Category Archives: free verse

Burning – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 20

it turns out we were right to burn
our bras in 1968; to let our ta-tas fly
free… 2018 science has determined our
lymph nodes need a break from hard-wired
push up constriction, elastic straps and
padding
…alas we are justified, no longer
chided for those days of our restless
discontent over corrupt leaders, the
establishment, unjust wars (our friends were
dying), our love of free love, pot and folk
ballads, wild psychedelic trips, mania, decades
of mad hazy memories, idealistic musings, we got
a few things right, the bra thing at least, except,
I still wear one every day, clogging, constricting my
lymphs, ignoring science, I’m rebellious that way,
it’s a habit, like flossing, not to mention
the true reason for burning them, and the
fact that no bras were actually burned or harmed,
but a metaphor…a mantra, “Let’s judge
ourselves as people”…
it turns out
we were right to burn then…
we’re still burning

~kat

My rebellion poem for NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 20, prompt: write a poem that involves rebellion in some way. I am most comfortable with rhyming metered verses and lines. Testing out free verse, and what I consider to be streaming consciousness…I hope it doesn’t come off as rambling. Though it is not necessarily a bad thing to ramble. It might grow on me. 🙂

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Melancholia – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 19

For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 19 Prompt: write a paragraph that briefly recounts a story, describes the scene outside your window, or even give directions from your house to the grocery store. Now try erasing words from this paragraph to create a poem or, alternatively, use the words of your paragraph to build a new poem. I used bold text to show you which words I lifted from the prose to create the poem that follows.

This prompt plays out like a deconstructed haibun, using free verse rather than a tanka or haiku/senryu. It also reminds me of doing “black/white out” poetry. At any rate it is a fun way to create a poem. This is my day in day out. Wrote this little break out on my lunch break…back to the grind in 3-2-1.

I spend my daylight hours in a cubicle under a dropped ceiling fitted with fluorescent lights. There is a vent above my head that grinds and blows intermittently throughout the day. I believe that the stale air blasting is laced with dust and black mold from the shadowy crawl spaces in the upper mezzanine partly because I burst into coughing and sneezing fits when the HVAC system kicks in. I heard that the company decided not to do a mold sweep of the building because it didn’t fit in with their ever shrinking budget. Such is life in corporate America where the shareholders and executives are king and the workers are paupers, slaving day in and day out, pinching pennies from the company’s bulging profits. I would likely go crazy, perhaps I’m already a bit mad, if it were not for the floor to ceiling picture windows that flank the outer wall of my cube. At least I can glance out briefly, when my nose is not buried in a spreadsheet and watch the world drift by.  It’s a small perk that makes coming to work at dawn and leaving at dusk, bearable. Sometimes, when I dream at night, I dream of dusty gray cubicles  but sometimes I dream in color.

daylight in a cubicle fitted
with fluorescent lights,
stale air laced with dust and
black mold burst, coughing,
sneezing mold sweep,
ever shrinking is life, where workers
slaving day in and day out, pinching
pennies, go crazy. windows flank
the outer wall. I glance out
briefly, watch the world drift;
sometimes, when I dream
I dream in color.

~kat

 

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The Bees Are Dying – NaPoWriMo 2018 – 18 April 2018

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The bees are dying, in droves, you know.
I suppose it was inevitable,
what with global warming, climate change.
Eden no longer exists,
isn’t it obvious?
It’s been a long time
since we lived in harmony with life on this planet
and least of all, with the bees.
Remember them at the pond?
How we ducked under the water to avoid them?
It was the only thing to do;
brave the slime or risk being stung.
It was a good hiding place then,
but now, the bees are grounded, dying.
We should save them, but maybe it’s too late.
I wonder what will become of this place
of sludge and slime, without the bees?
I wonder what will become of us?

~kat

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For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 18The Prompt: Our prompt for the day (optional as always) isn’t exactly based in revision, but it’s not exactly not based in revision, either. It also sounds a bit more complicated than it is, so bear with me! First, find a poem in a book or magazine (ideally one you are not familiar with). Use a piece of paper to cover over everything but the last line. Now write a line of your own that completes the thought of that single line you can see, or otherwise responds to it. Now move your piece of paper up to uncover the second-to-last line of your source poem, and write the second line of your new poem to complete/respond to this second-to-last line. Keep going, uncovering and writing, until you get to the first line of your source poem, which you will complete/respond to as the last line of your new poem. It might not be a finished draft, but hopefully it at least contains the seeds of one.

I normally write my poetry on my phone or laptop these day, but for this prompt I found my favorite fountain pen and printed a copy of the poem so I could follow the directions precisely with a sheet of paper covering each line last to first (see the actual photo of my scribbling above). I used to write like this before computers were a thing. I used the poem by Anna Jackson below. While I let the title guide my thoughts, I made it a point not to read the poem before I started to write my version so I wouldn’t be swayed by the intent of the original. I think this helped me to respond to each line independently in my response. It was a really interesting exercise. I might have to try it again. 🙂

Bees, so many bees.
By Anna Jackson

After twenty years of marriage, we walked out
of the bush and on to a rough dirt road
we followed till we saw a pond
we might be able to get to.
The ground was boggy and buzzing.
The pond was thick with weed
and slime. It was not
the sort of pond anyone would
swim in, but we did — picking and sliding
into the water over the bog and bees,
bees we suddenly noticed were
everywhere, were settling on our hair
as we swam, ducks turning surprised eyes
our way. After twenty years of marriage
what is surprising isn’t really so much
the person you are with but to find
yourselves so out of place in this scene, cold
but not able to get out without
stepping over bees, so many bees.

Source: Poetry (February 2018)


Future Self – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 11


“Tell me where would you like to be five years from now?”

It’s a standard question posed
at interviews and seminars, one
that swallows me whole into
glaring sheets of paper, pen at
the ready, its ball head scratching
out the reality of my aspiration-less
existence in congealed blue-black
ink blots, truth on display, empty,
thoughtless nothingness.

All I know for certain is
now, perhaps I am
jaded, hesitant,
to scribble pipe dreams on
a page that history has proved,
my history, that plans mean
nothing, because change has
the upper hand; the fates and
karma and this, “The best laid
plans…” you know. I am a
mouse, black eyes bulging,
nibbling nervously on
scrap, relieved to be
breathing. Don’t ask me to
consult my future self. I am
much too busy surviving
the moment.

~kat

For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 11 Prompt: a poem that addresses the future, answering the questions “What does y(our) future provide? What is your future state of mind? If you are a citizen of the “union” that is your body, what is your future “state of the union” address?” (Photo by Alexas_Fotos at Pixabay.com)


Hurried – NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 10

I’ve read the same melodic line
for the fourth time and regretfully,
I may need to read once it again
sadly, I can’t comprehend
what I’m reading…not a single word
I know it sounds absurd…a simple
break from the madness is all I ask
from the clanging cacophony,
no end in sight, I’ll make some tea
and watch it steep and sip and breathe
and close my eyes and think of times
when deadlines didn’t loom so closely
disturb my sleep, my life, but mostly
this very moment I’ll take a stand
take back my life, talk to the hand
I’m reading, slowly, sipping tea,
regretfully for the fifth time now
I may need to read it once again.

~kat

For NaPoWriMo 2018 Day Ten Prompt: write a poem of simultaneity – in which multiple things are happening at once. This is my life. Can I get a do-over?

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