holding my tongue

A few too many overcast days of rain, 
and succumbing to the lure of 24 hour 
cable news feeds, and this is what you 
get from my troubled mind…but 
i’m thinking there are some who 
may relate…so here it is…


holding my tongue

if i felt safe to speak my mind
i might insist you face the truth
i’d educate your easily 
impressionable head
but oh, i shrink in silence, 
hold my tongue instead
for fear you’ll leave me all alone
like times before, banished 
from those i hold most dear, for 
thinking differently, for saying it 
out loud, it’s clear, we live 
dishonestly, under this cloud, 
a dreadful place you’ve put me in, 
i acquiesce, my greatest sin, 
deny my heart, my soul, my voice, 
it is a choice made time and again, 
i can’t remember when, or if 
i’ve ever felt that i was truly free
but oh, you’ve got me where
you want, and i’m ashamed to say
that that’s on me…what if, 
oh what the hell, what if i let it out 
and said what needed saying most, 
threw caution to the wind, giving not
a second thought to what i’d suffer
in the end, they say that ignorance
is bliss, and sadly all your bliss
is giving you away, please help me 
understand the why’s, the how’s and what’s 
of where you’re coming from and where you stand
why do you choose to follow 
bold faced lies, how do you sleep at night
while innocents, the least among us cry
for justice, happiness, for liberty
when every charlatan that you
sustain releases hate, injustice, pain
to “make this bloody nation great again” but
at what cost…for who…i’m asking you
what will you do when evil creeps beyond 
your gate, devouring all things in its 
wake, the lust for power is never
sated, one day they will come for you…
this looming danger can’t be understated...
winning at the ballot box is not 
worth losing everything that’s true,
selling your soul, you know is much 
too high a cost, but most of all 
it makes me sad that after all the years
we’ve lived and loved, my mentioning 
these things will fall on shuttered ears, 
honesty be damned, this much 
i have learned, i truly hate to say, 
when i step out of line, you go away
and so i’ll leave these words on
pages just to clear them from my
head..maybe they will matter, 
make a difference even, to you, 
when you find them, when i’m dead

~kat

comes the rain…a reading

comes the rain…

how odd it feels
this dark drear night
as sheets of rain
and milky fog
obscure my sight
while puddles swell
earth waterlogged
from outer bands
that sweep the sky
a monster with a single eye,
a tempest wielding misery
over a thousand miles,
its bitter tears from
too warm seas brings
half a nation to its knees
odd, i think, to taste the rain
that's caused such pain
to neighbors i will never meet
terribly connected, we,
and yet so far,
so very far away

~kat


A reading of last night’s poem. Thank you, Peter, for always coaxing me out of my comfort zone. Peace, healing and restoration to all who have tasted Hurricane Ian’s fury…❤️

a shadorma for autumn

blustery
billows cool and damp
ride the wind
frost the dawn
like a whisper summer fades
autumn blushes rouge

~kat

A Shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) is a fun short form. NO metering, no rhyming…just count syllables.


comes the rain…





comes the rain…


how odd it feels
this dark drear night
as sheets of rain
and milky fog
obscure my sight
while puddles swell
earth waterlogged
from outer bands
that sweep the sky
a monster with a single eye,
a tempest wielding misery
over a thousand miles,
its bitter tears from
too warm seas brings
half a nation to its knees
odd, i think, to taste the rain
that's caused such pain
to neighbors i will never meet
terribly connected, we,
and yet so far, so very far away


~kat
This poem was birthed in the foothills of Bramlette Mountain at dusk on the 30th of September 2022 as the outer bands of Hurricane Ian bent the pines and drenched the loam while simultaneously making landfall several states away on the South Carolina coast. We humans truly are a wrinkle, a mere blip on the vast landscape of this earth. Who are we to boast of anything at all when a raindrop can render us small?

autumn dawning

autumn dawning

there’s a nip in the air
cricket-song muted
and the random trill
of winter birds breaks
the din, “i am still here”,
they seem to say,
my senses come to life
this time of year, not
in springtime, nor summer,
certainly not in sleepy winter,
but autumn, when sunlight
through the trees bends
into shades of gold,
chartreuse and amber,
warm on my full face
my skin tingling cool,
when the loam prepares
her nest to welcome home
leaves set free on the wind,
when the calendar meanders
slowly toward year’s end
urging me to loose my own
burdens for a brief spell,
survival, loss, longing,
to embrace moments of joy,
peace, contentment, love,
to breathe…
to bake bread for breaking
to make soup for sharing,
to don sweaters and socks,
to tuck my feet into
the crook of an oversized
chair, while sipping tea with
honey as the days grow shorter,
and the gloaming blooms vibrant
streams of crimson, “i am still
here”, i muse, “i am still here”

~kat

%d bloggers like this: