* * *
—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,
Caschwa (Carl Schwartz), and Claire J. Baker
AMAZING MAZE
I’m footloose in unknown woods—
a sign says Big Trees at a fork.
No one has mapped the trails
of which there are so very many.
A sign says Big Trees at a fork
and where do the other ways go,
of which there are so very many?
Here’s Oak Canyon going east
and where do the other ways go
in the silence of living trees?
Here’s Oak Canyon going east
at a 4-way junction without signs
in the silence of living trees.
Am I lost in this adventure?
At a 4-way junction without signs
I might discover wonders.
Am I lost in this adventure?
I’m footloose. In unknown woods
I might discover wonders!
No one has mapped the trails.
I’m footloose in unknown woods—
a sign says Big Trees at a fork.
No one has mapped the trails
of which there are so very many.
A sign says Big Trees at a fork
and where do the other ways go,
of which there are so very many?
Here’s Oak Canyon going east
and where do the other ways go
in the silence of living trees?
Here’s Oak Canyon going east
at a 4-way junction without signs
in the silence of living trees.
Am I lost in this adventure?
At a 4-way junction without signs
I might discover wonders.
Am I lost in this adventure?
I’m footloose. In unknown woods
I might discover wonders!
No one has mapped the trails.
COUNTRY ROAD, DOWNPOUR
He walks clutching bedroll to chest. Where did
he sleep last night? Where tonight?
What shelter in between?
He walks clutching bedroll to chest. Where did
he sleep last night? Where tonight?
What shelter in between?
WINDS OF WARNING
The rest of the Wilderness trail crew
was gone, fighting lightning fires. I stayed
on patrol. Why did I choose to hike
up to the crest as the storm closed in?
From such a vantage, thunder-
clouds were everywhere the sky was.
Sudden bright zigzags to the north,
northeast, east, south, behind me.
Wildfire wind pushing me down—
wind of warning: Stupid
to stay so high. Hustle down.
Not yet. I had no camera. It takes time,
to record a picture in my mind,
while the mind keeps saying “Down.
Now!” How I love thunderstorms.
WINDS OF CHANGE
a fantasy
It came so gradually, after so many hurricanes,
tornados, firestorms swept thru, destroying,
devastating—the winds
began to lessen, and the people rejoiced, forgetting
how everything is bound together in its cycles and
currents, nature’s laws bowing to climate change.
Winds were failing, fading. With not a puff of
moving air, flags hung heavy on their poles. Where
were the sea breezes,
the zephyrs, breath and songs of sky,
winds flying kites, thermals
lifting birds to soar?
Cities stagnated under polluted skies. People had to
wear masks. Sailboats were becalmed, wind turbines
stood still. Poets languished in doldrums, no gusts
of inspiration. They fell back on imagination and
memory of winds—
winds that once blew words and phrases
thru their heads.
But it just wasn’t the same.
DOG OBEDIENCE
A Doberman and his handler were in line,
waiting at the obedience ring. As the judge,
a Black man, turned to face them, the handler
declared loud enough for all to hear: My dog
hates Blacks. His turn came, the rest of us
dreading the stand-for-examination, when
handler leaves his dog on a stand-stay, then
walks leash-length away, and the judge
approaches, touches the dog on head, body,
hindquarters. What would this racist dog do?
He wagged his docked tail, vigorously, non-
stop, delighted to meet such a nice human.
Clearly, the handler had not trained his dog
well enough to meet his expectations.
A Doberman and his handler were in line,
waiting at the obedience ring. As the judge,
a Black man, turned to face them, the handler
declared loud enough for all to hear: My dog
hates Blacks. His turn came, the rest of us
dreading the stand-for-examination, when
handler leaves his dog on a stand-stay, then
walks leash-length away, and the judge
approaches, touches the dog on head, body,
hindquarters. What would this racist dog do?
He wagged his docked tail, vigorously, non-
stop, delighted to meet such a nice human.
Clearly, the handler had not trained his dog
well enough to meet his expectations.
THE GOOD OLD DAYS
Remember when we’d do Improv Poetry
on Main Street, typing original poems on request—
folks fascinated by our on-the-spot creation
of verse composed just for them, on a real-live
manual typewriter. Some people were too young
to have seen one except maybe in a museum.
We’d sit on folding metal chairs—no cushion—
under a popup or not, summer sun or cold winter
evening. Remember how we sat outside
the news store while people got rides
around a city block in a real-live stagecoach
from Gold Rush days. But all good things must
end and, without discussion, our typewriter
gig died abruptly with Covid, and
it never came back.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WIND DANCE
—Taylor Graham
Fallen leaves skitter
down just-swept sidewalk, released
to their winter dance.
