.) Let’s use the form Taylor Graham has presented, the “Last Line First”:

•••Last Line First: start with the last line of someone else’s poem (be sure to credit the line to the proper poet)

•••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 “Horses”.

____________________

GRAMMAR CHALLENGE: Brush Up On Your Its-es
 
 

 
Can you put all the appropriate apostrophes in the its-es here? Don’t scoff; I get incorrect its-es all the time, some of them from otherwise-accomplished poets. "It" is the only pronoun whose apostrophe goes with the "It is" contraction, not the possessive. Why? Because otherwise we couldn't use "it's" for "it is". So brush up on your its-es with the challenge below:


Its been a long time since its last haircut, and
its wanting to know if its getting one today. Its
a long way to the mall its in, there nest to its 
ice cream place, the one its advertising in the 
local news rag; I forget what its name is. So off
to the haircut joint, with its bored cutters and its
kids running around. Its time…

____________________

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
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Last Line First: start with the last line of someone else’s poem
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Rispetto: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/poetic-forms-rispetto
•••Tanka: poets.org/glossary/tanka

___________________

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

* * *

—Artwork Courtesy of Public Domain
 
 
 
 
 




















A reminder that
Lit Fest 4 is happening
in Winters tonight, 6pm.
For info about this and other
 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!