Category Archives: Haibun

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 8 October 2017

It befuddles and confounds us; the senseless rage rising up like fire, raining down like acid. Friendly fire that no walls, travel bans or profiling can protect us from. Why are we confused by the realization that our worst enemy is not some other?

And yet we refuse to own it once again. Those with the power to address tragedy turn their eyes away. Their pale lips drip with platitudes and empty prayers, while their pockets moan to be filled with alms for their loyal cowardice.

It is no longer when, how or if this madness will ever end. We are trapped in this house of mirrors. But the terrible monster is not hiding behind the looking glass. No. The monster stands tall and center, glaring at us; a million eyes, burning holes through our souls.

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 8 October 2017

okay universe…you have my attention
in the wake of hate’s fire
it was the perfect disguise
misty shapeshifting fay
soul deep pools of ebon wonder
here’s the order in black and white
luna’s face glows flush
gently letting go
swirling into syllables
truth’s reflection burning bright
of course we never let on
crave its sweetness
by lingering sadness
rooted in stone
every sinister force
untouched by seasons

~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.


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 1 October 2017

Being an optimist is exhausting, especially now. I’m not going to rattle off another list of what is wrong with the world. You already know it…if you’re paying attention. And I’m guessing you’re exhausted like me.

I’ve stopped saying “I can’t believe it! How is this happening?!” I’ve stopped believing that I can count on people, even those I love, to do the right thing. I’ve started to believe that voting doesn’t matter because politicians are not in it for the people, but to line their pockets and ensure comfortable retirements for themselves.

I’m seriously considering the fact that I may not be an optimist after all. I’m clearly not up to the task. But I can’t bring myself to admit that I’m a pessimist either. Luckily for me, and you too if you’re exhausted, there is another option. Being a realist.

I looked up realist and found the perfect definition in the Urban Dictionary:

Realists have a firm grip on reality and can see things for what they are, not what they are told they are. Realists have their own views and do not fall victim to propaganda, misconception, or titles!

1. There is the Pessimist who believes the glass is half empty!

2. There is the Optimist who believes the glass is half full!

3. Then there is the Realist who knows it is just half a fucking glass!

No more exhausting “rah rah la-la-la, everything is unicorns and rainbows” optimism from me! No more “kiss your ass goodbye, the sky is falling” pessimism either. They’re both exhausting and in a word, delusional. Realism is where it’s at. My self-talk needs a do-over…

“So yeah, things suck…a lot…right now. And it’s probably gonna get worse before it gets better. Fortunately for you, for everyone, it won’t last forever. It never does. Get a grip! In the meantime, the sun is shining and the sky is blue. Or maybe it’s raining. Deal with it. We need rain sometimes. It helps plants…and people grow. But the sky is definitely not falling, so get over yourself. And for god’s sake, get out of bed. Today is 24 hours of whatever you choose to make it. Clock is ticking sweetheart. Get out there. Kick some ass!”

I’m definitely pessimistically, optimistic that being a realist is the way to go. I am so over being an extremist. At the end of the day I might still be exhausted, but it will be well earned exhaustion from keeping it real!

Have a great week everyone! Here’s to keeping it real and kicking it!

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 1 October 2017

conformation be damned

it drives us mad if we ignore it

and then some

the twister spared the trees 

air dense with death’s balm

chaos rages, earth in flux

tossed and forgotten

a tiny dot on a page

back in the day

pipe-dreams on inked pages

until the lights went out

ending suddenly into dead, black silence

tracks through the wild

even if it is hard to see…

I am not dazzled

death whispers to her

~kat


Lonely-Hearts – Friday’s Word of the Day

lonelyhearts

Today’s Word of the Day on dictionary.com is lonely-hearts. It is defined as: of or for people seeking counseling or companionship to bring love or romance into their lives: a lonely-hearts column in the newspaper or in more modern terms, online dating sites. Dictionary.com also explains the origin of lonely-hearts as:

The noun lonely heart in the sense “a lonely or friendless person” and the adjective lonely-hearts, referring especially to a column or feature in a newspaper feature entered English nearly simultaneously. The terms are probably most closely associated with the novel Miss Lonelyhearts by Nathanael West (1903-40). The noun lonely heart entered English in 1932; the adjective lonely-hearts entered English in 1933.

I was intrigued by the reference to Nathanael West’s novel Miss Lonelyhearts. “Miss” Lonelyhearts was actually an anonymous male journalist who wrote an advice column for a New York newspaper during the Depression. Not only was Lonelyheart considered something of a joke by the newspaper staffers, but he allegedly fell into a deep depression, burdened by the desperate letters from his readers. This led Lonelyheart on a downward spiral of heavy drinking and bar brawls and a few affairs, the last of which would lead to his ironic demise. Despite all this he tried desperately to escape the pain of the letters, traveling to the countryside with his fiance and by turning to religion. It was only after he had a religious epiphany that he met his end at the hands of the husband of his latest mistress. This black comedy, as it was described, weaves elements of Marxist ideology, religion, the sad state of a valueless world and the cynicism of a “machine” that mass produces empty solutions to systemic problems of society.

It’s easy to see, from this best-selling book of the 1930’s, how “lonely-hearts” became an adjective. And despite the lessons of the book, it is interesting to note that we still seek advice from sterile advice columns. We read daily horoscopes hoping for direction or affirmation of what we already know or hope for. We seek entertainment to escape the reality of our lives. And we seek love by scanning fabricated personal profiles on online dating sites. But it all falls flat, because we do these things anonymously, without having to bare our heart and soul. It is no wonder we are forever searching for answers, because the answers we seek, answers that truly make a difference, need to be personal, not mass-tabloid, bottom of the birdcage-lining rags. Poor Lonelyheart. I get the sense from reading a summary of the book, that he finally finds his answers through a spiritual awakening. But he meets his end, all the same, at the hands of an enraged man who fails to see his change of heart for what it is. I think that is the greatest tragedy of all.

How often do we hear it said that someone can feel lonely even in a room full of people. Modern technology, instant gratification, social media, texting, tweeting, all keep us disconnected and detached from each other.

But there are moments. Eye contact and smiles from strangers that stop you in your tracks and ignite a spark in your heart. That moment’s connection can change you. I live for those moments. We all do. And the best thing about recognizing this is that we can be this moment for another person. Being, not receiving, can change us too. Make eye contact…smile. It will change your life.

Well! I certainly didn’t see all that coming. It’s amazing what can come of ruminating over a simple word of the day. Lonely-heart. Here’s a Haiku to wrap things up.

lonely-hearts flutter
to pipe-dreams on inked pages
like moths to a flame

~kat


Love’s Daughter

Love’s Daughter


I am the daughter of kings and queens; of saints and sinners, revolutionaries, valkyries and explorers. Because they loved centuries ago, my DNA is infused with their spirits. My heart beats to the drumbeat of greatness, and sometimes notoriety.

Of course, not all of my ancestors changed the course of history, but we are all links in a chain. My own contribution to the legacy of my for-bearers: four daughters, a few songs and volumes of poetry that only a few eyes will see.

But it is enough. We all can’t be Gandolf “King of Vingulmork Norway” Alfgeirsson, or Eleanor “Duchess of Aquitaine”, Henry II, King of England, or Itta, “The Blessed” of Nivilles, Harald VII Herbastus ”Bluetooth” deCrepon Gormosson, or Mary Chilton, who crossed the Atlantic on The Mayflower to begin a new life in a new land. But I feel each of them coursing through my veins. Every ounce of tenacity, pluck and determination in me is a testament to their legacy.

