Category Archives: Essays

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 October 2017

When…I’m old enough…I get that promotion…I’ve saved a bit more money…I lose weight…the kids finish school…the stars align…the light turns green…the time is right…I get that job…I retire…I finally get that degree…I’ve proven myself…the coast is clear…I’ve got nothing to lose…I have more time…I get lucky…I’m ready…tomorrow comes…

Excuses, excuses! Dreams have a way of slipping away. Because life…and excuses. Life scribbles nonsense on our beautiful clean slate when we are young. We forget, we give up, we settle.

But dreams don’t die generally. They’re still in there. It’s never too late. Dreams realized don’t necessarily need to come with the fame and fortune of our youthful idealized aspirations.

Sometimes all it takes is a willingness to just do that thing you dreamed of. Sing if you’ve always wanted to sing…alone…in the shower..in the car. Take that class, not with that piece of paper at the end in mind, but for the joy of learning. Cook like a gourmet. Travel…even if it’s to the town next door. Experience it’s hidden treasures. Every place has them. Paint, take beautiful photographs, learn to fly! And if you’re like me be a writer. Fill journals, notebooks or a blog, with beautiful words; even if no one reads them but you. It will change your life. It is life…beautiful…hovering…waiting to be lived!

Have a wonderful week of dreams realized. You deserve it!

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 October 2017

she’s in there somewhere

breath of life, thick

not silly…look
rouged red, lipstick-stained teeth,
longing to be touched
impenetrable
so tell me, who’s smarter?
when will this end?
this dark night of souls
embracing all of life
beautiful life hovering

~kat

A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week


Preta & Guisard – Friday’s AND Saturday’s Words of the Day

I missed posting yesterday’s word of the day, but as a bonus, today you shall have two lovely words to wrap your brain around! Friday’s word, Preta, a noun from Hindu Mythology meaning a wandering or disturbed ghost. And Saturday’s word, Guisard, a noun the means a person who wears a mask; mummer.

Given the season and impending dark night of all souls hallow, I thought it would be fitting to combine the two in a Haiku. Here’s a bit of history on the two from Dictionary.com:


Preta finds its origins In Sanskrit where e is a long vowel ( it is also transliterated as ē). Hindi grammarians correctly analyzed e as a monophthong replacing an earlier dipthong ai; thus the Sanskrit adjective preta, “gone before, deceased” is from an earlier form, ‘praita’, formed from the adverb and prefix ‘pra’ – “forth” and ‘ita’ – “gone”. Pra- is cognate with the Latin and Greek prepositions and prefixes, ‘prō’/‘pró’ (Greek) and ‘prae’, all of them meaning “before; in front of”. The Sanskrit participle ‘ita’ corresponds exactly with the Latin ‘itum’, past participle is the verb ‘īre’, “to go” and the Greek verbal adjective ‘itós’ “passable”, all from the Proto-Indi-European root ‘ei’, ‘i’ -“to go”. Preta entered English in the early 19th century. From wictionary we learn that: a Preta is a hungry ghost (a supernatural being in Buddhist folklore, the spirit of a greedy person whose divine retribution is to never be sated). How many a weary folk has woken to the first day of November the victim of mischievous antics of Pretas whose quest for sweets was not sated, in the form of TP garlands and raw egg peltings?!


And then there is Guisard, a Scottish and North English word. The first part of the word, guise, in Scotland and northern England means “to appear or go in disguise.” The suffix -ard, occasionally spelled -art, is now used mostly in a pejorative sense for someone who does something habitually or excessively, e.g., drunkard, braggart. Guisard entered English in the 17th century. Soon comes Halloween, when greedy, giddy guisards roam the streets, banging on doors, declaring their mantra, “trick or treat”. A wise somebody will appease these mummers by offering them the sweets they crave lest they transform into scary pretas with a vendetta to settle!

It’s all in good fun of course! An annual ritual that hearkens to an age when the veil between the living and the dead was not quite as pronounced. Our ancestors solemnly remembered and honored the dead more formally; gone but definitely not forgotten. Today we passingly engage this annual ritual in sport, sending our costumed children to the streets for a night of innocent begging. But the thinness of the veil is still there, souls lurking in the shadows, which adds to the drama of this dark, dark time.

These days, I must admit I turn my porch light out, not because I don’t enjoy the onslaught of tiny ghouls and gremlins, but because they terrify my fury housemates. We sit in darkness to the sound of potter-pattering feet outside our door…and entertain the lore of my ancestors, setting a place of honor at my table for loved ones passed. Sometimes I light a candle…or two or three to let them know I remember. I feel their presence ever so near. It could very well be my imagination, but there is something to this ancient dark night of all souls. Something indeed!

this dark night of souls
comes guisards begging for treats
pretas in the mist

~kat


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 22 October 2017

Happy Sunday…it is still Sunday. Busy morning, dogs to the groomers, and then a nap. I love naps. Some people tell me they can’t sleep during the day. That is not me. I love a good midday slip between cool sheets with a fan moving cool air over me and my pup snuggled up close. It’s something, I have convinced myself, that I do for me. It’s a guilty pleasure, like a square of “Dove’s” dark chocolate chilled to perfection in the freezer, or flipping up the radio to 11 on the drive home from work.

