you don’t hear me when I say I love you I’m paying for the demons of your past after all these years, still you have to ask you can’t believe I’ll stay forever true
I wonder if there’s more that I can do to prove my love, or would it be a waste it’s exhausting when my effort is misplaced it’s worth reminding you what we’ve been through
we’ve seen it all, the better and the worst sickness, yours and mine, and family too adversity, met head on, we two pulled through if I had to choose, you know I’d pick you first
so tell me darling dear, do you love me please spare me all this effort, set me free
~kat
I am not a fan of sonnets. But a challenge is a challenge. Chewed on this all day. Obligatory sonnet penned. Glad this is done.
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day Nine: Sunday Sonnet - write your own sonnet. Incorporate tradition as much or as little as you like – while keeping in general to the theme of “love.”
In general, though, here are the main characteristics that define most sonnets: * Number of Lines: 14 * Meter: Typically iambic pentameter * Rhyme Scheme: Petrarchan (abba abba cde cde or abba abba cdc dcd) or Shakespearean (abab cdcd efef gg), among many others * Unique Qualities: Contains a volta (twist or turn) closer to the end of the sonnet * Common Themes: Typically love and romance but also faith, time, personal emotions, and social/political matters
my mind is a junk drawer it gets me nowhere you know, I feel everything I think you see what I’m saying, Judy, at the Dollar General checkout I’m going home now but not before I check the clearance aisle like I need more crap in my downsized life i just might be a closeted hoarder I’m just kidding (but you’re thinking I’m not) the crazy rant of lunacy and a smile that hides sadness I’ll have you know that I have overcome every adversity, untouched she’s super woman, mistress of her universe they will remember that when I’m gone such brilliant fool who believed she could have it all and died trying c'est la vie “You know you don’t need us,”said the junk on aisle 5 have a nice day Judy, keep the change
~kat
Well…today’s challenge was a bear! (See what I did there? 😊). And it took a very dark turn before I knew what was happening! That said, I feel I must make the following disclaimer …the reference to first person in this poem is a purely fictional representation prompted by the weird list of prompts below…haha! I am definitely not a hoarder, closeted or otherwise, I am certainly no Wonder Woman and I am most definitely a bit “touched”, as they say, by life! So glad we cleared that up from the git-go! 🤪
Fred Whan’s Fish Stick Jesus David Howlett’s Naan JesusToby Elles’ Frying Pan Jesus
Fish Stick Jesus
He was sighted on a fish stick, on a pancake and grilled cheese, Some say it was a miracle so the faithful flocked to see.
They found him in his glory on a toasted slice of naan he gazed from ripe banana peels and from unrinsed fry pans.
I know you won’t believe it but they saw him in the clouds as if coming for his chosen from amongst the gathering crowds.
Ever watchful for their savior leaving no stained rock unturned the hopeful ever seeking eager for his grand return.
So He came to them in person wide-eyed, lost, without a home in the hopes that they would know him welcome him in, as their own.
But they ne’er saw him coming turned away and closed their ears for he looked too much like “others” that the righteous ones all feared.
“We’ve just enough, we’ve none to spare, don’t bother us,” they said, and hovered round their idols of his images instead.
When end of days for each one came they waited at the gate to give account of their life’s deeds and learn about their fate.
“We saw you everywhere,” they said, “and gave you proper due… enshrined your image high and low we stayed forever true!”
To their surprise the Master then did shake his head and say, “I only came to see you once ‘twas then you turned away.”
~kat
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge – Day 7: a list poem. For today…after being buried in expense reports, power point presentations, spreadsheets, for about 12 hours straight, my brain is a bit fried. But never fear, I found this gem in my archive, written almost a decade ago. It fits the list requirement rather well, I think. Tomorrow, if the fates are kind, I’ll prepare a fresh baked poem. Until then, Peace and Love my lovelies! 😉
perfect, lifeless boys in the sunshine dead or dying in this new battlefield in schoolhouses here, where guns are business, this country where we dare not want or mention the poison claiming them in such great numbers
too long in this season is blinding us to what we love
~kat
NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day 6: off topic today. Just could wrap my brain around the ask. Soooo….It’s been a while since I wrote a blackout poem. I found this stunning poem by Molly McCully Brown. The title grabbed me right away because I live in Virginia. Her words resonated with me and my own experience here. My take after gleaning from her words resulted in another poem right from the current headlines. I wish it wasn’t 😟
October, I’m dragging the dog away from perfect birds lifeless on the pavement. By the water, boyin dress blues with bayonets, the blistered hulls of boxships. Everything is sunshine. Everything is dead, or dying, and this isn’t a new thought. I grew up here, but farther from the ocean. Each April, they took us to the battlefield, marched us in schoolhouse lines up courthouse steps: here is where the war ended. Never mind that it was fall before the final battleship lowered its flag; never mind that we still haven’t fired the last gun. What business do I have wanting a baby here: in this body where I can’t keep my balance, this country wherewe can’t keep anything alive that needs us, or dares not to, not even the switchgrass pale and starved for groundwater? And still, I do want. I search the news formention of the birds, whatever poison or disease I’m sure is claiming them in such great numbers: meadowlarks, house wrens, chickadees, starlings. Once even a gray gull, pulled open at the chest before we found him, hollowed of his organs. It takes a long time—too long— for me to understand the sun in this season is blinding, and the birds are flying into windows all around me, fourteen stories up. Flying into glass and falling. What we love is rarely blameless. Is it a failure that I wouldn’t trade this brightness? I imagine pointing upward for my daughter: Look, there, how it catches in the changing trees.
there once was a shyster named Don a scammer in chief, a vile con to court he was dragged by a porn star he shagged how climactic, his just denouement!
~kat
A limerick today…straight from the headlines! You can’t make this stuff up! I shouldn’t be enjoying this, but I am. I can’t look away. Not sure I captured the theme…but the past few years have been over the top inappropriate. Hoping this brings a little levity to this absurd train wreck!
NaPoWriMo 2023 Challenge Day 5: write a poem in which laughter comes at what might otherwise seem an inappropriate moment – or one that the poem invites the reader to think of as inappropriate.
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kat Myrman and Like Mercury Colliding with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.