too many to count
souls lost to the greed of men
darkness can’t hide them
~kat
For Sonya’ Three Line Tale Challenge based on this photo by gn dim via Unsplash.
Author Archives: Kat Myrman
Oops…’scuse me!
52 Words for Sacha’s 52 Weeks in 52 Words Writespiration Challenge. This week’s challenge was explained in the piece.
So…this week’s prompt is to write about the day you accidentally squeezed someone’s boob!
Can’t say I’ve ever done that sort of thing…accidentally. Squeezing takes a certain amount of premeditated intention. It requires grabbing, then tightening one’s grip.
Accidentally jabbing or bumping? Most certainly. Gently brushing up against one? Ah yes…done that.
~kat
Blame the Muse
“… the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;” —W.B. Yeats
The Scream, 1893 by Edvard Munch
incessant goading fills our heads
to do the dreaded things we fear
passion riles the weakest hosts
and blames the muse
but muses simply plant the seed
it’s passion’s fire that drives men mad
surrendering to wild extremes
renders us razed
yet middling is not the course
that moves faint hearts, nor feeds the soul
embracing darkness, shadow, light
each bearing virtues of their own
our angst assuaged
~kat
For Jane Dougherty’s Yeat’s Challenge Day 2 based on the verse above and using the “new” form suggesting a metered trio of stanzas with the following syllable count: 8 8 8 4 8 8 8 4 8 8 8 8 4 .
Roses
Millicent Collins was an eccentric, surly, old woman. She kept those around her loyal by promising each a pittance of her massive fortune.
When she died they rushed to the estate, hoping to hear their name at the reading of her will.
The attorney droned through the list of bequeaths. To her housekeeper, the china, silver, crystalware; to the butler, the Mercedes; on and on until most everyone had a piece of her.
The reading concluded, “For bringing me roses every day; for his kindness, I, Millicent Collins, leave the house and grounds to my dear gardener, John.”
Millicent loved….roses.
~kat
100 Words for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction Challenge inspired by this photo by © Sarah Ann Hall.
The Narcissist
Day One of Jane Dougherty’s November Yeats Challenge. Today based on these lines:
“they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,
With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold:” —W. B. Yeats
A bit of research revealed that “ger-eagles” in Yeat’s day was a term used to describe vultures. It was also a term decades later attributed to Hitler’s Order of the German Eagle during WWII. The vulture theme certainly applies, which made me think of another type of vulture who preys on the weak in our times. Well, at least in my humble opinion, it seems to fit. History repeats itself.
The Narcissist
only a narcissist
tweets arrogant blurbs with his tiny fat fingers,
only a narcissist
rallies vile throngs, which are Yuge as he insists,
reeking of smut and glut while poverty lingers,
blaming all his ills on witch-hunting left wingers,
only a narcissist
-kat
A Rondolet is a French form consisting of a single septet with two rhymes and one refrain: AbAabbA.The refrain line should be half the number of syllables of the other lines.
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