Morning News

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

 

 

BEDLAM

Morning news is chaos. Riot gear, tear gas,
flash-bangs, soldiers in cities, tanks
in the Capitol. Who is it
disturbing the peace? Everyone’s on edge.
I’ll take to fields and pond instead—
white swans, egret, wild turkey hens with chicks;
in willow and tule, red-wing’s sweetest song.
What’s this? Sign at trailhead:
Law Enforcement Training Exercise
In Progress.
Even here, far from big city bedlam. Edgy?
I’ll fade into edges, camo myself
in wildwood.

 

 

 

WITH A VENGEANCE

Weed-eating used to be my morning meditation,
a connection with the land. But this year,
it’s gone crazy. Annual weeds are tougher.
Thistle keeps expanding its territory; coming back,
no matter how I whack it down to bare sticks
of stubble. It’s taken over field and creek, crevices
in boulders on the hill. Spring’s sweet clover
gives off a choking stench as it turns to dark dust
under my machine. Even in dying, vetch
remains a fastener, weaving all the weed species
together, clogging my trimmer-head. This job
has never been a cinch. But through time,
it seems the weeds have been plotting their revenge.

 

 

 

 

RE-RIDING HISTORY


Great horned owl declares the night-news.

From afternoon to midnight the pony’s flown.
 
Can a rider be lost the way a river runs?

GPS gone wayward with the sun’s flare.

Hoofbeats, pings absorbed in full moon’s orb.

Owl in tangle of trees holds the night’s catch.

The mountain rising toward tomorrow.

By hint of dawn, the pony runs for daybreak.

___________________

ELDRITCH SPELL

The 4:30 owl I heard clear
as daylight thru my night-screens
open to the dark, the chill—

that owl was neither dark
nor light, invisible out of sight,
its call nothing I could note

in black letters on white paper
or my laptop’s illuminated page,
echoing long after dawn. 

 

 

 

 

NO KINGS DAY
    6/14/25

Already there’s a crowd on the overpass—
strangers yet compatriots
bearing flags and homemade signs;
I with my little cardboard “No Kings”
at the far end, looking down
on freeway traffic speeding west.
Blonde lady raises her sign:
“Only You Can Prevent Fascist Liars.”
A honking car-ful of kids thumbs-up,
while an old guy in primer-colored pickup
guns it, spewing exhaust.
I aim my sign at cars on the overpass,
cars on off-ramp, down on the freeway—
aim it in all directions, make it count.
New sign: “Hey MAGA: Go Fact Yourself.”
Now a monster black pickup sends
black smoke in our faces
and a sign: “What the World Needs Now
Is Love Sweet Love.”
Truck with Trump flag waving in its bed.
Keep feet planted, smile on face,
how to do justice to a tank parade
from this side of a nation’s distances.

 

 

 

 

AFTER THE LAST DAY

Here
outside
a classroom
in the school trash
bin, I see leavings
from the spring semester:
one lonely sock, an empty
drink cup, and all these stars inscribed
with pupil’s names. Have the youngsters shed
their old stars for stars of a new beyond?

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

IN BRIEF 2.0
—Taylor Graham

Cat
s h a r p e n s
claws

dog
c h e w s
bone

cat
c o n s i d e r s
teeth

_____________________________

Taylor Graham has written about bedlam today on this longest day of the year, chaos in neighborhood politics and weed-eating and all sorts of shapes and sizes. It’s a bedlam-ish time in these here parts—just like everywhere else these days, I guess.

Forms TG has used this week include a Response to the Tuesday Seed of the Week (“Bedlam”); a Word-Can Poem (“With a Vengeance”); a Monostich (“Re-Riding History”); an Ekphrastic poem in response to last week’s Ekphrastic photo (“Eldritch Spell”); a Brevette (“In Brief 2.0”); a List Poem (“No Kings Day”); and an Etheree (“After the Last Day”). The Brevette was one of last week’s Triple-F Challenges.

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 such events and 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

Poets who sent responses to last week’s Ekphrastic photo were Nolcha Fox, Joe Nolan, Lynn White, and Stephen Kingsnorth:


MIDNIGHT DESIRES
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY

Your eyes are streetlights shining,
sending bright through empty windows.
You are hunting hearts
that should have gone to bed.

Your ears pick up the rustling
of the hungry and the haunted.
You arrive to comfort them
and end their misery.

* * *

GREY OWL IN GRAY TREE
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

This owl’s wisdom
Is to wear a gray motif
To blend in well
With gray-bark tree
And look out peacefully
Until its time to eat
Then swoop in silently,
Grab a meal,
Return to perch,
Contentedly.   

* * *

KEEPING WATCH
—Lynn White, Blaenau Ffestiniog, North Wales


What does the owl see
looking out from its branch
with those big black eyes.
What does the owl see
through the wind and rain,
head turning full circle
ready for silent flight
as evening falls.
We can guess
but only the prey will know.

* * *

PANE RETAINED
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales

My cot, set corner, parents’ room,
seeds planted, nighttime, took their root,
those scary, fearsome toddler bouts,
imprinted deep when sleep disturbed.
Caterwauling first heard then,
those London cats in fighting form,
and father at the window frame.
his Webley drawn, tinned pellets armed.

Assumed that he had moggies shot,
not merely shocked by shots in air,
that bedroom was a fabled space
in which the owl too found a place.
For pane ajar, hot city night,
some little, barn took shelter there,
a stance observing postwar life,
behind, his prey, garden below.

Thus first thought when I see an owl
is prompted childhood story told
of Dad, a pacifist, his gun,
protector of his little boy.
Seed memory your toddler brain?
Perhaps deep-buried keeps you sane?
Or maybe recall, too much pain?
So should I dare you not to delve?

These, owl and pussycats you see,
would later serve as pre-sleep reads.
But building on foundation laid,
it was a window still retained.
Perhaps the last on my dry lips
to be that owl on city sill,
familiar, spirit disguised,
from cot to final resting place.

* * *

Moggies?

Here is another Response Poem from Stephen, this one inspired as follows:

"Write a story or poem inspired by an unsent letter discovered in the pocket of a coat at a thrift store. Who wrote it, why was it never sent, and what secrets does it reveal?"


RED
—Stephen Kingsnorth

An overcoat just hanging there,
like spare part wear-rôle cast away;
I bought it, fabric, someone’s past,
not knowing owner passed indeed.
For note to Father scribbled there,
recording what he could not say,
despairing words he could not pray,
explaining why, where, when and why.
His Dad confessed to silenced priest,
but what confessed he dare not say—
that secrecy of box betray,
though cost continued, falling prey.
But now the teen would have his say
by giving broken body up;
that priest should know the wherefore, why,
the post too late to interrupt.
Enveloped, in the overcoat,
and chance, before the post-box site,
he crossed that junction, through the red,
before the trucker saw ahead.
The overcoat alone was spared.


(First published by Spillwords, 7th June 2025, at           
https://spillwords.com/red-by-stephen-kingsnorth/.

 

* * *

And some parting words from Caschwa (Carl Schwartz):

 

 

 

LEAVE IT BE
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA

Hate those Form Shifters
they changed for´mi-da-ble to
be for-mi´da-ble

__________________

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 Staccato; it’s easier to understand from the example:

•••Staccato: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/staccato.html

•••AND/OR in honor of upcoming July 4, jump in with both feet and try a La’libertas:

•••La’libertas: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lalibertas.html

•••AND/OR: I know, these are bears, both of them. How about something funner, like a Joseph’s Star:

•••Joseph’s Star: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/josephsstar.html

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

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

____________________

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

•••Brevette: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/brevette.html
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••Etheree: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/etheree.html
•••Joseph’s Star: www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/josephsstar.html
•••La’libertas: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/lalibertas.html
•••List Poem: clpe.org.uk/poetryline/poeticforms/list-poem
•••Monostich: briefpoems.wordpress.com/2016/01/07/slates-one-line-poems-monostich
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••Staccato: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/staccato.html
•••Tuesday Seed of the Week: a prompt listed in Medusa’s Kitchen every Tuesday; poems may be any shape or size, form or no form. No deadlines; past ones are listed at http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/calliopes-closet.html/. Send results to kathykieth#hotmail.com/.
•••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

 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

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!