Category Archives: Poetry

May Day 14

hypocratic boast

save
them all
every
trembling heartbeat…
deny their humanity at the gates

~kat

The religious right conservatives republicans are at it again; passing their so-called heartbeat laws in line with their radical pro-life agendas…meanwhile children are still separated and being held in cages (at least three have died) at our southern border, Detroit still does not have safe drinking water, our children have been forced to defend themselves to confront deadly shooters in their classrooms to…some becoming tragic heroes, healthcare is once again on the chopping block, and our teachers struggle to make ends meet while educating our children. Pro-life you say? Don’t tell me how pro-life you are…show me by cherishing life once it has breath!


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


May Day 13

the gloaming

cool
dusk slips
into night
it is quiet
but for the leaves whispering in the breeze

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


May Day 12

magnolia

soon
she will
be blooming,
magnolia,
petals bursting in brief, fragrant splendor

~kat


Poetry form for the month of May: Tetractys/5 lines/syllable count 1-2-3-4-10.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 May 2019

And just like that, she was gone. This week brought news of the passing of an old friend. We had a peculiar relationship, connecting decades ago through poetry on an online message group. We were internet friends, but so much more. We met in the flesh for a brief brilliant moment. It was the summer solstice, I recall, a magical time when we “wise women” (the name of our writing group) decided we needed to connect beyond our computer screens. That weekend we discovered the power of soul connection under the light of a full moon.

When the message board platform ended, we “sisters” disbursed like whirligigs on the wind. That is, until the next cyber platform, Facebook, opened the door and many of us found each other again. How could we not. It was the fates that brought us together time and again after all, and it is the fates who will ultimately decide when this incarnation for each of us will end.

I shall miss my faraway friend’s light and words. But the truth is, she is still here in my heart, her words swirling in my head. Memories, anecdotes, words of wisdom, sound advice. I am forever changed for having known her. And I do believe we will meet again. I’m not sure how or when. I just know we will.

Sail on “M”. It’s been real.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 12 May 2019

that I could lose myself so completely
to entertain the ramblings of a fool
people go crazy over a little rain
not a destination, it’s a circle
search for more
inform our steps to guide us through the haze
or at least try
the true value of a life fully lived
muted
to hear her heartbeat one more time

~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.


A Complicated Mother’s Day

A Complicated Mother’s Day

It’s just a Hallmark holiday, a day of
profit for florists, restaurants and
chocolatiers, a day of burnt breakfast
in bed, macaroni creations, brunches,
lunches, love and adoration, sweetness,
sleeping in for some, queen for a day….
but not for all, for others there’ll be no
fawning children, no candy kisses, no
skyping, text-ed, voice-mailed wishes,
out of sight, out of mind, some will count
the loss of children never born or lost
to death too soon, childless mothers on
the outside looking in…while others just
beyond the veil will swoon from summer
land listening to the whisperings of
children young and not so much who
wish that they had one more day to rest
their head upon their mother’s breast
to hear her heartbeat one more time,
just one more day…and others still who
wish that they could reconcile the mothers
that they wanted with the mothers that
they got and mothers who wished they
could have been more, or better, or less
flawed, we are a complicated lot, mothers
young and old, passed on, passed over,
clinging to memories, sifting through
old photographs, the beautiful, the
melancholy, bittersweetness, children
come and they grow, regret’s a futile
exercise, so please remember to be
kind, don’t assume that just because
she’s had a fruitful womb she’s feeling
blessed, for some, it’s just hallmark
holiday at best, hearts put to the test.

~kat