Monthly Archives: April 2020

the best medicine – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 18

Busy day today. Just a wee bit late to the party. True story: We laughed so hard today. Gosh it felt good. There hasn’t been much to laugh about these days, but oh, how I needed it!

The Best Medicine

I had forgotten
how healing laughter could be.
That sweet rush of endorphins,
it is ecstasy,
the joy of letting go completely.

~kat


NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 18: write an ode to life’s small pleasures.


With a focus on the ordinary (as in ordinary, everyday people, places, or things) I created a new form I called the Horatiodet. See what I did there? It’s a portmanteau that combines the words Horacian+Ode+et. A Horatiodet is a total of 5 lines, syllable count: 5-7-7-5-9 / rhyme scheme: ababb. In other words, it is a short Horacian Ode (only one stanza), a form based on the style of Horace, Quintus Horatius Flaccus (December 8, 65 BC – November 27, 8 BC), the leading Roman lyric poet during the time of Augustus.


I’ll Get Back to You – NaPoWriMo/GoPoWriMo Challenge, Day 17

I’ll Get Back to You

if I don’t answer
your tweet, text, IM, or zoom
I’ll get back yo you

My perky, well-rehearsed, 7-takes to perfect, scripted voicemail message will cue up, giving you the illusion that I am not here; but, the truth, and we both know it, is that I am most definitely here, distancing myself from the world, from you, from eye to eye, flying-spit conversations, brushes with warm infection-riddled flesh, the scent of soap, putrid perfume, mouthwash and body odor stinging my nose. We have been practicing social distancing for a while now, but I am not very good at it, no not at all.

I remember when telephones had party lines, rotary dial disks that softly clicked, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, after each spin, one familiar ringtone and strobing busy signals; a time when no answer always meant someone wasn’t home, probably out shopping or working, living life. We had lives then. There was a certain comfort in that certainty, except…

“The coroner said she had been dead, from natural causes, for weeks, no one knew, no one but the cat…”

Still, we felt no urgency to connect; we’d just try again later. We were close in our isolation. We had rocking chair front porches, neighbors with first names, easy routines, Friday nights at the Dairy Queen, church on Sunday mornings. It was enough, until it wasn’t. Voicemail machines crept into our quiet lives, pagers hung from our belts and we mobilized.

These days we are never truly away, living life, doing, being. We are wired, on call, day and night, accessible to each other, robo-callers, spammers, phishers, work, and lost souls with wrong numbers, where not answering our phone is a willful act. No, I don’t want to talk to you right here, right now. Yes, it’s personal. I need a break. I’m busy doing something; it doesn’t matter what, anything. It could be anything or nothing at all. But here’s the rub, the grim reality of techno-enlightenment…I feel guilty, cellphone on mute, rumbling, rattling off the table, when I don’t pick it up immediately to say hello.

if I don’t answer
not trying to be distant
well, maybe I am

~kat

For today’s NaPoWriMo/GoPoWriMo Challenge, Day 17: “Move backwards in time away from modern contrivances as podcasts. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that features forgotten technology.”


The Greatest in the History of All Things Great, Greatness – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 16

The Greatest in the History of All Things Great, Greatness

We had the most beautiful piece of cake!
Everyone tells me it’s so, believe me,
except for fake news, they’re the enemy,
phony, the worst, agents of the deep state.

I always win bigly, losers I hate.
Mistakes? I don’t make them, never, not me.
We had the most beautiful piece of cake!
Everyone tells me it’s so, believe me.

I promise to make America great.
It’s going to be tremendous, you’ll see.
I alone, stable genius…covfefe…
loved by Vlad Putin, Kim Jong Il, and Xi.
We had the most beautiful piece of cake!

~kat


For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 16: write a poem of over-the-top compliments. Pick a person, place, or thing you love, and praise it in the most effusive way you can. Go for broke with metaphors, similes, and more.

Well, I had a bit…oh hell, I had a tremendous, stupendous time poking political fun today. I know of no other politician who is more well versed in over-the-top, extravagantly, effusive self-adulation and duplicity than President 45. I used a Rondel, a French form consisting of 13 lines: two quatrains and a quintet, rhyming as follows: ABba abAB abbaA. The capital letters are the refrains, or repeats. 

 


heaven is silent – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 5

heaven is silent

darkness softly creeping
heaven closed
my restless dreams turn cold
there’s a wall
the night speaking without a sound
a songbird sings,
words echoed in warning,
the piper will change your soul…
the prophets whispered in silence,
we all want to buy heaven

~kat


A Blackout poem for NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 15: write a poem inspired by your favorite kind of music. I chose two favorite songs, Jimmy Page / Robert Plant’s “Stairway to Heaven” and Paul Simon’s “The Sounds of Silence”. As an extra challenge to myself. I alternated lines from the found words in each song to create the poem above.


Found words are highlighted in bold below:

The Sounds of Silence

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


Stairway to Heaven

There’s a lady who’s sure
All that glitters is gold
And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven
When she gets there she knows
If the stores are all closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Oh oh oh oh and she’s buying a stairway to Heaven
There’s a sign on the wall
But she wants to be sure
‘Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings
In a tree by the brook
There’s a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiving
Ooh, it makes me wonder
Ooh, it makes me wonder
There’s a feeling I get
When I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen
Rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who standing looking
Ooh, it makes me wonder
Ooh, it really makes me wonder
And it’s whispered that soon, If we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn
For those who stand long
And the forests will echo with laughter
If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow
Don’t be alarmed now
It’s just a spring clean for the May queen
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But in the long run
There’s still time to change the road you’re on
And it makes me wonder
Your head is humming and it won’t go
In case you don’t know
The piper’s calling you to join him
Dear lady, can you hear the wind blow?
And did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind?
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our soul
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll
And she’s buying a stairway to Heaven

Songwriters: Jimmy Page / Robert Plant


who else but the muse? – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 14

who else but the muse?

she peeks at me through tree limb slits,
lunation’s phases streaming; she speaks to me
in bubbling babble, peeper’s croak and avian
warbles and trills; she whispers in the wind, and in
stillness, barely breezing; she warms me on sun-splashed
shade-less afternoons, at night from crackling hearths,
in bubble baths, the glow of jasmine tea sating my thirst
to the core, and nips my nose and toes on frost-iced
mornings, crisp air stinging my cheeks; she infuriates
me, exasperates me, moves me to passion, to hilarity,
to tears, everywhere, she is there nudging me, filling
my head with beautiful words, so many words, I am never
at a loss for them, but dare not call myself a poet, though
I try to dribble out a coherent verse or three, especially
in those moments where I find myself utterly speechless

~kat


For NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 14: write a poem that deals with the poems, poets, and other people who inspired you to write poems. I am inspired by everything, big and small, human, animal, vegetable, mineral. There are of course people in my life who inspire me…too many to name, so they shall remain nameless, though some of them know who they are. To simplify my adoration for these inspirational motivators that surround me, I tend to lump them all together into one…my Muse, I call them…her. I could not imagine my life without her.

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