Author Archives: Kat Myrman

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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not guilty – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 13

last cookie

guilty, not sorry
somebody had to do it…
eat the last cookie

~kat


And it was delicious! A haiku for today’s NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 13: write a non-apology for the things you’ve stolen.

 


the oracle speaks – NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 12

the oracle speaks

the tea leaves in your cup have much to say
one last sip and the oracle appears
so have a look, don’t toss them straight away
the tea leaves in your cup have much to say
the answers that you seek in damp display
will suddenly become magically clear
the tea leaves in your cup have much to say
one last sip and the oracle appears

~kat


For today’s NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Challenge Day 12, a Triolet is a poetic form consisting of only 8 lines. Within a Triolet, the 1st, 4th, and 7th lines repeat, and the 2nd and 8th lines do as well. The rhyme scheme is simple: ABaAabAB, capital letters representing the repeated lines.

Make writing a Triolet more challenging! Make each line 8 syllables in length (4 metrical feet), written in iambic tetrameter (the more common way), or try it in pentameter (English version) where each line only has 10 syllables (5 metrical feet)


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 April 2020

Coronavirus, sheltering in, social distancing. It’s hard to think about, write about, talk about anything else these days. But for the first time in my recollection, the world is united in its battle to contain the virus. I cannot remember a time when we shared a common adversary like this. Sure, there are issues that should unite us globally like climate change, poverty and hunger, world peace. Depending on our leadership, countries pick and choose their cause célèbre in posturing and political gamesmanship, but the virus is no respecter of geography, rank or status. We are all vulnerable; we are all affected.

We’re living in a “new normal” they say. I’m not entirely sure we will ever return to what we all considered normal normal. But that is okay with me, because here in the U.S. we have been devolving into an increasingly polarized nation where social distancing has become a way of life, each of us retreating behind the walled fortresses of our respective tribes. If there can be a silver lining in a pandemic it is perhaps this. We are all rallying now behind the heroes in this battle. The healthcare workers, the grocery store clerks, the delivery drivers, the restaurants who continue to feed us, take out or delivery, the first responders, the teachers who are finding new ways to engage our kids, the warehouse and factory workers who keep us supplied with essential needs. Heroes are the people who get things done and keep things going. And it matters not our politics nor our religious persuasion, nor our station, when we hear about another soul stricken, most of us pause, our hearts pricked in common sadness and for those that do, we say a prayer for those fighting for their lives and those downed in battle. We have said it before, we are more alike than we are different. These days we’re getting a hard lesson in that fact. And it’s caused us to be a more compassionate, kinder people. But for grace, because of it, we are all in this together. We need each other now, more than ever.

So do I want the old normal back? Uh, that would be a no, as long as we are able to maintain the bittersweet side effects that a global tragedy like this leaves behind. It gives me hope for us. I have always known we had it in us. It’s a beautiful thing to see!

But before I go, let me tell you about the photograph above. I took it through my window last night in the wee hours. The moon was muted behind light clouds, its beams streaming through the tall trees. It was so bright that it woke me up. When I took a closer look at the photo, “she” emerged, with a bright heart guiding her in the darkness. There’s a huge dark heart below her, but one barely notices it. The light averts our attention upward.

In the Christian tradition I grew up in, Easter was a big deal. The passion of the previous days leading up to a triumphant Easter morn. Of particular interest to me as I’ve grown older and a little wiser is the role that Mary Magdalene played. The face in my early morning photograph reminds me of her. Surrounded by darkness, consumed by love, I imagine her journeying to the tomb that darkest of mornings. She had no idea that dawn would emerge, a miracle. Still she pressed on. We don’t know how this is all going to end, but one thing I do know, thanks to my night visitor, no matter how dark it may be, love will guide us from the darkness to the dawn.

Stay safe, stay well, and stay kind. If the fates are willing, I’ll see you next week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 April 2020

they all learned they were kindred then
psychotic, frenzied,
as (they) paused for a prayer
an invisible foe looming
trees bend with the wind
whistling
the greatest cure for all is love that’s deep

~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.