Category Archives: Essays

Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 11 November 2018

Happy Veteran’s Day. It’s a long way from the 1970’s, but today I’m feeling patriotic. Yep that’s me back in the day. USMC…Semper Fi! And in the words of President Macron this weekend, “Patriotism is the exact opposite of nationalism. Nationalism is a betrayal of patriotism. By saying ‘our interests first’…we erase what a nation holds dearest…its moral values.”


Another week, another mass shooting, an election…contested, a house regained, an attorney general fired, a sycophant hired, press pass seized, threats of retaliation, lies doubled down, fires raging. In other words, a typical week in the alternate world of trump. We learned a few things this past week. Hate is alive and well in these divided states with far too many election results lingering into the night “too close to call”. Insanity reigns as our president spirals into rage. If the last few years were trump in good times (with allies in all three branches of our government), we are in for a wild, terrifying ride from a defensive trump. The house win, he says, out loud, works well into his (evil) political plan to stay in power. He’ll just blame the democrats for everything.

But something also changed this week. There is a flickering check on the imbalance we have suffered these past few years. It’s certain to be ugly. It will most definitely be exhausting. Our divisions are real, laid bare by our party loyalties, and our recent election.

Before we trudge forward, I have one more thing to say…Apologies to Europe…to the world…for trump and his atrocious behavior in Paris, in general. Apologies to our veterans and service members who have given all to this country for a commander in chief who is afraid to get his hair wet. Apologies to the people losing their homes and sadly for some, their lives, while wildfires rage. I’m sorry you are being blamed for this tragedy and threatened by our president who’d like to cut you off from funding and ultimately out of the union. To the hopeful, seeking asylum from terror and violence in their homelands, I’m so sorry we are not the bright, shining city on the hill you imagine us to be. To the innocent people wounded and killed by angry men wielding weapons of war in our streets, to those suffering from addiction, to those with preexisting conditions, to the marginalized, the poor, the sick, the elderly, people of color, lgbtq, non-Christians, non-republicans, to all the others, I’m sorry we can’t do better. But remember this one thing. Your vote counted this week. It made a difference. We are not powerless. And trump is not who we are. He has his blind followers, but there are more of us who remember, more patriots who cling to what matters most…our moral values, decency and truth. The blue wave may not have been a tsunami, but change is coming.


Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 11 November 2018

sometimes family,
this cold, grey mourning
seeks you
mind your manners
a simple blot of ink
blue haze dissipating
show me, just show me
ice-nipped air, drizzling sleet,
peace exists

~kat


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 4 November 2018

You know the saying, “things could not get any worse”. That one. It’s meant to encourage us when things are really bad. Unbelievably awful. I’ve been saying it to myself a lot these past few years. A lot. So many times that it almost seems meaningless, because it’s just not true…

And Worse, for his part, keeps showing me that he is not finished showing off. Every day, Worse is looming, in my face flaunting his best, the greatest hits, of his worst. And the hits keep coming. At a furious pace. Worse is relentless. He’s especially good at reminding me of what I’ve lost…friends, family, security, freedom. He loves making me beg for an end to his madness. He loves beating me down. For every uttered, “it can’t get any worse,” he’s there smugly declaring, “Oh, but it can. It can always get worse.” Worse is a bottomless pit of impossibilities just waiting to spew his venom. To poison us into believing it’s hopeless to imagine anything better than the misery he’s so good at inflicting.

But Worse doesn’t know me. I have seen Worse. And I am still here. The shimmering break of day still moves me…every day. The cool settling of dusk soothes me. I swoon to the caress of the breeze on my cheek, thrill to the trill of birdsong. Oh I know I’m waxing poetic a bit. Hey, it’s what poets do. But like I said, Worse doesn’t know me.

Go ahead give me your worst, Worse, I’ll raise you with hope. Ante up…show how vile you can be. Tell me your lies. They’re no match for the truth. I wear truth like armor. And another thing…I am a raging bundle of love. Love never fails. You can’t stop the beautiful sun from rising, or quiet the birds from singing. You can’t stop the seasons from seasoning. And my friends, the better angels, they’re not afraid of you either. Yes things may seem to be going your way Worse. But not today. Today Hope is rising. She’s ready for a fight. And when she wins, you’re gonna feel it.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 4 November 2018

when words are not enough it’s best not to make up stuff
nipping our hearts, numbing frost, fear, our freedom lost
something was horribly wrong
all have gone…
mustn’t be late, and then we wait, it’s the waiting I hate
the haunt begins…appease them with sweets, don’t let them in
it is not safe here
clouds, drizzle droplets
silenced by our better angels
when so much is at stake / become the truth
gilded needles clinging
remember the things that matter

~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 #106 – 16 October 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 #105 – The Roundup

img_3105 Photo by Matt Artz at Unsplash

Starting us off…
“I’m a moron,” Brad groaned.
“It’s all the rage!” she said. “You have a chance to get in on the ground floor.”
He’d spent his savings on the very first plein air writing kiosk. It became a favorite spot for texters and gamers.
“Cool sculpture,” they’d say, smart phones in hand.
~kat
278 Characters

By Martin at Martin Cororan:
You Maniacs
After years of churning out gibberish the apes finally typed the complete works of Shakespeare.
The boffins in their lab coats seemed very pleased with themselves.
Many moons later Charlton Heston rode along the beach and encountered a semi-submerged Statue of Liberty…
Bloody boffins!

By Hayley at The Story Files:
Working Air
It was a crazy idea, an office set up outside wouldn’t work! Mr.Cooper believed his team would be more productive without the ‘shackled desk’ atmosphere. It did improve things for awhile but then it rained and nobody wanted to work outside anymore.

By Reena at ReInventions:
Alas
Tickety-Tac ….. the fingers din’t stop rattling the keyboard, and dropping white sheets stained with stories on the sand.
But what were the stories?
The great drama unfolding on the horizon, of the meek winning battles….
Then?
They did not live long enough to witness it on Earth.
(276 characters)

By Willow at WillowDot21:
Nightmare
It was the same nightmare that he’d had for years. He’d arrive at work and not only had the office and carpark gone. In their place, among the weeds were five desks and five typewriters. He pinched himself on the arm as Dr Capaldy had suggested. But this time he didn’t wake up.
(280 Characters)

By The Dark Netizen:
TYPEWRITERS
A madman once read that monkeys typing on typewriters are bound to produce a novel. And so, he made monkeys type. Everyone mocked him. But, they were all proven wrong. The monkeys produced a masterpiece!
The madman stood triumphant, the typewriters stood as relics of his victory.
Character Count: 280

By Michael at Morpethroad:
In the house of lost story the keyboards sit idle, awaiting energetic fingers to restore them to life.
Each machine is overflowing with tales gallant and brave.
They sit idle ready to pour forth the next best seller.
A word escapes flops momentarily but gasps a lack of inspiration.
(279 characters)

By Deepa at Sync With Deep:
Eye Love You
for hours
we sat in silence
me and my typewriter
my heart was
his typewriter
and he typed
his love
through my eyes

By Ramya at And Miles to Go Before I Sleep:
Unwritten Fate
News headline read –
Want to change your fate? Then excellent opportunity for you!!!
Be the writer of your own destiny.
Write your own fairytale.*
Write the unwritten.
*Conditions apply – Fate once written cannot be changed back.
Character Count – 223

By Deb at Twenty Four:
With care Lola sprinkled the last grains of sand and then, finally satisfied, took a step back, it looked perfect.
“What is it for though? Old beat up typewriters in the desert?”
She scowled, tourists, they just didn’t comprehend artistic vision.
(247 characters)

By Anurag at Jagahdilmein:
The Writers Shall Inherit the Earth
“Are you sure these were the last of them?” I asked my General.
“Yes Sir,” he replied.
I sighed in relief. We’d managed to extract the last group of writers too.
Now we could safely go ahead with the invasion & annihilation of Planet Earth as per our plans.
258 characters.

By Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
The Sand Fly Typing Pool
The experiment had been tried before with monkeys.
Now, working with sand flies, it was thought that, eventually, their landing on the row of keyboards must lead to a work worthy of Shakespeare.
What a pity Charlie, the office junior, had forgotten to load the platens with paper!
(279 characters)

By Jan at Strange Goings on in the Shed:
Ancestral Burial Grounds
The ancestral burial grounds were a place of pilgrimage
And reflection.
An echo of great literary undertaking
And beauty.
And now,
The ancestors lay shrouded in memories and silence,
For the age of typewriters was all but gone,
A distant memory in the minds of the ones that came after.
(280 characters

By the Universal Unionist:
You already know about the SAS but the existence of an even more secret elite force that fought in WWII has now been revealed by a blogger known only as “agent Kat”. The STS or Special Typewriter Service played a crucial role in undermining and interfering in NAZI signal traffic, I could tell you more but agent Kat has restricted me in revea…..

By the Indie She:
The keys on the typewriters rusty as no one touched them.
Relics of history,they were consigned to the arid plains of oblivion.
Epitome of grander times,when you ruled the keyboard.
Time has turned.
The travesty of our times that keys rule us ,more smaller and smarter.
(267 characters)


A late entry from week #103 by Soul Connection:
Prediction
Ur View On Dis?
May Be Ancestors Prediction On Future.
Mean?
Dey Wr More Intlgnt Den V R 2day.Till Date Almst Evry Prdctn Is True.May B Dis Is Smthng Imprtnt Dey Predicted Abt Future Tht Need Attention n Thts Y Its Dfclt To Decode As U Can C It Includes Almst Evrythng Frm D Univrse.

Well done everyone! I was surprised by all the monkeys (and sand fleas) that made their way into this week’s tales. I guess I’m a bit out of touch. But they were great. Very entertaining, some nostalgic, some that made me think.

This week’s odd photo is by Buzz Anderson at Unsplash. I hope you have fun with it. In 280 characters or less of course, and I’ll see you and next week’s roundup! Have a great week!


Twittering Tales #106 – 16 October 2018

Photo by Buzz Anderson at Unsplash.com

The Great Christmas War

“This is the Christmas War exhibit,” droned the tour guide.

“What’s a Christmas?” asked a wide-eyed boy.

“Well,” the tour guide winked, “50 years ago, Christmas was banned because it drove people nuts! Filled ‘em with greed, hate, envy, rage!”

“Sounds scary!”

“It was buddy. It was.”

~kat

280 Characters


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 14 October 2018

We are swept up in whirlwinds these days. Fractured relationships, fear of the bogeyman, politics, religion where emotions run red hot, firing on all cylinders all the time. Our tendency is to lock ourselves in our houses to ride out the storm. But as we learned this week from Mother Nature, we cannot hide. It is foolish to think we can ride out the storms, be they weather related or otherwise. If we do manage to make it through to the other side, the world we are left with in the light of day is not the one we hid from behind our shuttered doors.

I get it. It’s tempting to turn reality off; to stay in one’s happy place. But eventually we all have to wake up, grow up, open the door and take responsibility for the mess we’ve made. And if we haven’t made the mess, we still need to roll up our sleeves to clean up the mess if we hope to have a future.

I know I talk moments a lot. And don’t get me wrong, I’m a big proponent of savoring precious moments. I am grateful for the occasional interlude from the chaos…for the eye in the storm. But I also know it’s important to remember that the eyes are temporary. Sometimes the back half of a hurricane can be worse than the first. With it comes the surge…the aftermath.

I’ve been scarce this week. I managed to scratch out at least a monostitch a day, a tweet, a haiku, but I have to admit I’m clinging to the moments right now. I’ve worked my muse to exhaustion and I sense she needs a rest. So it is fitting that this week’s reverse is contained within two lovely moments. I’m paying attention. The words will come. It is autumn after all.

Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 14 October 2018

until next time we meet
the simplest of pleasures are gifts beyond measure
clusters of cumulus clouds bloom, raindrops to nimbus
let me love you
I’m a moron
he said, she said, stale-mates should try listening instead
enough, enough I say of this rain, rain go away
speaking of it…the weather…we’re a bit under it
tempest remnants scatter in heaps…we sow what we reap
Autumn dawning hush, jasmine flush gilds Gaia’s awning.

~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.


October 13-31 Poem #11

speaking of it…the weather…we’re a bit under it

~kat

True story….730 miles from landfall, Michael, now a tropical storm, continues to wreak havoc here in the Blue Ridge valley. We had a deluge of rain in a matter of hours, with catastrophic flooding sweeping through our neighborhoods, rivers and creeks rising. And as a special surprise, when I arrived home from work, the ceiling in our mud room had fallen in. Things could be worse. They could always be worse. I think about the joy I felt as I left the office…the air was cool and there was a wind blowing. I love the wind. We need to savor the good moments. Things can change in an instant.