Author Archives: Kat Myrman

Twittering Tales #137 – 21 May 2019

Twittering Tales

About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a photo prompt. Your mission, if you choose to accept the challenge, is to tell a story in 280 characters or less. When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. This is important as I have noticed that some of the ping backs have not been working. If you would prefer to post your tale in the comments (some people have very specific blog themes but still want to participate), I am happy to post a link to your site when I post your tale in the Round Up.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing a new prompt. And if for some reason I missed your entry in the Roundup, as I have occasionally done, please let me know. I want to be sure to include your tale.

Finally, have fun!


Before we get into last week’s roundup, I found out that the ping back gremlins lost Graham’s post for TT #135 (the impending storm photo). Here it is. Thanks for letting me know Graham. 🙂

By Graham at Graham is Just My Name:
“It’s really down to a question of being in the right place at the right time. I often spend hours, even days, waiting for the ideal conditions.”
Final photograph of John Jones (7.5.1956 – 10.4.2018)
(198 characters)


Twittering Tales #136 -The Roundup

nrd-1002460-unsplash

Photo by NRD at Unsplash

Starting us off…
House Guests
They got a great deal! The house was close to schools and work, fenced in yard. It was perfect.When they asked the real estate agent about the low price, she told them some wild ghost story. They didn’t believe in ghosts.
But that changed. It’s been empty since that first night. ~kat
280 Characters


Monday with the Muse

the strangeness of aging

after all these decades
maybe the pain that
tightens my body is
peculiarly perfect …

past memories
on yellow bones
getting small, hidden
away deep in my
body would’ve
driven me insane

~kat


A Blackout Poem inspired by the poem below:

Red with a Touch of Sulfur
by Zubair Ahmed

Isn’t it funny
when suddenly after all these decades
you notice a new part of your body.

Maybe the hamstrings—
entirely unused when lifting weights,
back used instead
which then pains for years.

Maybe the slight shoulder raise
that tightens those muscles
maybe for good.

I notice my body
slide through time.
It is odd and peculiar(ly)
genius of no one,
a perfect clock
making clocks
look simple.

Newness comes naturally.
Resisting it causes the past
to present memories on yellow
platters.

My age is a number.
Bones getting ready to play poker.
I will remain a small book
hidden away deep
in the library.

I love my body and this world!
Such a declaration
five years ago
would’ve driven me insane.

But now an appreciation arrives
with a fine taste of sulfur
and anywhere I look is born
a rose.


May Day 20

how
swiftly
the days pass,
gone forever
but for brief flickers of remembering

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


May Day 19

twinkle…twinkle

stars
are for
wishing on
but even more,
stars reveal our capacity for hope

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

I’m ranting today…if you’d rather not read it, jump below to this week’s reVerse. Peace!

You say impeachment like it’s a bad thing. Oh I jest…not! This past week was rough for anyone who is paying attention, and I admit, I pay far too much attention to what’s happening in the world. I can’t help it. I am a child of the radical 50’s-60’s-70’s. Being an activist and a participant is burned into my soul…like the bras I burned back in the day. But I digress.

It is no longer a mystery what the grand old party (aka, Trump’s party, formerly known as the Republican party) thinks of most of us. To be clear I’m speaking about the GOP, as in anyone who is not white, male, straight, rich, born in the US of A, unless of course your parents were here illegally when you were born, or you happened to be a true native who was here before the white scourge. They despise us.

They despise the children they continue to rip from parents at our borders with no plan to reunite them, they despise sick children whose parents have the audacity to expect healthcare for pre-existing conditions so that their children might have the chance to live, they despise the children that they force to be born, gloating, “you’re on your own now”, once they’re here, they despise school children who dare to come between them and their right to hoard arsenals of their beloved guns. It’s no secret that they also despise people of color, people of faith who are not bible-thumping, evangelical, so-called christian conservatives; they despise the outcast, the refugee and the prisoner, the sick and the needy. Don’t be fooled by their smug “family value”, pro-life drivel. They don’t care about any of that or us. They only care about the votes their lies get them from fools who believe them, thus keeping them in power.

Oh, and this week, they made it clear that they hate women. Unless of course they want to get their rocks off, engage in a little consensual rape (because no means maybe) or have a little fun, a little innocent assault, because boys will be boys, you know. Keep the viagra cheap and flowing like skittles, but not birth control for women. No make that expensive, inaccessible and for god’s sake don’t let insurance cover it, or pregnancy for that matter and make the women pay more for that insurance if they want to have a family…it’s only fair. Men don’t get pregnant. Appoint misogynist predators to the bench, elect them to high office, to the presidency even. And when nasty, uppity women dare to act like individuals, dare to expect the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, make life a living hell for them. Remind them of their place. Remind them that as long as men are in power, they own them. Because women, according to them, are only objects of lust, hysterical, and weak. They need to be managed and punished severely when they get out of line.

It is head spinning to see how swiftly patriarchy is making its last stand. It’s ugly. It’s terrifying. I am outraged that more of us are not outraged. But like climate change (oh they hate the planet too, which is obvious in the way they rape earth’s resources for gain), we will reach a point of no return if we don’t stand up to this evil and stop them. Complicity and ignorance are not options. Impeachment you say? That is the very least that we should do. Our democracy, all that we hold dear, hangs in the balance. Yes, it’s that bad. I took a break from the madness yesterday. We should all do that, to recharge before getting back to it. But get back to it we must. If not for us, then for our children and our children’s children.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 May 2019

petals bursting in brief, fragrant splendor
but for the leaves whispering in the breeze
it was perfect
deny their humanity at the gates
for tender hearts, anger oft’ turns inward
fated by the whim of a breeze
I won’t tell you why
patriarchy
is a lie
yep…it’s that kind of day
when Love rains like
like angel kisses on my face

~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.