Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddlers’ Friday,
with Poetry by Joe Nolan, Lynn White,
Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Melissa Lemay, and Claire J. Baker
I drove in a cloud to get here but it lifted,
lying in layers of lighter and deeper gray.
In this open field destined for development,
new rain-born grasses push thru the old dead weeds—
golden wild oat, clover pompons gone silvery.
Pond willow yellowing, and a scarlet leafed tree
along the creek. Not so far from city—silence,
yet my birdsong app records ruby-crowned kinglet
white-crowned sparrow our winter visitor from high
Sierra summers. Savannah sparrow too. And
under those layers of variegated gray cloud
blows chilly breeze across this field like a summons.
ICE ON THE BUCKET
from Sylvia Plath’s “Nick and the Candlestick”
You weren’t prepared for this day, its
dawning freeze, its dying yellows
of leaf, though heartwoods hearten
from root of a malingering year, O
seasons! Must everything we love
keep changing? Parka, mittens, how
we cope with November. Well, did
you get new wipers for that car you
bought for summer mountains? get
tires to bear you there from here?
This is a new day for discovery, O
chances that commence in embryo,
not ending even in remembering.
The odds are yours, and odder even
than you ever dreamed in sleep.
WALKING IN THE RAIN
There’ll be no bel canto singer beside the trail,
no flitter of songbirds in the dripping trees.
Even the feral cats would be curled up
snug in their wizened brambles. So where
should I walk? Under solar panels
in the high school parking lot?
What sort of walk is that? Shall I leave
my raincoat hanging in the closet, sit looking
through window glass at this blessed rain?
not feel it on my face, see it dropping
all around me like earth’s manna? And how
about my dog—sitting at the door,
watching my every cloud-opening thought?
SCATTERED WATERS EGRET
In honor of Indigenous
water art at the gallery,
Egret has blessed our city creek
belittered though it be
RAINY DAY QUESTION
How can this wild
maple survive
rooted in creek-
rock against rock-
wall in the seasonal flooding
ravage of a city’s grubby
flow down the creek?
MEMORIAL FOR A SEARCHER
A convocation
of ravens in pines—and we
gather, too many
for the church, we’re the awkward
survivors sitting
cramped as searchers in a jeep—
departed friend of
so many missions ago—
the dark bowl’s circling
tone gathers—thru plain glass panes
I watch rain on head-
stones, names, dates weathered away—
a great walker, he
for years wheelchair-bound, his mind
yet ranging free—now
it’s Amazing Grace, lost but
found—and we here still searching.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WILD INSPIRATIONS
—Taylor Graham
from the time you woke, everything
you read or saw seeming to converge toward
a central truth, an embryo, nexus,
thought or image yet to manifest, germ
of a poem in spite of you.
___________________
Rain! Taylor Graham’s rain dances have paid off in some blessed steady sky-water this week, and she has celebrated it with some fine poetry and photos. Forms she has used include some Normative Syllabics (“Status Report, November”); a Golden Shovel (“Ice on the Bucket”); a Ryūka (“Scattered Waters Egret”); an Ars Poetica (“Wild Inspirations”); a Termelay (“Rainy Day Question”); and a Choka (“Memorial for a Searcher”). About these, TG writes: “‘Scattered Waters Egret’” refers to the current ‘Scattered Water Droplets’ exhibition of Indigenous art at Arts and Culture's Switchboard Gallery in Placerville (poster for the exhibit features an egret). ‘Memorial for a Searcher’ is maybe kind of an Elegy.” Also, her “Wild Inspirations” refers to an embryo, a recent Seed of the Week being “Embryo”.
In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, 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/. 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!
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!
* * *
Several poets sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo, including Joe Nolan, Lynn White, Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Melissa Lemay:
OLD-FASHIONED FRUIT-STAND
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Just an old-fashioned fruit-stand,
Set against rolling green hills,
So lovely
All the colors
Of the fruit,
So lively
All the green
And such a lovely
Sunshine day
It takes your breath away.
The hills might be
California in May,
But wherefrom
All the fruit?
By the time the fruit
In gorgeous, here,
Our hills have all turned brown—
Waiting for a wet kiss
From Winter.
* * *
APPLES ARE NOT THE ONLY FRUIT
—Lynn White, Blaenau Ffestiniog, North Wales
Apples are not the only fruit
but they come in a wider colour range
than oranges
and without the dark side that came
with Winterson.
All’s well in the world of apples
conspiring daily to keep the doctor away.
* * *
LITTLE BOXES
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
We’re sorted into boxes
in the autumn of our lives.
We look good from a distance
but our age shows, if you’re close.
We’re sorted into boxes,
pickle-balling, or in a rest home,
raising grandkids when our own
kids lost their way.
We’re sorted into boxes
waiting for our winter season,
when we’ll be plucked
by Death to be
forgiven and forgotten.
* * *
IMPORT
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
The journey’s stalled but just for one,
as she would drink in fruit stall hues
and hinterland of backdrop screen,
but his aim solely A to B—
perspective on two rules in rôles.
Arrival first, or enjoy ride,
like apple, orange, in compare;
what is the driving force engaged—
tasting trip or getting on—
the venture, or the end in site?
Though yellow, orange, green and red,
appeal of colour offered there—
though peel discarded, its job done—
attracting custom to the point…
a wayside stop or travel on?
