Category Archives: Essays

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 17 June 2018

I realized that I started two of my magnetic poems this week with the phrase “there is no sanctuary”. It was completely accidental, or perhaps it was subliminal. I think it was most likely the latter. I have felt helpless against the recent atrocities perpetrated by my government on innocent people in my name as an American, and now most egregiously in the name of God as well. We are learning more and more about the Trump/Sessions'”Zero Tolerance” agenda for those crossing our southern borders; the horrors experienced by families seeking asylum in the U.S.; children being ripped from their parents’ arms and shipped to holding facilities, some even lost in the system. A system that uses intimidation and fear to dissuade people from coming here. And now we have a president who is using these innocent children as ransom for his ludicrous border wall.

To be honest, I don’t know what to do. I made a contribution to a legal defense group who is working to reunify families at our southern border. I’ve contacted my senators and congressman. I’ve voiced my concern in poetry, and by linking to help organizations on social media. But I still feel helpless.

And the thing that disturbs me the most is the continued complicity, even support for this president and his ilk from so-called christians who put these monsters in office in the first place. How can they still support an agenda that serves the rich with massive tax cuts that most of us will never see; an agenda that is intent on destroying health care for all, most especially the poor, the sick (in the repeal of pre-existing conditions coverage), and the elderly; an agenda that would like nothing more than to cut off all “entitlement programs” to pay for the massive tax breaks bestowed upon the rich; an agenda that has no respect for the care of our environment, seeing only profit in selling off our precious natural resources to the highest bidder; an agenda that cares more about supporting the gun lobby and its small base of gun enthusiasts, than for the children and others who die from gun violence in increasingly alarming numbers; an agenda that disrespects our international allies while schmoozing with dictators and terrorists…sadly, I could go on, but I won’t. It is too, too much.

But I also refuse to be silent anymore. Fair warning to you Trumpsters. Don’t tell me “all” politicians lie, don’t tell me Hilary would’ve been worse (she lost, we’ve gotten over it…it’s time for you to get over it too), don’t tell me Obama was the worst president in history; dont tell me the Russia investigation is a sham and a witch hunt (20 indictments does not a baseless witch hunt make); don’t tell me christians are being persecuted and that you need laws to protect your rights; don’t tell me it’s good that we are now putting America first. That is not who we are. It has never been who we are. And please for the love of all that is right and good and true, stop using your god to justify your hate, misogyny, prejudice, racism, and privilege. While I may have tempered my angst and outcry the past few years to play nice with you…I’m over it. Stop your whining and suggestion that I should give Trump a chance. I am declaring a “no tolerance” policy on your bullshit. Your actions have put evil in charge and your ignorance and complicity keep them there. It’s time for you to own it.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 17 June 2018

in simplicity
never ending rain
nightmares fading to dust
there is no sanctuary
eyes deep as pools
greet the dawn,
power feeds on souls
yet we save for eulogies,
midst a tyrant’s oppression
burdens we carry
to be livable
we have lost our souls
when god was love
heavy with tears

~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.


Twittering Tales #88 – 12 June 2018

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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.

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!

And REMEMBER…you have 280 characters (spaces and punctuation included), to tell your tale…and a week to do it. I can’t wait to see what you create this week.


Twittering Tales #87 – The Roundup

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Photo by jplenio at Pixabay.com

Starting us off…

The Whistleblower
Charlie regretted joining the agency. At first the climate experiments were exciting, but they had taken it too far. He locked his office, drove past the security gate, pulling off the road to call the authorities. A super storm was brewing. He hoped it was not too late.
273 Characters

From Martin at Martin Cororan:
I Hades when he does that…
‘Found you!’
‘God this game’s rubbish…and rigged! I’m the perpetually anger Lord of the Underworld, surrounded at all times by a fiery cloud, and you can change form at will.’
‘Nevertheless, it’s my turn to hide.’

From Fandango at This, That, and the Other:
Eruption
“I know it’s beautiful and breathtaking,” the ranger said, “but your family needs to evacuate this area. It’s just too dangerous. These things are unpredictable and if this eruption continues, the molten lava could reach this area quickly. Volcanoes are not to be trifled with.”
(278 characters)

From Reena at ReInventions:
Priority
“I’ve often wondered what the core of a volcano looks like. How does it feel to be carrying flames of angst for centuries?”
I guess it is too late, as the tongues are out to swallow us.”
“What could have instigated it?”
Writers and philosophers cannot save their own life….” Sigh

From Piyali at The ‘Write’ Stuff:
Rage
Staring calmly at the still waters, she took a deep agonizing breath. A storm was slowly brewing inside her. “It’s time to unleash what you’ve been suppressing for so long!” whispered her heart. Somewhere on the horizon, a cluster of clouds roared in a fiery rage.
265 characters

From Teresa at The Haunted Wordsmith:
They Came
We heard tales of their arrival from Northern survivors. We didn’t believe. Who would? As survivors began coming from closer cities, we became scared. We fled. I turned to take the last image of our great city as they destroyed it. Furious, there was no food left for them.
273 characters

