Monthly Archives: July 2018

Manic Mondays – Silence

mmsilence

silence

darkness, softly creeping
left the still remains of
restless dreams ‘neath
the halo of a cold neon
light that split the people

people talking
without listening
no one dared
disturb the fools

you know silence
grows like raindrops
echoed in wells

the neon god flashed
its warning and the
prophets whispered

~kat

Another Manic Monday Challenge, Prompt Word: Silence; Prompt Song: The Sounds of Silence (Performed by Disturbed and written by Paul Simon) and the photo above edited (I grabbed a corner of the entire photo and dropped in my black-out poem based on the lyrics of the song (see below). Thanks to Laura for hosting. Join the challenge yourself by clicking HERE.


The Sound of Silence

Disturbed

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

Fools, said I, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Songwriter: Paul Simon

The Sound of Silence lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

 

 

 


Terza Rima #1-b – Heat Wave

no squirrels scampering; too hot to toil
in sweltering shaded hollows, creatures keep
nighttime’s a blessing, cool, but sleep is spoiled

~kat

Installment 2 of Heat Wave for this month’s Terza Rima Daily Poem Challenge, one tercet at a time.


Terza Rima #1-a – Heat Wave


no cool breezes today to temper the heat
waves rising from pavement, hot, smelling of oil
with hints of green, wilting, birds fluttering, tweet

~kat

This month we’re doing a Terza Rima stanza a day for our poem a day challenge. A Terza Rima is a three-line stanza using chain rhyme in the pattern a-b-a, b-c-b, c-d-c, d-e-d. There is no limit to the number of lines, but poems or sections of poems written in terza rima end with either a single line or couplet repeating the rhyme of the middle line of the final tercet. The two possible endings for the example above are d-e-d, e or d-e-d, e-e. Some descriptions suggest a syllable count of 11 per line in an iambic meter. I’m going to try that. Thanks to Jane Dougherty for her encouragement to write a short poem a day!


Foundling – a Six Word Story

The foundlings were lost; caged collateral.

~kat

This week Wonderwall posted a Six Word Story Challenge,Prompt Word: Foundling.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 1 July 2018

I’ve stopped saying, “things can’t get any worse,” because invariably they do, and did again this week. (I won’t bore you with the details. You know.) It means, of course, that we haven’t hit rock bottom. Not yet. And that’s a sobering, terrifying thought. The world has gone mad. It feels like we’re all passengers on a runaway train heading for a wall and there is nothing we can do to stop it. It makes me wonder if things really have to get worse before they get better, or if the night really is darkest before the dawn. Stupid platitudes…

Sometimes I think, “I’m in no hurry for the dawn. I’m perfectly fine pulling the covers up to my neck, and sleeping through that dark dawn phase. Wake me up when it’s over,” as they say. It’s no fun pulling an all nighter sober. And waking up to meet the dawn is a scary prospect. Who knows what the hell we will find when the consequences of our lunacy are revealed in the light of day.

And yet…I know you were waiting for that “and yet”. Well, I got nothing this week. There is no “and yet” this week in retrospect to tide us over until it’s over.

All I can offer you in the midst of this chaos is a hint into how I’m managing with a plug for living in the moment and remembering to breathe. Both are important elements of survival. It’s all we have; a fragile lifeline holding us while everything crumbles into oblivion around us.

I can tell you I had moments this past week. A smile from a stranger, lemon merengue pie, a glimpse of the full moon in all her glory, getting to know our new puppy, fireflies, today’s ReVerse. That’s how I do it folks. I suspect that’s how we all manage to get through each day. And that other thing? Breathing? Be sure you take a moment to give breathing your all. Close your eyes and just do it. You won’t regret it. The dawn will wait for you to exhale.

Peace y’all. Peace.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 1 July 2018

crystalline stillness,
everything I can’t remember
not scheduled
how bitter the blow
daylight slips away
Death coming to call
ground a muddy mess
bird on cable line
a pittance for lauds
with a few lyrics yet to write
from sleepless tides of lunacy
the wind feeds not our bellies but our souls
who will keep them safe
sometimes we must reach,
justice cannot come
from atop his lush throne
in the beginning
dew diamonds misting
garden, honey drunk,
still, they danced
never fading…

~kat

A ReVerse poem is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.