I am the daughter of kings and queens; of saints and sinners, revolutionaries, valkyries and explorers. Because they loved and lived centuries ago, their joys, their sorrows, their very spirits live in me.

droplets of crimson
legacy’s bloodline melding
like mercury colliding
spirit of my ancestors
coursing through my veins
spirit of love enduring

destiny’s daughter
a tiny dot on a page
lost to history

~kat

For Colleen Chesebro’s Weekly Poetry Challenge #52, A Haibun/Tanka/Haiku prompted by the words “Spirit” and “Joy”.

img_9062

A few of the “Begats” if you’re interested 🙂 We might be related. You never know! 🙂

GANDOLF “KING OF VINGULMORK NORWAY” ALFGEIRSSON (708 – 768)
41st great-grandfather
Alfhild Denmark Norway Gandolfsdottir (728 – 810)
daughter of GANDOLF”KING OF VINGULMORK NORWAY” ALFGEIRSSON
King Ragnar “Lodbrok or Hairy Breeches” of Denmark and Sweden Sigurdsson (750 – 845)
son of Alfhild Denmark Norway Gandolfsdottir
Sigurd Snake Eye Oega Ragnarrson Denmark (786 – 873)
son of King Ragnar “Lodbrok or Hairy Breeches” of Denmark and Sweden Sigurdsson
Hardeknud Harthacanute Denmark Sigurdsson (814 – 884)
son of Sigurd Snake Eye Oega Ragnarrson Denmark
Gormr “The Old” King of Denmark Hardeknudsson (860 – 936)
son of Hardeknud Harthacanute Denmark Sigurdsson
Harald VII Herbastus Bluetooth deCrepon Gormsson (906 – 987)
son of Gormr “The Old” King of Denmark Hardeknudsson
Lady Wevia Doceline Woerta Aveline Senfrie DeMontfort DeCrepon (942 – 1037)
daughter of Harald VII Herbastus Bluetooth deCrepon Gormsson
Humphrey DeHarcourt (980 – 1044)
son of Lady Wevia Doceline Woerta Aveline Senfrie DeMontfort DeCrepon
Albreda DePreaux (1042 – 1112)
daughter of Humphrey DeHarcourt
Countess Albreda De Rie (1060 – 1096)
daughter of Albreda DePreaux
Muriel Valoienes (1070 – 1090)
daughter of Countess Albreda De Rie
Autigonus DeMontchensy (1085 – )
son of Muriel Valoienes
Agnes Weynes de Montchensy (1110 – )
daughter of Autigonus DeMontchensy
John DeHolebrok (1140 – )
son of Agnes Weynes de Montchensy
Edmund deHolebrok (1170 – 1250)
son of John DeHolebrok
William DeHolebrok (1200 – 1250)
son of Edmund deHolebrok
Sir Richard deHolebrok (1230 – 1291)
son of William DeHolebrok
John DeHolebrok (1260 – 1306)
son of Sir Richard deHolebrok
John DeHolebrok (1290 – 1316)
son of John DeHolebrok
Sir Thomas DeHolbrok (1316 – )
son of John DeHolebrok
John DeHolbrok (1350 – 1382)
son of Sir Thomas DeHolbrok
William DeHolbrok (1380 – )
son of John DeHolbrok
John DeHolbrook (1410 – )
son of William DeHolbrok
Thomas Holbrook (1440 – 1561)
son of John DeHolbrook
William Holbrook (1474 – 1546)
son of Thomas Holbrook
Constance Johanna Holdbrook (1507 – 1576)
daughter of William Holbrook
Constance Thayer (1532 – 1580)
daughter of Constance Johanna Holdbrook
William Holbrook (1568 – 1625)
son of Constance Thayer
Thomas Holbrook (1599 – 1677)
son of William Holbrook
Captain John Holbrook (1617 – 1699)
son of Thomas Holbrook
Experience Holbrook (1661 – 1685)
daughter of Captain John Holbrook
Joseph Edson (1679 – 1768)
son of Experience Holbrook
Joseph Edson (1712 – 1778)
son of Joseph Edson
John Edson (1748 – 1814)
son of Joseph Edson
Isaac Edson (1770 – 1844)
son of John Edson
Hannah Edson (1798 – 1873)
daughter of Isaac Edson
Ambrose Tower (1825 – 1907)
son of Hannah Edson
Mary H. Tower (1836 – 1883)
daughter of Ambrose Tower
John Henry Collins (1868 – )
son of Mary H. Tower
Sylvia Collins (1892 – 1972)
daughter of John Henry Collins
William Collins Cunningham (1909 – 1967)
son of Sylvia Collins
Dorothy Ellen Cunningham (1933 – 2006)
daughter of William Collins Cunningham
Kathleen Myrman
You are the daughter of Dorothy Ellen Cunningham

Eleanor Duchess Of Aquataine (1122 – 1204) Wife of Henry, II, King of England
25th great-grandmother/25th great-grandfather
Joan Plantagenet (1165 – 1199)
daughter of Eleanor Duchess Of Aquataine
Joan De Kinewarton (1189 – 1215)
daughter of Joan Plantagenet
Richard DeBruley (1211 – 1250)
son of Joan De Kinewarton
Henry De Bruley (1243 – 1305)
son of Richard DeBruley
William DeBruley (1270 – 1359)
son of Henry De Bruley
Alice Bruley (1326 – 1390)
daughter of William DeBruley
(Sir) Guy de La Spine Baron of Coughton (1350 – 1427)
son of Alice Bruley
Agnes Andrew (1460 – 1466)
daughter of (Sir) Guy de La Spine Baron of Coughton
Lady Cecilia Agnes Tansley (1460 – 1515)
daughter of Agnes Andrew
William Winslow (1490 – 1543)
son of Lady Cecilia Agnes Tansley
Kenelm Winslow (1534 – 1607)
son of William Winslow
Edward Winslow (1560 – 1631)
son of Kenelm Winslow
JOHN Winslow (1597 – 1674), Husband of Mary Chilton
son of Edward Winslow
Susanna Winslow (1630 – 1685)
daughter of JOHN Winslow
Mercy Latham (1650 – 1707)
daughter of Susanna Winslow
Mary Harris (1690 – 1727)
daughter of Mercy Latham
Sarah Packard (1714 – 1792)
daughter of Mary Harris
Judith Shaw (1749 – 1776)
daughter of Sarah Packard
Isaac Edson (1770 – 1844)
son of Judith Shaw
Hannah Edson (1798 – 1873)
daughter of Isaac Edson
Ambrose Tower (1825 – 1907)
son of Hannah Edson
Mary H. Tower (1836 – 1883)
daughter of Ambrose Tower
John Henry Collins (1868 – )
son of Mary H. Tower
Sylvia Collins (1892 – 1972)
daughter of John Henry Collins
William Collins Cunningham (1909 – 1967)
son of Sylvia Collins
Dorothy Ellen Cunningham (1933 – 2006)
daughter of William Collins Cunningham
Kathleen Myrman
You are the daughter of Dorothy Ellen Cunningham

