Category Archives: Digital Art & Photos

innocence ghosting – Manic Mondays

Innocence Ghosting

innocence ghosting

we skipped the crown
humming
flew away
it was later
that her face
turned pale
she said,
 there is no truth
let her be sixteen
eyes open
might just as well’ve
be closed
her face ghostly pale
and so it was

~kat

A Black Out Poem for Manic Monday Three-Way Prompt inspired by the word “Ghostly”, the photo above and the song below with black out.

Whiter Shade Of Pale

We skipped the light fandango
Turned cartwheels ‘cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick
But the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder
As the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drink
The waiter brought a tray

And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale

She said,There is no reason’
And the truth is plain to see
But I wandered through my playing cards
And would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might have just as well’ve been closed

And so it was that later
As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale

And so it was that later

Songwriters: Gary Brooker / Keith Reid / Matthew Fisher
A Whiter Shade of Pale lyrics © T.R.O. Inc.

 


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 July 2018

I love this week’s ReVerse! I had set for myself a daunting challenge: to write a trio of terza rima stanzas exploring things that slip between the cracks, which of course, they don’t really do, because the cracks

ARE the in between abysses where we lose things. Cracks between the cracks, as it were. That is to say nothing is truly lost to us if we are paying attention.

And pay attention I did this week, to the ‘nth degree. Rather than being exhausting, it was inspiring. A prime for the old pump. I even managed to tackle all my favorite challenges this week, save my own “word of the day” musings. To be honest, the words of the day have been at best, meh, lately, so I’ve given it a rest. This week’s word was punnet, a small container or basket for strawberries or other fruit. Um, so ok. Now you know. Not much more to say about that. 😉

But back to today’s ReVerse! Did I happen to mention how pleased I am with it? Of all the words I wrote this week, these lines are some of my favorites. They play nicely together, don’t you think? Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could all do a reverse and together, get along? Yes, wouldn’t that be lovely.

Have a great week. There are only three more days of Terza Romas to explore…hmmmm, three. Hold that thought. See you on the flip!


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 July 2018

remembering when that tree was still green
in the beginning…us, I remember
with you, I would go
no one will remember your words
a swift swing of a bat rendered them headless.
there’s still life left in what some throw away
for these days pennies don’t amount to much
slow turns the screw ‘til truth cannot exist
lounging in streams of sunlit bliss
which makes me wonder
precious treasures overlooked, throngs unfazed,
fair-haired ladies in waiting,
in these trying times
“How much farther?”
“Is that a thing?
between, in darkened cracks where stuff falls through
forever, when they’re botched.
i never wanted to
i live for the sweet
the sun shining too bright
blue, red crush, misting

~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.


Slipping Between the Cracks – Terza Rima 4-Seven (finit)

midst long dead leaves, audacious life abounds
gold button blooms, fat drops of shimmering dew,
songbird trills, whisp’ring breezes, morning sounds

things that slip to pale and out of view
when we’re distracted by things, overlooked
between, in darkened cracks where stuff falls through

oh, every day’s a chapter in a book
filled with the tragic, balanced by sublime
when i forget, it begs a closer look

“between the cracks”…a silly paradigm
that makes no sense, a symbol of the times

~kat

This week’s Terza Rima has turned into an epic quest beset by detours and distractions on the way to finding things forgotten, or having “slipped between the cracks”. But what does that oddly worded idiom really mean? Shouldn’t it read “between the slats” or something to that affect? There really is nothing between the cracks unless we take the phrase literally, and in that case it places those things that fall between them squarely on a solid surface in plain sight. Perhaps that’s the point of this silly, confused phrase. The stuff we’re looking for is always right in front of our face just waiting to be discovered.

If you care to relive each day’s offering, it’s posted below. My, my but I’m a big bag of wind! Ha! Peace out!


Slipping Between the Cracks

-One
old house abandoned, now wasting away
empty and dark with its doors shuttered tight
the old woman died, who once lived here, they say

no record exists of her obscure life
she lived in this house, built, 1918
the tree died too, when they turned out the lights

remembering when that tree was still green
smiles we exchanged; never knowing her name
gone with the mist now, forever unseen

-Two
where has the time gone in our little game
passion has fizzled, we pass in the hall
jump starts fall short, nothing’s the same

battered by life, our love’s weathered it all
the fire’s faded, it’s true, to embers
such comfort, ‘twill do ‘til the reaper calls

given the choice i choose love that’s tender
but how my heart thrilled once, hearing your voice
in the beginning, us…i remember

-Three
tossed to the curb, piles of junk, a few toys
nothing of value, or so someone thinks
a find for scavengers; cause to rejoice

they’ll save some collectible gems from the brink
clean them up nice; upload them to eBay…
mind what you pitch with that old kitchen sink

one man’s trash is a treasure, they say,
to those discerning, who know a thing’s worth
there’s still life left in what some throw away

-Four
while on my morning walk, a looming curse
a faceless copper penny caught my eye
pick it up and certain doom I might unearth

best to leave it there and walk on by
or better yet give it a happy turn
to pass good fortune on to the next guy

a single penny gained is thought absurd
for these days pennies don’t amount to much
even my two cents worth goes unheard

-Five
an ambush of lies, tall tales and such
sets gas lights aflame sowing questions and doubt
verity spiraling, fools out of touch

puppets on strings dance with lengthening snouts
while dark secrets spin behind closed door trysts
those who are woke try to figure it out

there is a legion of tools who insist
up is down, east is west, wrong, is all right
slow turns the screw ‘til truth cannot exist

-Six
a can of niggling worms looms as I write
I’m obsessed, unable to ignore
the innocents who’ve drifted from our sight

fractured families, children not cared for
species, numbers dwindling, resources razed
slipping between cracks; lost forevermore

precious treasures overlooked, throngs unfazed,
our better angels quickly losing ground,
their god is greed, they lavish him with praise

-Seven
midst long dead leaves, audacious life abounds
gold button blooms, fat drops of shimmering dew,
songbird trills, whisp’ring breezes, morning sounds

things that slip to pale and out of view
when we’re distracted by things, overlooked
between, in darkened cracks where stuff falls through

oh, every day’s a chapter in a book
filled with the tragic, balanced by sublime
when i forget, it begs a closer look

“between the cracks”…a silly paradigm
that makes no sense, a symbol of the times

~kat


Brain Cleanse – A Haiku

in these trying times
immerse in things beautiful…
zen for gray matter

~kat

Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge Prompt Words: brain (gray matter) & cleanse (immerse).


Palatial Field

queen anne tended by
fair-haired ladies in waiting,
bright, black-eyed susans

~kat

Haiku Horizons Prompt Word: Eye