___________________
The wonders of winter and our Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Winds of Warning”, are on Taylor Graham’s mind today, and we thank her for her fine poetry and photos!. Forms she has used include two Kimos (“Country Road”, “Downpour”); a 14-liner that is also an unruly Sonnet (“Dog Obedience”); an Ars Poetica (“Winds of Change”); a Pantoum (“Amazing Maze”); a Haiku (“Wind Dance”); and a Word-Can Poem (“The Good Old Days”). The Pantoum was one of our Triple-F Challenges last week.
In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, there will be a Poet Laureate Trail reading by El Dorado County Poet Laureate Stephen Meadows in El Dorado Hills on Wednesday, 1/29, 5:30pm. Plus, 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), too. Poetry is Gold in El Dorado County!
And now it’s time for…
FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY!
Remember when we’d do Improv Poetry
on Main Street, typing original poems on request—
folks fascinated by our on-the-spot creation
of verse composed just for them, on a real-live
manual typewriter. Some people were too young
to have seen one except maybe in a museum.
We’d sit on folding metal chairs—no cushion—
under a popup or not, summer sun or cold winter
evening. Remember how we sat outside
the news store while people got rides
around a city block in a real-live stagecoach
from Gold Rush days. But all good things must
end and, without discussion, our typewriter
gig died abruptly with Covid, and
it never came back.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
WIND DANCE
—Taylor Graham
Fallen leaves skitter
down just-swept sidewalk, released
to their winter dance.
___________________
The wonders of winter and our Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Winds of Warning”, are on Taylor Graham’s mind today, and we thank her for her fine poetry and photos!. Forms she has used include two Kimos (“Country Road”, “Downpour”); a 14-liner that is also an unruly Sonnet (“Dog Obedience”); an Ars Poetica (“Winds of Change”); a Pantoum (“Amazing Maze”); a Haiku (“Wind Dance”); and a Word-Can Poem (“The Good Old Days”). The Pantoum was one of our Triple-F Challenges last week.
In El Dorado County’s poetry events this week, there will be a Poet Laureate Trail reading by El Dorado County Poet Laureate Stephen Meadows in El Dorado Hills on Wednesday, 1/29, 5:30pm. Plus, 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), too. 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!
* * *
Last Week’s Ekphrastic Photo
Poets who sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo included Nolcha Fox, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Joe Nolan:
LOOK CLOSELY
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
I’m not another pretty face
in thick fur coat with
diamond rings.
Before you leave,
I’ll have your wallet
and your safe deposit keys.
Look closely and you’ll
see my mask, and you
will know you’re skunked.
• • •
STUNK
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Though reputation goes before—
not native of my homeland soil—
there’s hint of mink or ermine stole,
the skulking plots, ignoble Lords,
that stolen standing, woman, man.
It smells corruption, Tudor Court,
like Henry and his many wives,
a renaissance of burning stakes,
as axemen at the gallows lopped,
soiled rank was pulled, creating stink.
With polecats, nobles, weasel words,
Algonquin for its likely root,
the skunk, known, ‘urinating fox’,
though spray deployed does not enhance
implied insult, abusage term.
Their spray preserved by warning signs,
of hissing, stamping, raising tales,
the smell of papists, heretics,
once in their nostrils, prey pursued,
foul stench of devil, so abhorred.
That reek for course was on all sides,
religion used, supposed excuse,
ambition of the king, his men
for lineage as divine right
with lands, more wealth, best patronage.
But as for where those skunks are scene,
they’re not just ancient history—
that motivation everywhere;
it is the scent of politics,
sent into would-be stratosphere.
* * *
WHAT ABOUT PEPE LePEW?
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Pictures of skunks
Inspire poetry
That stinks.
It’s hardly worth
Its paper’s ink.
What shall we say
Of skunks?
It’s better to keep your distance
Than get a spray
That takes weeks
To wear away.
If left alone
Far distant
Skunks might have place
In our world.
What is it that skunks do?
What about that sex-fiend,
Pepe LePew?
* * *
Joe has also sent us an Elegy:
THE DEATH OF THOMAS MERTON
—Joe Nolan
Did you at least find
Peace of mind
Inner poise
Contentment or satisfaction?
At least a
State of grace—
A holy place
To which you could retreat
And call home?
All the mystics have known
The Temple is within,
That the Son is in the Father and the
Father is in the Son and
That we are all one
In the unity of the Holy Spirit
Forever and ever,
Amen.
They just have to be careful how they express it,
If they even choose to,
So as not to run afoul
Of the laws against blasphemy.
The powers that be
Don’t want all the little peons
To be too free.
They might get uppity.
Stake-burnings
Are so cruel.
What happened to Thomas Merton?
Another electric crucifixion?
There are risks
In making it all-too clear
To the minions, the millions,
The classic masses
Who, left in ignorance,
Would just remain asses—
Meat for the grinders
That twist and turn
Mangle and burn
Underneath flags,
They parade for the lasses
To whom they hope to return.
