The Stafford Challenge, Days Four and Five

Yesterday and today, I wrote poems that respond to Grant Wood's lithograph, Honorary Degree (1938). I wasn't crazy about yesterday's poem so I gave it another try today. Grant Wood, Honorary Degree (1938) Here is yesterday's poem, a tanka, more commentary than ekphrasis: After “Honorary Degree” (1938) Grant Wood would have loved how Robert Frost had a quilt sewn of the hoods from his honorary degrees. What a rainbow of colors! —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] And here is today's poem, a true ekphrastic poem. Honorary Degree Three men in robes of velvet and satin, beneath an American Gothic high window, play out an age-old tableau: awarding an academic prize to a person of great note. It’s rather like the Wizard of Oz bestowing a medal on the Scarecrow for his smarts. The man on the left is handing a diploma to the one in the center, a rotund man who, most agree, looks like Grant Wood himself. The man on the right is beginning to drape a velveteen hood over Grant, which mirrors the shape of the window, itself an echo of his most famous painting. This lithograph seems clearly a send-up of the whole honorary degree custom. Wood’s avatar, placed right in the middle, has the mischievous look of a farmboy who’d rather be on a riverbank fishing. A brown trout would be a better catch than that diploma or that fancy hood. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. To comment, look for a red line below that starts Posted by, then click once on the word comments in that line. If you don’t find the word “comments” in that line, then look for a blue link below that says Post a comment and click it once. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

 

My Rhysling-Eligible Poems

It's Rhysling time again! The Rhysling Award is the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association's annual award for the best speculative poems published in the previous year (science fiction, fantasy, and horror). The members of the SFPA nominate poems between January 1 and February 15 each year. I have two 2024 poems eligible for the award. The first is "Time Lord Thief" published in Altered Reality Magazine in June 2024. You can view the original publication here. Time Lord Thief —terza rima haiku sonnets 1. I’ve had an interest in rayguns since I was five, when I saw my first. Father shot a live bird dead, right between the eyes. A needle hole gave the lone hint of why the bird had died. I was hooked. Not long after, I began to collect rayguns, from the famous and infamous. Intrigued by how anyone could end a life so quick, on command. 2. I tried to visit many warriors and spacemen’s chronotopes — planets and ships — for a chance to steal their weapons. Phasers hijacked from Captains Kirk, Picard. Blasters from Han Solo, Chewbacca. And Marvin of Mars — his trusty Acme pistol. Paralyzer gun made by Doc Zarkov for Flash Gordon (once Tarzan). My TARDIS filled with rayguns. 3. Friends, my life has stood — a loaded raygun, fully charged and ready, good for battle, truly primed. On Earth I’m like Loki the Trickster, wooly, wild, ghostlike, smoky. I drift like the breeze; you won’t see me, way low key. That’s how I’ve purloined these celebrity rayguns, magicked and siphoned in mystical elegance. I’m gone. And so’s your raygun. This poem is in a poetic form I invented back in the '70s: the terza rima haiku sonnet. The first four stanzas are 5-7-5 haiku (in shape, not in essence) followed by a 7-7 couplet (so the lines add up to 14, the typical sonnet length). Each sonnet section is also rhymed in terza rima, the interlocked rhyme format Dante used. We have three numbered sections here, with each in that sonnet form. My second Rhysling-eligible poem is "Space Pilot," which appeared in Mag Pie magazine, Spring 2024. This poem is a triolet. Space Pilot ʻOumuamua is the first known interstellar object detected passing through the Solar System [in] 2017. (Wikipedia) Though I am, technically, already dead, The ship wakes me when we are near something. It electroshocks my body, reboots my head, Though I am, technically, already dead. The ship has repaired my body for nine hundred Years with parts from machines meant for signaling. Though I am, technically, already dead, The ship wakes me when we are near something. Both of these poems also appeared later in the year in my new book, Dragons & Rayguns. Click here if you would like to order a copy. Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

The Stafford Challenge, Day Three

Today I post the third of my poems in The Stafford Challenge. This project encourages poets around the world to write a poem every day for a year, inspired by the wonderful poet William Stafford who wrote a poem every day throughout his career. My third Stafford Challenge poem is also a sonnet (like the last two days), but to be more specific, a hay(na)ku sonnet. The hay(na)ku is a word-counting poem: one word in line 1, two words in line 2, and three words in line 3. This poetic form was invented by the poet Eileen Tabios in 2003. Since that time, other variants have surfaced such as the reverse hay(na)ku: 3-2-1. My variant, the hay(na)ku sonnet, is made up 4 hay(na)ku stanzas, followed by a couplet made up of a squished hay(na)ku (3 words per line) in order to end up with 14 lines, the typical length of a sonnet. I didn't rhyme my first hay(na)ku sonnets, but then the poet Bruce Niedt figured out that one could rhyme the ending words of each hay(na)ku stanza as well as the endings of the couplet lines. Bruce's typical rhyme scheme was xxa xxa xxb xxb cc. In today's poem, I've alternated the rhymes at the ends of the opening hay(na)ku, so abab instead of aabb. My topic today is music. I'm the bass player of the band Deja Blue. I've played bass for about 40 years and played guitar for over 60 years. I was inspired to write a music poem today by the poet Bethany Lee who posted recently in the Stafford Challenge facebook page that she is a musician and would be writing some music-related poems this year in the challenge. Thanks for the inspiration, Bethany! Playing Bass Fingers dancing on stainless steel strings fashion a skeleton for each song: armature, inner framework, outer contrabass wings, something underlying everything, right or wrong. Yup, everyone follows the bleeping bass. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Photo by Renee Lukehart Wilkie Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

The Stafford Challenge, Day Two

Okay, here's my second installment in The Stafford Challenge. As I said yesterday, this is a commitment to write a poem every day for a year, inspired by the wonderful poet William Stafford (1914-1993) Stafford was the U.S. Consultant in Poetry in 1970; this Consultant position is now known as the U.S. Poet Laureate. My second Stafford Challenge poem is again an ekphrastic curtal sonnet (like yesterday), this time after the Grant Wood mural Breaking the Prairie Sod. This is a large WPA mural at Iowa State University, designed and executed by Wood with other artists. You can see this image below the poem. Love and Tradition After Breaking the Prairie Sod by Grant Wood et al. (1937) Hans stands, relaxed, behind the orange plow, hoisting the water jug up to his lips, cool liquid sluicing, lovely, down his throat. Mary, poised nearby, living out her vow of standing by Hans with this sweet drink, grips his hat, loving this man as his helpmeet. The plowhorses wait patiently, traces hanging to the ground. The closest one flips his head at us, curious what we’re about. The land spreads behind, beautiful spaces                                             we now inhabit. —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.] Breaking the Prairie Sod by Grant Wood et al. (1937) Iowa State University Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ

The Stafford Challenge, Day One

I've joined a new poem-a-day project: The Stafford Challenge. This is a commitment to write a poem every day for a year, starting on 17 January. Dedicated to the memory of the late, great poet William Stafford. Here's my first Stafford Challenge poem, an ekphrastic curtal sonnet: Interstellar Whale Wings After Organic Dreams Synthetic Means by Benjamin Ball and Gaston Nogues (2018) Green translucent fiberglass rods protrude from a sheer wall, shaping a giant whale’s head breaching sideways, the ocean’s surface on its side, waves lapping gently while skewed. The rods form two dragonfly wings as well, cupped together like twin hands holding close a treasure of clear air, soft zephyr winds held in place, invisible crystal ball. Part whale, part dragonfly, she searches space for intelligent life. On Earth she finds                                   none. Then off she goes! —Draft by Vince Gotera    [Do not copy or quote . . . thanks.]   Organic Dreams Synthetic Means by Benjamin Ball and Gaston Nogues (2018) Iowa State University Friends, won’t you comment, please? Love to know what you’re thinking. Thanks! Ingat, everyone.  ヅ