
we are the
essence of longing,
fragile hearts,
trembling,
for hints that we are worthy
of love’s ecstasy
~kat

we are the
essence of longing,
fragile hearts,
trembling,
for hints that we are worthy
of love’s ecstasy
~kat

…to a spork
it’s a portmanteau
with breakable, too short tines,
and plastic bowl, too shallow
spoon and fork combined
good for neither, needs a redesign
~kat
Can you tell I’m not a fan of these clumsy hybrid utensils. I’d rather eat with my fingers than fight with one of these things! I should note that there have been a number of redesigns since it first came on the scene in the late 19th century. They all look rather odd, and equally useless. Though some have been given longer tines (apparently I’m not the only one bothered by that design flaw!) which does, I suppose improve the fork function. But…what’s wrong with toting a spoon and a fork if that’s what you need? It’s not like they take up a lot of space. Just a thought. 😉🤣

hard road
early morning when
the rooster crows
keep going,
don’t slow down,
troubles fill the wind
it’s a hard road
got to keep livin’
when the wind
cuts hard,
it’s a damn
cold day
when the wind
cuts hard
~kat
A blackout (found) poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt: Word: Road/Photo: (above-cropped)/Song: White House Road by Tyler Childers (lyrics with found poem in bold below)
White House Road – Tyler Childers
Early in the morning when the sun does rise
Layin’ in the bed with bloodshot eyes
Late in the evenin’ when the sun sinks low
Well that’s about time my rooster crows
I got women up and down this creek
And they keep me going and my engine clean
Run me ragged but I don’t fret
Cause there ain’t been one slow me down none yet
Get me drinking’ that moonshine
Get me higher than the grocery bill
Take my troubles to the highwall
Throw’em in the river and get your fill
We been sniffing that cocaine
Ain’t nothin’ better when the wind cuts cold
Lord it’s a mighty hard livin’
But a damn good feelin’ to run these roads
I got people try to tell me, Red
Keep this livin’ and you’ll wind updead
Cast your troubles on the Lord of Lord’s
Or wind up laying on a coal room floor
But I got buddies up White House Road
And they keep me strutting when my feet hang low
Rotgut whiskey gonna ease my pain
‘N all this runnin’s gonna keep me sane
Get me drinking’ that moonshine
Get me higher than the grocery bill
Take my troubles to the highwall
Throw’em in the river and get your fill
We been sniffing that cocaine
Ain’t nothin’ better when
the wind cuts cold
Lord it’s a mighty hard
livin’
But a damn good feelin’ to run these roads
It’s a damn good feelin’ to run these roads
When they lay me in the cold
hard clay
Won’t ya sing them hymns while the banjo plays
You can tell them ladies that they ought not frown
Cause there ain’t been nothing ever held me down
Lawmen, women or a shallow grave
Same ol’ bluesjust
a different day
Get me drinking’ that moonshine
Get me higher than the grocery bill
Take my troubles to the highwall
Throw’em in the river and get your fill
We been sniffing that cocaine
Ain’t nothin’ better when
the wind cuts cold
Lord it’s a mighty hard
livin’
But a damn good feelin’ to run these roads
It’s a damn good feelin’ to run these roads
It’s a damn good feelin’ to run these roads

cursed clock
i hate you
but i need you so,
without you,
i’d be lost
in my dreams, never waking
snoozing…sleep…dreamless
~kat
For Sunday’s Writing Prompt: Ordinary Things. Write a story (I wrote a shadorma poem) where an ordinary, everyday object plays a significant role.

…to the rain
dark clouds brimming, burst
a cascade of droplets flow
sating a world that thirsts
sweetened breezes blow
tender shoots break ground in afterglow
~kat