It doesn’t take much to amuse me. Which is a good thing. Normally I use this space to reflect on what the posts from the previous seven days are telling me about where my brain was during the week.

But I’m not in the mood to rehash the latest, greatest hits and misses of the world that inspired my rambling last week. Not today. I’ll let the lines and (something new this week) photos tell the story.

As for my me. I’m feeling fab. Just had a nap and there is a tiny, frosty square of love calling my name. Sometimes you just have to let the world tend to itself for a while.

Peace out! 💗

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 22 October 2017

you’re about to be blown away<
runk to stem, veins to branches<
t is dark dusky quiet…<
ou dragged me here for a stupid kid’s ring?<
hat’s the one.

they said, empty your noggin<
paces in between

she weeps<
s a sweet young thing,<
ranslucent, placid surface

so fly my darling girl / don’t make waves drive fools to folly

baby steps…<
time to blossom<
ut for your light<
n purple<
reath of god softly flowing

~kat

A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Perlocutionary -Friday’s Word of the Day

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Today’s word of the day on dictionary.com is a whopper, and therefore quite the challenge when constrained by the limited syllable budget of a Haiku. I shall nevertheless give it its due. Perlocutionary is an adjective that describes a type of speech that persuades, enlightens, inspires, frightens, or amuses the listener, causing them to act. Philosopher, J.L. Austin explains it perfectly in this excerpt from “How to Do Things with Words”, written in 1962: “We can similarly distinguish the locutionary act ‘he said that’ …from the illocutionary act ‘he argued that’…and the perlocutionary act ‘he convinced me that’…”

The word perlocution has been around since the 16th century originally meaning the act of speaking. It basis was formed from the Latin locutio, “speech, speaking, discourse”, a derivative of the verb loqui, “to speak”. Its present iteration as a noun and adjective did not enter the English language until the 20th century with the addition of the prefix ‘per’ meaning “through, complete or perfect” (as in brought to completion).

I learned that there are stages in the application of locutionary, illocutionary and perlocutionary acts. While it would seem that the latter is the more refined direct act of the three I was surprised to discover that, in fact, infants between the age of 0-8 months are masters in the art of perlocutionary discourse through the use of sounds and gestures. Every whimper, coo and cry has an affect on the hearer, causing them to act. Eventually the child begins to repeat actual words (locutionary acts) and to apply them with meaning as in the words “no” or “why” (illocutionary acts).

It’s all very interesting of course. And way over my head. I have rarely bothered myself to determine whether a speech or statement is locutionary, illocutionary or perlocutionary, but I do admit to being moved and swayed by words. A simple cry for help raises my adrenaline and propels me into help mode. And a temper tantrum can shut me down in no time flat.

We are so easily convinced by words. I doubt that I’ll take time to analyze the words that move me, next time it happens. Even though I now have a word for it. Perlocutionary acts…my biggest challenge at the moment is figuring out how to fit a six syllable word into a Haiku. But at least now you have a new word to file in your vocabulary drawer under “words that are nice to know”.😊

words of gloom and doom,
perlocutionary acts,
drive fools to folly

~kat

http://www.dictionary.com/wordoftheday/2017/10/20/perlocutionary


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 15 October 2017

If there is one thing you can expect from me, dear reader, it is raw honesty. The good, the bad and the ugly. At least from my perspective. Because that is all any of us has. We see the world through our own personal lenses. Some of us take the time and make the effort to inform our opinions with fact. And some of us let others do the work for us, gravitating to the truth that feels good to us.

Welcome to modern day America where news is fake, opinions are truth, there is us and them, and fear trumps love and reason. I saw it coming. This hotbed of extremes we find ourselves in. I tried to warn those closest to me that their support and vote for evil would not end well. I hate being right.

There is no satisfaction in having my greatest fears come true. There is only heartache compounded by the battle scars that I’ve sustained in the aftermath. My adult children, their spouses and extended families all voted for Trump.

Was I wrong to be angry? Was I wrong to feel betrayed? Was I wrong for being sad to realize the truth about those closest to me? I can tell you it makes me feel like a total failure as a parent. Though, with middle-aged children, when does the responsibility for their actions cease to be my fault? Mothers are too easily blamed.

And so I find myself in a new reality. A casualty of these divided states of America. Because I have refused to remain silent in the face of the injustice and the assaults on freedom, democracy and liberty for all, my own universe has imploded. My punishment for being other is to be outcast, separated from my beloved grandchildren, and disowned by everyone but my partner…and my dogs who still love me unconditionally. No more birthdays, mother’s days, grandparent’s days, thanksgivings or christmases to look forward to. Living death in the face of everything I held dear because I could not bury my emotions from those I had always considered safe.

Honesty, reality, truth, compassion, empathy, love. They still mean something to me. I have paid a dear price for these things. It is all I have left of the me as I struggle to find my way in this new reality. My heart grieves everyday. Being dead while living is not for the faint of heart. But I still believe in truth and honesty…and love. Even when it hurts.

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 15 October 2017

left to wither alone
warm flush reducing me to ash / over the edge, swirling shards of bone
What’s so important
troubling my heart…
no one wants to know
phantoms in the mist
Oh my god! What happened?!”
That day the world felt too big.
I never believed in signs.
the moribund harbingers
it was never love
on the wind take flight
there’s a battle
power to change
it is now
to be forgotten

~kat

A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.