ode to joy
mist-veiled hints of muted blue
pale light dawning, just out of view
earthen musk mingling
sweet blooms, dew clinging
birds singing
joy breaks through
~kat
The Clogyrnach Poem
This Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme:
Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 2: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 3: 5 syllables with a b rhymeLine 4: 5 syllables with a b rhymLine 5: 3 syllables with a b rhymeLine 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme
endless
how unnatural it feels
this chill in the air
the changing of seasons
winter to spring arrested
held captive for excruciating
seconds, summer in the wing
collecting souls for the keeping
never to be seen again,
transported to the fragrant fields
of summer land, of endless summers
just beyond the veil, while we weep
winter overstaying it’s welcome
night spilling into the dawn
~kat
Just getting this out of my head and onto the page. I don’t like being angry. But that’s my reality right now and I’m guessing I’m not alone. I don’t want to forget how I’m feeling right now. Accepting it, recognizing it, redirecting this anger toward making a change, to once and for all righting the wrongs of our collective apathy and hopelessness is how i choose to move forward, for myself, for the children, for the outcast, the marginalized, the forgotten…for our world. But first, right now, I’m just angry.
enough is enough
your thoughts and prayers
pierce us like daggers
emptying our hearts
of the last drops of grace
for your boastful posturing,
your lies, your meaningless
words that seek
to change the narrative,
holding us hostage while
you wait, wait, wait for us
to forget once again
that you really don’t care
about the slaughtering
of innocents, or for refugees,
or others, not like you,
please save your prayers
to your vengeful god,
a hateful god who doles death
to the weak, who brandishes
weapons of war proudly, a god
in whom no mercy can be found
for the meek, a god that you’ve
created in your own image
who boasts of being pro life
while shattering
the lives of the living
we will not forget
how you led the lambs to slaughter
how you congratulated yourselves,
for protecting the rights of monsters,
there’s a special place in hell for you,
would that I believed in hell
~kat
an almost rain
oh how i love an almost rain
the wind rushed trees, the sky, dark gray
the scent of damp green
it’s all quite a scene
of extremes,
sunlit haze
~kat
Clogyrnach Poems
More on rain, because, well, it’s been particularly soggy here in the foothills this spring. And i’m continuing to practice the Clogyrnach.
This Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme:
Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhyme
Line 2: 8 syllables with an a rhyme
Line 3: 5 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 4: 5 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 5: 3 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme
a little rain might make you think
your dreams are clinging on the brink
raindrops are like tears
those things you hold dear
become clear
when you blink
~kat
In my walk this morning I happened upon this rain battered dandelion…and it made me think. I think it’s safe to say that the Muse is alive and well here in the Bramlett Mountain foothills.
Keeping on form…a Clogyrnach poem seemed a good idea. (is it just me or does the rhyme and meter of the Clogyrnach feel very much like a limerick with the last line split into two? just a thought 😉)
Clogyrnach Poems
This Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme:
Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhyme
Line 2: 8 syllables with an a rhyme
Line 3: 5 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 4: 5 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 5: 3 syllables with a b rhyme
Line 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme
like mercury colliding... 