Did you at least find
Peace of mind
Inner poise
Or was all the beating of drums
For rhythm-work
Just more noise
And a search for reckless abandon?
What of staring at walls
And watching your breath?
Did it ever lead to your ego’s death
And the advent of satori?
Or did it only bore you?
Make your legs sore
Make you wonder if there
Were not more
For you to do with your time
Than try to control your mind?
Thomas Merton never claimed
He would return
Or asked his students
To remember his name or proclaim
That He had entered the One,
To take up cups
Or break bread
In his honor.
He just went away
When his body
Was fried in a tub.
* * *
Carl Schwartz has been fiddling with the Nonce form; this one is axax axax axax:
DEMOCRACY, IN SERVICE TO THE KING
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
in bowling, the kingpin dares the ball
to push it aside in a way to
topple nine more pins so that they fall
out of line, out of order, just down
our Colonies stood together, all
united by grievances, they were
strained and tired of the King’s beck and call
defied gravity, remained standing
now each with their own flags flown so tall
united by government that serves
the people first, not royalty’s doll
at least that’s how it was intended
* * *
This Nonce of Carl’s (17 lines, 10 syllables each) is a response to a recent Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Light/tunnel/and all that...”:
THE STUFF OF DREAMS
—Caschwa
the most beautiful poem in the world—
really had you going there, didn’t I?
because this draft is still searching for that
light/ tunnel/ and all that, the rest is fake
but let’s stay on that very thin thread of
hope, dope, lope, rope, cope, nope, magical soap
“my dog ate my homework” doesn’t work here
we lie down to tell the truth, transparent
not a plus for folks who won’t embrace the
LGBTQ whole line of thinking
soon we usher in the 47th
White House squatter-in-Chief, our top exec
whose mindset is like a medieval king
I, personally don’t mind treating him
like someone dead and buried more than a
thousand years ago, spit on his grave stone
bring my dog to water what’s left of him
* * *
And here is a closing Triolet (with variations) from Claire Baker, a response to our current Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Midwinter Moonlight”:
—Caschwa
the most beautiful poem in the world—
really had you going there, didn’t I?
because this draft is still searching for that
light/ tunnel/ and all that, the rest is fake
but let’s stay on that very thin thread of
hope, dope, lope, rope, cope, nope, magical soap
“my dog ate my homework” doesn’t work here
we lie down to tell the truth, transparent
not a plus for folks who won’t embrace the
LGBTQ whole line of thinking
soon we usher in the 47th
White House squatter-in-Chief, our top exec
whose mindset is like a medieval king
I, personally don’t mind treating him
like someone dead and buried more than a
thousand years ago, spit on his grave stone
bring my dog to water what’s left of him
* * *
And here is a closing Triolet (with variations) from Claire Baker, a response to our current Tuesday Seed of the Week, “Midwinter Moonlight”:
SNOWY LANDSCAPE
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
A gull is now so slowly winging
across midwinter’s full white moon,
it’s silhouetted. Snow is clinging.
An inland gull is warmly winging,
unaware its flight is bringing
my pen to move, and not too soon.
A gull is drawn to slowly winging
across midwinter’s full white moon.
____________________
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!
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!
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
•••AND/OR watch for snipnets from news, print journals, social media as sources to be put together into a Found poem, new piece of art:
•••Found Poem: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/found-poetry-converting-or-stealing-the-words-of-others AND/OR poets.org/glossary/found-poem
•••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 “Midwinter Moonlight”.
____________________
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
•••Elegy: https://poets.org/glossary/elegy
•••Found Poem: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/found-poetry-converting-or-stealing-the-words-of-others AND/OR poets.org/glossary/found-poem
•••Haiku: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/haiku-or-hokku AND/OR www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/haiku/haiku.html
•••Kimo: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/kimo-poetic-form AND/OR poetscollective.org/poetryforms/kimo
•••Nonce: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/nonce-forms-what-they-are-and-how-to-write-them
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html AND/OR https://poets.org/glossary/pantou
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
•••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
•••Kimo: www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/kimo-poetic-form AND/OR poetscollective.org/poetryforms/kimo
•••Nonce: https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/nonce-forms-what-they-are-and-how-to-write-them
•••Pantoum: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/pantoum.html AND/OR https://poets.org/glossary/pantou
•••Triolet: www.writersdigest.com/personal-updates/triolet-an-easy-way-to-write-8-lines-of-poetry
•••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
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 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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
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.
Poets’ bios appear on their first MK visit.
To find previous posts, type the name
of the poet (or poem) into the little
beige box at the top left-hand side
of this column. See also
Medusa’s Rapsheet at the bottom
of the blue column on the right
side of this column to find
any date you want.
Miss a post?
You can find our most recent ones by
scrolling down under this daily one.
Or there's an "Older Posts" button
at the bottom of this column.
(Please excuse typos in older posts!
Blogspot has been through a lot of
incarnations in 20 years!)
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!