Itta Blessed Ida Nivelles (591 – 652)
45th great-grandmother
Saint Beggue Carolingian Landen And Austrasia (613 – 698)
daughter of Itta Blessed Ida Nivelles
Pepin Fat Herstal Austrasia (635 – 714)
son of Saint Beggue Carolingian Landen And Austrasia
Charles or Karl The Hammer Mayor of Palace In Austrasia Martel (675 – 741)
son of Pepin Fat Herstal Austrasia
Aude Aldane (732 – 804)
daughter of Charles or Karl The Hammer Mayor of Palace In Austrasia Martel
Redburh Wessex (788 – 839)
daughter of Aude Aldane
AETHELWULF I NOBLE WOLF OF WESSEX. KING OF ENGLAND (806 – 857)
son of Redburh Wessex
Alfred”The Great” King of England (849 – 901)
son of AETHELWULF I NOBLE WOLF OF WESSEX. KING OF ENGLAND
Edward The Elder King of England (871 – 924)
son of Alfred”The Great” King of England
Edmund I “The Magnificent” King of England Aetheling (922 – 946)
son of Edward The Elder King of England
Edgar “The Peacable” King of England (943 – 975)
son of Edmund I “The Magnificent” King of England Aetheling
Ethelred II Mucel The Unready King of England A (968 – 1016)
son of Edgar “The Peacable” King of England
Elfgifu Aelfgifu Elgiva England Wessex (997 – 1098)
daughter of Ethelred II Mucel The Unready King of England A
LUCIA (Countess Chester) DeMercia (1040 – 1080)
daughter of Elfgifu Aelfgifu Elgiva England Wessex
Lucy Countess Chester Taillebois (1068 – 1136)
daughter of LUCIA (Countess Chester) DeMercia
Ranulph II (Earl of Chester) De Meschines (1099 – 1153)
son of Lucy Countess Chester Taillebois
Hugh DeMeschines (1147 – 1181)
son of Ranulph II (Earl of Chester) De Meschines
Agnes DeMeschines (1174 – 1247)
daughter of Hugh DeMeschines
William, III, 5th Earl of Derby De Ferrers (1193 – 1254)
son of Agnes DeMeschines
Matilda Maud de Ferrers (1228 – 1298)
daughter of William, III, 5th Earl of Derby De Ferrers
Joan Countess of Chewton de Vivonne+ (1250 – 1314)
daughter of Matilda Maud de Ferrers
Margaret FitzPiers (1274 – 1300)
daughter of Joan Countess of Chewton de Vivonne+
Roger WINTER (1300 – 1325)
son of Margaret FitzPiers
Richard Winter (1325 – 1350)
son of Roger WINTER
William Winter (1350 – 1398)
son of Richard Winter
Elizabeth Winter (1384 – 1408)
daughter of William Winter
John Reade (1408 – 1434)
son of Elizabeth Winter
Thomas READE (1434 – 1460)
son of John Reade
John Reade (1460 – 1503)
son of Thomas READE
William Reade (1485 – 1534)
son of John Reade
ALICE READ (1512 – 1556)
daughter of William Reade
Thomas Trowbridge (1542 – 1619)
son of ALICE READ
John Trowbridge (1570 – 1649)
son of Thomas Trowbridge
Thomas Trowbridge (1598 – 1672)
son of John Trowbridge
Deacon James Trowbridge (1636 – 1717)
son of Thomas Trowbridge
Hannah Trowbridge (1672 – 1728)
daughter of Deacon James Trowbridge
Daniel Greenwood (1704 – 1775)
son of Hannah Trowbridge
Sarah Greenwood (1734 – 1808)
daughter of Daniel Greenwood
Sibbel Roper (1758 – 1826)
daughter of Sarah Greenwood
Susanna Walker (1787 – 1814)
daughter of Sibbel Roper
Sybil Roper Adams (1810 – 1881)
daughter of Susanna Walker
Mary Jane Totten (1830 – 1891)
daughter of Sybil Roper Adams
Mary H. Tower (1836 – 1883)
daughter of Mary Jane Totten
John Henry Collins (1868 – )
son of Mary H. Tower
Sylvia Collins (1892 – 1972)
daughter of John Henry Collins
William Collins Cunningham (1909 – 1967)
son of Sylvia Collins
Dorothy Ellen Cunningham (1933 – 2006)
daughter of William Collins Cunningham
Kathleen Myrman
You are the daughter of Dorothy Ellen Cunningham


Life Music

kat

Kat Myrman – Late 1990’s – South Central Virginia

Life Music

Before fiction, flash and poetry, before this blog, I wrote songs. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say, I heard songs in my head and had the good sense to write them down.

Pages and pages of rhyming words set to melodies filled my head; a gift from the universe, I had supposed, that sustained me during some of the hardest times of my life: poverty, domestic abuse, isolation. I was a troubadour then, performing for my supper, more often than not, in living rooms, nursing homes, hospital rooms and meeting halls.

I never truly considered them “my songs” because they seemed to come from somewhere outside of myself. In retrospect I realize that they were every bit me. My hopes, my dreams, my longings, wrapped mellifluously in simplicity to help me express what I was feeling, how things were and how they could be.

I still make music, but somewhere along the way I stopped singing the words. These days I hum, and that suits me just fine. The earth, the trees, the wind, the sea; they all hum. I’m content in knowing that I am in good company.

sometimes the words come
like an old friend, familiar,
they meant something once
more than a sweet melody
desire set to music

what a gift they were
those streams of consciousness
these days I just hum

~kat

A Haibun/Tanka/Haiku combo for Colleen Chesebro’s Weekly Poetry Challenge, prompt words, song and gift.


%d bloggers like this: