—Poetry and Photos by Taylor Graham,
Placerville, CA
—And then scroll down for
Form Fiddler’s Friday, with poetry by
Nolcha Fox, Lynn White, Stephen Kingsnorth,
Joe Nolan, Sarah Mahina Calvello, and
Caschwa
HOMING THE HOMELESS DOG
On the first day there were pats
and gentle words inside comforting walls.
On the 2nd day, the same doors opened,
closed, opened again to receive her within
the same walls. She drags a leash
as proof of connection. On the 3rd day,
“no teeth on skin” to pause the impulse
of possession. The peace of human hands.
A windfall of prickly rubber balls.
She gathers them all, and a stick meant
for the fire. Scraps of bark beside the bed
and, under the table, tooth marks
on a fabricated bone.
This is how she makes herself home.
On the first day there were pats
and gentle words inside comforting walls.
On the 2nd day, the same doors opened,
closed, opened again to receive her within
the same walls. She drags a leash
as proof of connection. On the 3rd day,
“no teeth on skin” to pause the impulse
of possession. The peace of human hands.
A windfall of prickly rubber balls.
She gathers them all, and a stick meant
for the fire. Scraps of bark beside the bed
and, under the table, tooth marks
on a fabricated bone.
This is how she makes herself home.
DOING THE MATH
On the fourth morning
of a new dog, the old & the new
play sweet puppy-rough with each
other while I try to do my early stretches
which somehow become part of their
dog wrestling-dance. And then
they lie down to nap—one on each side
of me at my lap-
top. And now simultaneously
they wake again, each needing a pat,
left hand & right hand—
the reason I have only two dogs—
and here comes the cat.
On the fourth morning
of a new dog, the old & the new
play sweet puppy-rough with each
other while I try to do my early stretches
which somehow become part of their
dog wrestling-dance. And then
they lie down to nap—one on each side
of me at my lap-
top. And now simultaneously
they wake again, each needing a pat,
left hand & right hand—
the reason I have only two dogs—
and here comes the cat.
SHELBY IN THE LEAD
This is our first walk on the trail. Alert
she is to every fascinating scent
along the way—woods giving off the scent
of autumn coming—and her nose alert
to squirrel—alert to wild hunger’s scent.
This is our first walk on the trail. Alert
she is to every fascinating scent
along the way—woods giving off the scent
of autumn coming—and her nose alert
to squirrel—alert to wild hunger’s scent.
MEMORIAL TO UNNAMED CAT
Off the main dirt path,
here’s a game trail up and over
dredger piles, slippery climbs
and down-falls, to a slight clearing
under live oak—
a mound of river rock
with a poem etched in black metal
silhouette of a cat, its tail raised
high, forepaw lifted like
a scout exploring for life beyond
this unknown unnamed place.
Off the main dirt path,
here’s a game trail up and over
dredger piles, slippery climbs
and down-falls, to a slight clearing
under live oak—
a mound of river rock
with a poem etched in black metal
silhouette of a cat, its tail raised
high, forepaw lifted like
a scout exploring for life beyond
this unknown unnamed place.
EXASPERATING?
The birds must have had a feast.
Nearly all the plump ripe blackberries
are gone from their bramble along
the trail. I felt my way gingerly
past the picked-clean clusters, into
the thorny midst. No luck,
just scratches. So much for wanting
the sweet taste of a late summer
walk. Not that it matters —
can’t blame the birds for loving
blackberries.
The birds must have had a feast.
Nearly all the plump ripe blackberries
are gone from their bramble along
the trail. I felt my way gingerly
past the picked-clean clusters, into
the thorny midst. No luck,
just scratches. So much for wanting
the sweet taste of a late summer
walk. Not that it matters —
can’t blame the birds for loving
blackberries.
WE CAN BELIEVE THE SUN
I try to follow the morning’s news in dark
hours before dawn—a government’s sudden
chameleon turnabouts; surveys showing nothing
has changed. The screen becomes a sonogram
of trouble. Commentators pick each detail apart
to its molecules, placing them on a slide
for more dissection and debate. Exasperating.
And then the sun climbs over a ridge,
reflecting on what’s left
of a pond waiting for frogs
to bring back song.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SEPT 5
—Taylor Graham
a leaf
waits to
drift
o wind
breathe
aloft
I wait
for time
to fly
___________________
Welcome Shelby! Otis Graham has a new pal, adopted this week by him and Taylor Graham! TG has written eloquently about them both, as always, and many thanks to her for that and for her fine photos.
Forms TG has used this week include two Word-Can Poems that are also Response Poems to our Tuesday Seed of the Week, Exasperation (“Exasperating?” and “We Can Believe the Sun”); a Bina (“Shelby in the Lead”), and an Atom (“Sept 5”). The Bina and the Atom were two of last week’s Triple-F Challenges.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, Poetry in Motion meets in Placerville on Monday, 10:30am; then Moira Mageneson will read in Cameron Park on Thursday at 5:30pm. And for info about EDC’s regular workshops, scroll down to Medusa’s Kitchen’s 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!
I try to follow the morning’s news in dark
hours before dawn—a government’s sudden
chameleon turnabouts; surveys showing nothing
has changed. The screen becomes a sonogram
of trouble. Commentators pick each detail apart
to its molecules, placing them on a slide
for more dissection and debate. Exasperating.
And then the sun climbs over a ridge,
reflecting on what’s left
of a pond waiting for frogs
to bring back song.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SEPT 5
—Taylor Graham
a leaf
waits to
drift
o wind
breathe
aloft
I wait
for time
to fly
___________________
Welcome Shelby! Otis Graham has a new pal, adopted this week by him and Taylor Graham! TG has written eloquently about them both, as always, and many thanks to her for that and for her fine photos.
Forms TG has used this week include two Word-Can Poems that are also Response Poems to our Tuesday Seed of the Week, Exasperation (“Exasperating?” and “We Can Believe the Sun”); a Bina (“Shelby in the Lead”), and an Atom (“Sept 5”). The Bina and the Atom were two of last week’s Triple-F Challenges.
In El Dorado County poetry this week, Poetry in Motion meets in Placerville on Monday, 10:30am; then Moira Mageneson will read in Cameron Park on Thursday at 5:30pm. And for info about EDC’s regular workshops, scroll down to Medusa’s Kitchen’s 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!
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, Lynn White, Stephen Kingsnorth, and Joe Nolan:
HELP WANTED
—Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
My vim has lost its vigor,
and my body moves too slow.
I have no energy to push
my weight around today.
My garden is an ideal spot
for growing crops of weeds.
The grass is taller than the trees.
Now, that’s an awful thing.
I used to think that getting help
showed I was good for nothing.
But who needs pride? I hire help
to keep my life in order.
I won’t need a money pot
when I am six feet under.
* * *
FIZZING
—Lynn White, Blaenau Ffestiniog, North Wales
Sometimes
I dream of those childhood days
When the sun shone everyday
and lemonade was kitchen-made
from lemons
and sugar
and tap water,
refreshment without fizz
scooped from a bowl
not poured from a plastic bottle
filled with gas and tightly sealed
filled with artificial flavours
to bring a hint of lemon
to the sweet fizz.
Oh yes,
take me back
to those lemonade days
of my childhood
don\t wake me
from my dream.
* * *
THE GREEN, GREEN GRASS OF HOME
—Stephen Kingsnorth, Coedpoeth, Wrexham, Wales
Indulgent smile, house pinny wife—
blade-runner mode tells us the age—
if found today an emptied jug
of home-made, or more-water-squash
would wake the sleeper to his task,
the lawn, those rows of cutting marked.
The weighty matter in her gift,
home-cooking how she earns his keep,
her outlet evidencing skill,
accepted recipe as grew—
my sister’s ‘housecraft’ timetabled,
wood, metalwork in spoons, scoops, whisks.
This comic take would be mistake
if published with these signs today;
small sympathy for man portrayed,
while scorn for womanhood betrayed—
domestic violence yet veiled,
for no one’s business but his own.
Or this from company I keep,
my family reacting to
the Ulster Presbyterian,
where ladies knew male ownership,
an agent Orange stranglehold,
so justified for scriptures’ sake.
My mother paid a char to clean,
but really bought the company;
two hours of gossip, half to dust,
a contract satisfying both—
the poor and lonely, binary,
those bannisters their talking shop.
So was grass greener, other side?
Perhaps his dreams of putting green,
old comrades from another course,
where D-Day saw mates, hole in one,
met girls in conflict, typing pool,
not French Resistance heroines.
* * *
LUCKY MAN
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
Poor me!
A fat, old man
Worn out from a day
Of pushing mower,
Sleeping in my lawn-chair,
Legs outstretched,
Shoes removed,
My sleeping cat
Beneath my knees,
But my wife’s
An absolute delight,
Ready with a loving smile
And lemonade.
How did this fat, old man
Get so lucky
As to have an angel in his life
Before going to Heaven?
* * *
Today we have a big load of Haiku; here are some from Sarah Mahina Cabello of San Francisco:
Replanting trees
Part of me stays here
Tomorrow’s solace
~ ~ ~
Part of me stays here
Tomorrow’s solace
~ ~ ~
Two souls
Tumbling into each other
Wild and wayward
~ ~ ~
Stumbling On
Sharp edge of a music note
Under neon skies
~ ~ ~
Canopy of trees
Hint of eternity
Stumbling to rooftops
~ ~ ~
Stay here
A while
Under rolling clouds
~ ~ ~
Window sunset
Intricate movements
Orange and pink clouds
~ ~ ~
One more step
Apple ribbons unfurling
Motion of sunsets
~ ~ ~
When you’re gone
Apple ribbons unfurl
Motion of sunset
~ ~ ~
Frida’s
Misspent marigolds
Scars we can’t see
~ ~ ~
Keening birds
Warm camomile grass
Don’t tread on my dreams
* * *
Caschwa (Carl Schwartz) has written a Dodoistu after reading about the form on yesterday’s post from Nolcha Fox:
My happy place went out of
business, so now I have to
find a new happy place, one
that I can afford
—Caschwa
* * *
And here are some Haiku from Caschwa:
business, so now I have to
find a new happy place, one
that I can afford
—Caschwa
* * *
And here are some Haiku from Caschwa:
COVER UP
—Caschwa
—Caschwa
Where bathing suit is
optional, my next option
would be a wet suit
~ ~ ~
SWORN TESTIMONY
—Caschwa
Did you ever drive
an old Volkswagon, Beetle?
Yes I did, cockroach
~ ~ ~
BABY RATTLES
—Caschwa
Do mama snakes give
their offspring tender hisses
of encouragement?
~ ~ ~
POLKA DOTS
—Caschwa
Must keep several
on hand to put on those big,
lovely polka eyes
* * *
Finally, here is something that Caschwa says is “just silly”:
WORDS OF FEELING
—Caschwa
Some folks incline to be romantic
beer lovers easy prey for Germantic
others, on edge, get postmantic
lickers and sniffers, of course: Dobermantic
—Caschwa
Some folks incline to be romantic
beer lovers easy prey for Germantic
others, on edge, get postmantic
lickers and sniffers, of course: Dobermantic
__________________
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!
•••Book Spine Poem: law.marquette.edu/facultyblog/2020/04/national-poetry-month-create-book-spine-poetry
•••AND/OR a Borrow-&-Give-Back:
•••Borrow-&-Give-Back: Take someone else's poem, write it out then remove even-numbered lines and write your own in their place; then remove odd-numbered lines and write your own.
•••AND/OR a regular old Found Poem:
•••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 Seed of the Week! This week it’s “Poets Lie”.
____________________
MEDUSA’S FORM FINDER: Links to poetry terms mentioned today:
•••Atom: https://poetscollectivepoetryforms.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/atom-2
•••Bina: https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/bina
•••Book Spine Poem: law.marquette.edu/facultyblog/2020/04/national-poetry-month-create-book-spine-poetry
•••Borrow-&-Give-Back: Take someone else's poem, write it out then remove even-numbered lines and write your own in their place; then remove odd-numbered lines and write your own.
•••Dodoitsu: www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/dodoitsu-poetic-forms
•••Ekphrastic Poem: notesofoak.com/discover-literature/ekphrastic-poetry
•••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
•••Response Poem: creativetalentsunleashed.com/2015/11/18/writing-tip-response-poems
•••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.)
* * *
—Artwork Courtesy of Public Domain
A reminder that
Micah Bournes & Jazmarie LaTour
will be reading in Stockton tonight
with others, 7pm.
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.
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!
Micah Bournes & Jazmarie LaTour
will be reading in Stockton tonight
with others, 7pm.
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.
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!