From Team Wellness at World of Wellness:
Heaven!!
He further inquired, God – Can you show me heaven??
He felt himself floating, detached from his physical body, and this is where he stood, mesmerized by what he saw and felt.
He heard some voices too, whispering softly…Honey…Honey…Wake up!!
Charactcter Count – 250

From Francine at Woman Walks Dog:
Vision
Mr Lucifer here for your annual eye test  look at the letters on the screen read them to me
T  H  E     E  N  D    O  F
Goodness Mr Lucifer ! Now look at the circle on the screen   do you see more green or red ? That’s unusual,  no circle  just a flaming red  turbulent sky ? Lets look at the letters again
T  H  E       W   O  R  L  D     I  S      N  I  G  H

From Michael at Morpethroad:
The universe was displeased.
It burped, spitting out some time.
A year to prove the earth was worth something.
There was conflict, rubbish said some, hurry said others before its too late.
The universe watched and rumbled once more.
Sucked in a breath, said you’ve 364 days left.
(274 characters)

From Jane at Jane Dougherty Writes:
Narcissus
The god of the apocalypse bent down, intrigued by the fiery reflection in the still lake water. His beard brushed the mirror with a hiss, and the lake water dolphin-leapt joyfully, quenching the fire in the sky. Nature smiled.
“It’s not your time yet.”
250 Characters

From Hayley at The Story Files:
Storm Sea
The sky looked angry as the storm rolled in. I watched the clouds from my fishing boat and decided to return to the harbour. The choppy sea and pouring rain slowed me down but I made it back as the first rumble of thunder echoed.
I hurried from my boat on to the wooden dock and tied her up. Looking back, I saw a fork of lighting striking the top of a large wave. Flickers of electric current rode the water, zinging their way to shore. I got out of there, dashing for the shelter of home.

From Clara at Fragments of Fiction:
An Ending
In the end, there was only a flooded planet and dying star.
“It was good,” the sun sank towards the sea, her former inferno reduced to a flame in the clouds.
“Perfect,” the sea rose to meet her. She was doused and the sea froze.
Across the universe: a spark, a droplet, a beginning.
(280 characters)

From Willow at WillowDot21:
More Trouble in Hell
The devil was angry! Who had opened the skylight and let junior loose with a storm. How many times did he have to repeat himself before it finally sank in. You could not let a demon under a millennium loose with a storm.
Now Nasargiel would have to be told. Oh! no thought Satan.
(279 Characters)

From Lorraine and Lorraine’s Frilly Freudian Slip:
Dr. Crescendo’s Mind Camera
Dr. Crescendo’s mind camera captured Celesta’s final thoughts.
Brain zaps of lightening, roiling clouds and calm expanse of silent water.
“Always a cypher, that one. Wonder what she meant,” he wondered.
Her ascending spirit whispered, “Thoughts of you, my dear doctor, of you.”
(276)

From Jan at Strange Goings on in the Shed:
Dyspeptic Rumblings
The Omniscient, Omnipresent and Occasionally Tetchy Cosmos was having digestive problems. The dinner party wasn’t going well due to terrible food. Star systems had vanished in the wake of dyspeptic ructions. Now, a fireball was nicely brewing, precipitating an apocalypse. Damn!
(279 characters)

From Debbie at Twenty Four:
He was silent as he stood on the rocks watching the storm which brewed on the horizon.
He really would have to tell her to watch her temper … at this rate it would rain for forty days and forty nights.
With a sigh he went to find his daughter.
(243 characters)

From Kirst at Kirst Writes:
Haunted Coast Part VI
I’d ordered a supermarket delivery, to be left at the kitchen door. No sign of it. My stomach growled at the sight of empty cupboards. The village pub, I thought, served food. I locked the door, set off on the coast path under a flood of stormy sunset. Should be there by dark.
(277  characters)
(Read previous Parts beginning here: Haunted Coast: Twittering Tales #81 and work forward)

From The Dark Netizen:
TWILIGHT
She stood with her back against the red clouds, pure elegance.
He stared in amazement, ready to proclaim his feelings to her at the romantic waterfront. It was perfect. A little too perfect.
The meteors hidden in the clouds would end their moment, turning their kind extinct.
Character Count : 273

From Indhu at Always:
Sweet Dreams
He stood on the stage beaming with pride to have received the “Best Photographer Award” for his perfect click. He began his well-prepared succinct speech and there was a loud noise. BANG!
He woke up from his sleep.
“Best capture of the end of the world”, he laughed at the irony!
<277 characters>

From Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
The Winner – with apologies to those of a nervous disposition
I warned him, I really did!
He should have foreseen the consequences.
He insisted it was all just innocent fun, and the competition was the talk of the town. He was sure to win.
I thought so too, because he sure passed a lot of gas.
He really shouldn’t have tried to light it though!
(279 characters)

From Patty at Namaste…a late entry for Twittering Tale #86 (open window shade):
Inside Out
You used to be inside of that shabby sheik white curtain, in bed, with me, dreaming our wake dreams, eyes shut tight opening ourselves to each other. Yet, there you go, walking by, as I turn from the window, toward the wall, where I can pretend you’re not a familiar stranger.

Thank you everyone for your thought-provoking and timely tales this week. There were several hellish references, volcanic eruptions, rage…the stuff of nightmares and apocalyptic forboding…and really bad weather and really bad, well…you know! haha!  I was away this past week. Thank you for your patience. I may not have responded to you as quickly, but I read each one, as I always do. I am always blown away by everyone’s creativity.

This week, I’m inviting you to dream. You may want to write the story of this  particular dreamcatcher by Free-Photos at Pixabay…how it came to be…or its own story of the dreams and nightmares that it has caught over the years…or just use it as inspiration to launch you into a creating your own dreamscape. Where do our dreams come from? Do they really tell us what our subconscious is thinking? Dream a little dream with me…;) And remember, you have only 280 characters to tell your tale. It’s a challenge, I know, but to help, see the link above for Character Count Online. You can type and tweak your tale right in the text box on this site. I’ll see you next week at the roundup. Sweet Dreams! 🙂


Twittering Tales #88 – 12 June 2018 – Dreamcatcher

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Photo by Free-Photos at Pixabay

“Put it near your bed,” she told me. After months of nightmares I was willing to try anything.

For the first time I slept peacefully. Was it the dreamcatcher? I wondered. As I watched it sway in the breeze, I saw something drifting from its feathers. My nightmares fading to dust.

(279 Characters)

~kat


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 10 June 2018

I am in re-entry mode having been on vacation this past week. With no internet access and only a bar or two on my phone, I did my best to stay connected…to write a few lines every day. But there was something about being away for a few days…unplugged from my usual routine. It took me several days to finally breathe it all in. It was lovely while it lasted.

But the news of the world seeped in all the same. There were the untimely deaths of two celebrities, the escalating news of the inhumane treatment by our government, on refugee children at our southern border, and the increased isolationist tactics of our president from our greatest allies. As you can see, I didn’t completely unplug.

Being a mother, the stories of young children being ripped from their parents arms and held in scary warehouses affected me deeply, but it was the news of recent suicides that gripped my heart.

I know suicide. My father died staring down the barrel of a pistol, his own finger on the trigger, 38 years ago. 38 years. My mother abused opioids and herself into oblivion…a slower death, but suicide nonetheless. And I have entertained this monster myself on several occasions. Love for my children and a sense of responsibility for them was the only thing that saved me. Even now I rely on antidepressants and therapy to keep me afloat. Suicide is no respecter of persons; not impressed by smiles and projected stoicism in the face of adversity, of life’s ups, and bottom of the barrel, downs. It’s a greedy master requiring everything, for nothing in return.

Why am I talking about it? Because we all need to call it by its name. Suicide. It needs to be okay to say it…to ask for help. Ignoring suicide doesn’t make it go away. Keeping it locked away just emboldens and empowers it. I have faced this beast and declared, “no more!” Not because I am particularly strong. I’m not. By grace and through the power of love I have l survived.

My hope is that we begin to open our hearts to those who are other; to be safe places for our brothers and sisters…to begin the process of bridging our differences, to find healing. May we learn to listen to each other. May we be kinder to one another, as if our very lives depended on it. Because, the truth is, they do.

Peace my friends. Don’t be afraid to seek help if you need it. More than anything, please know you are not alone.

US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 10 June 2018

night falls intensely
tree knob, eyes blinking
beneath deep green cover
a super storm was brewing
dusk softly shaded,
kissed by a breeze
when it’s silent
invisible pain
feels like rain
how can we be quiet?

~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.


Daily Lune #8

invisible pain
suicide
claims another life

~kat

RIP Anthony Bourdain, Kate Spade, and the thousands of people who die every year at their own hand…including my own father in 1980. Here in the US the rate of suicide has risen 30% in the last decade making it the 10th leading cause of death of people between the ages of 10 and 75. The reasons are myriad, but there is help. If you or someone you know needs help, here’s a number you can call. You’re not alone.

US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 3 June 2018

Happy Sunday. I’m on vacation this week, on “holiday” as some of you call it. I haven’t vacationed in years, using my allotted paid vacation days taking care of my partner post-back surgery, or my daughter post-c-section after the birth of my youngest granddaughter. I hardly know how to act or what to do with myself, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out just it in time for my re-entry back to work.

I like this week’s ReVerse. It’s an easy read…the perfect way to start my week of leisure. I’ll post at least once daily, but I have limited WiFi here. That’s a good thing I believe, forcing me to unplug.

Have a lovely week then. For now, I have an appointment with the screened-in porch with a view of the lake and a cool breeze! ❤️

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 3 June 2018

the sunlight’s soft, muted, no shadows to swoon
scent of blossoms, earthy musk
…a sweet time
in a dusting of dirt…
ironic, how greatness has become our undoing
you know I’ve always dreamed of it
rollicking mirth
nudging closer, closer
i am persuaded
liberated souls gather
flush of the morning
rooted deep, prevailing,
a thousand diamonds
outside my window
find me there

~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.


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