For him, distraction from set plan,
the ticking clock while pedal power;
for her, distraction, travel wars,
so stiff, so stilted, maybe more;
that wee thought, easier for men.
I did stop once on taxi ride,
Gwahati to Shillong, Assam,
but that when vehicle had stalled,
bump starting tried down hairpin hill—
thought plantain, pineapple, my last.
Rucksacks galore, the trunk was filled—
unlike near jumbo, timber haul—
Ambassador car, backseat six
as far from Cambridge as could be—
but we the only import here.
So take your pick of route and fare,
her jaunt, or his gaunt square-jawed goal,
tapped tourist root or getting there.
Your palate may suit palette fruit,
but tempting apples lead astray.
* * *
SCENIC VIEWS
—Melissa Lemay, Lancaster, PA
sprawling hills…
my mind is fixed on
throwing whole crates
of apples over the edge.
* * *
And here is Melissa’s response to our current Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Blustery Day”. She has called this a Haiku Sonnet, with the caveat that she has adjusted the form to fit her poem:
OF LITTLE CONCERN
—Melissa Lemay, Lancaster, PA
Trash cans blow over
on the curb, across the street
last leaves drift down
from sagacious trees.
Trees have no concern where
they grow, driving their
roots into the earth
anywhere they’re planted.
We should be so lucky.
A bird feeder swings,
striking a beam on the porch.
* * *
Claire Baker sent a response to our recent Seed of the Week, “Embryo”:
EMBRYO IN PROGRESS
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
While at rest
on pale pink recliners
do embryos reach for ancient
squelched kin, still not
completely expelled
by thrusted tools?
Are embryos
determined to cling
in residuals of a porcelain
thimble of tears, a trembling from fears
for their prime-time in life
not yet realized?
What does an embryo
in progress
want to ask of
and inform
a would-be
mother?
* * *
Here is an Ars Poetica from Stephen Kingsnorth about “work scribbled furiously late at night”, with shades of the Embryo, our recent Seed of the Week. His reference to Advent is also appropriate for the Christian season of Advent, which begins Dec. 1:
ADVENT STRIKE
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Each poem has its advent stay,
waiting for the birthing day,
pregnant pause, another night,
twenty-four more chimes to bite,
biding till a sending hour,
dreading breech in hushing speech,
tempting forceps kept in tray,
bend over cord with ready blade.
Some work scribbled furiously,
late at night spirit inspired—
better if small-crafted beer—
gem or germ, mixed litter strewn.
awaiting light, hangover drawn.
Not warmth because the yeast must work,
for pastry resting, left for cold,
too late for that, the rising pact,
but that the gluten might relax,
a word to change, a comma add,
an eroteme or phrase reverse.
If result too stiff to scroll,
never try to warm it up,
whack it, shock it, into prone.
The cookbook tells me what to do;
submission through the rolling pin.
If that declined, then knock it out,
count merciless, with finger point.
But this, maybe Caesar, come—
so button hover, hold back, strike,
not because the iron hot,
for malleable long before.
So taken shape, some rhythmic flow;
now, once sent, then Coventry,
wait patiently, hope second birth.
____________________
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!
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Each poem has its advent stay,
waiting for the birthing day,
pregnant pause, another night,
twenty-four more chimes to bite,
biding till a sending hour,
dreading breech in hushing speech,
tempting forceps kept in tray,
bend over cord with ready blade.
Some work scribbled furiously,
late at night spirit inspired—
better if small-crafted beer—
gem or germ, mixed litter strewn.
awaiting light, hangover drawn.
Not warmth because the yeast must work,
for pastry resting, left for cold,
too late for that, the rising pact,
but that the gluten might relax,
a word to change, a comma add,
an eroteme or phrase reverse.
If result too stiff to scroll,
never try to warm it up,
whack it, shock it, into prone.
The cookbook tells me what to do;
submission through the rolling pin.
If that declined, then knock it out,
count merciless, with finger point.
But this, maybe Caesar, come—
so button hover, hold back, strike,
not because the iron hot,
for malleable long before.
So taken shape, some rhythmic flow;
now, once sent, then Coventry,
wait patiently, hope second birth.
____________________
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!
•••Vignette Form: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/vignette-form
•••AND/OR a Trochadiddle; don’t let all the fancy terminology kerfuddle you:
•••Trochadiddle (Trō-ka-did-dle): https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/trochadiddle
•••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 “Blustery Day”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Ars Poetica: www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/ars-poetica
•••Choka: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/choka
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Elegy: https://poets.org/glossary/elegy
•••Golden Shovel: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/golden-shovel-poetic-form
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Haiku Sonnet (four Haiku followed by two lines of seven syllables each): www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/haiku-sonnet-poetic-form
•••Normative Syllabics: hellopoetry.com/collection/108/normative-syllabic-free-verse AND/OR lewisturco.typepad.com/poetics/normative-syllabic-verse
•••Ryūka: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ryūka
•••Vignette Form: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/vignette-form
•••Termelay: poetscollective.org/poetryforms/termelay
•••Trochadiddle (Trō-ka-did-dle): https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/trochadiddle
__________________
—Medusa
Today's Ekphrastic Challenge!
Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
Make what you can of today's
picture, and send your poetic results to
kathykieth@hotmail.com/. (No deadline.)
* * *
—Photo Courtesy of Public Domain
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!
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!
