Category Archives: Poetry

April 11, 2019

who am i ? – NaPoWriMo 2019 #11

By Kat Myrman

who am i?

sometimes i go barefoot just
to feel the earth murmuring,
infusing me with nature song,
lilting sweet, fierce…one day
i shall return to those cool, dark
catacombs below to cavort
with the worms and slugs

i’ve been known to hug a tree
or three or more, now and
again to remember how
to bend when tempests reel
and whirlwinds leave me
vulnerable to the cold, in
nakedness, learning to let go

i have floated in still pools and
on the edge of wave-rushed
shores learning to trust in
buoyancy and the rhythm
of all life’s ebbs and flows…
listening to chattering shell
shards dancing just below

i have counted on a thousand
stars, each night another wish
proposed, felt the moon’s
dizzying nudges, helpless as
the ocean tides, cursed the sun
on sweltering summer days
embraced the dusk and dawn

who am i, but flesh and blood,
carbon, hydrogen and air…to
think that i am separate from
everything i see and hear, the
universe is deep and wide, and i,
a blip in time, a dot in space who’ll
one day disappear without a trace.

~kat

NaPoWriMo 2019 #11 Prompt: write a poem of origin. Where are you from? Not just geographically, but emotionally, physically, spiritually? Maybe you are from Vikings and the sea and diet coke and angry gulls in parking lots. Maybe you are from gentle hills and angry mothers and dust disappearing down an unpaved road. And having come from there, where are you now?

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9 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, free verse, napowrimo, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

April 10, 2019

gray – NaPoWriMo #10

By Kat Myrman

gray

today’s a melancholy kind of day
birds are flying low, and cows laying down,
the leaves of great oak trees are spinning ’round,

whispers a-roaring while reapers make hay,
limp locks a-drooping from curly-topped crowns,
dry seaweed grows damp beneath painted clouds

it’s a good time to be inside tucked away
winged gnats are nipping, vile creepers break ground
it’s gray and windy, for cover we’re bound

the cock’s crow last night, filled us with dismay
we knew it was coming, signs all around
now hear the rain pour, bewitched by the sound
today’s a melancholy kind of day

~kat

I found several bits of weather lore for today’s NaPoWriMo 2019 Challenge Prompt: write a poem that starts from a regional phrase, particularly one to describe a weather phenomenon. 

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1 Comment   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, napowrimo, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Rhymed Tercet

April 9, 2019

mind blown – NaPoWriMo #8

By Kat Myrman

mind blown

I don’t believe I knew what “brrrblubbbballlloooobalub” meant when I was new and my vocabulary was nonexistent, but I’m guessing I liked it all the same, smiling at my parents’ funny faces when they said it… I don’t believe they understood what it meant either, but it stopped me from crying, so they said it again and again…and again. They didn’t understand a lot of things those early years, as they grew up with me and learned about parenting, trial and error being key…somehow I survived barely, moving on and out before they lost their minds…you think I’m kidding… I should have said, before my father put a bullet between his eyes and my mother destroyed her body with years of drug abuse and doctor tripping…too much?

What I meant to say is that I have a pretty good idea how not to lose oneself to oblivion, not because I’m any less neurotic than my parents…I’m afraid my genes are laced with lunacy…but I have tried to learn from their mistakes, spent decades vomiting words to therapists (with an “s” because it takes time to find the right one who is not a bible-thumping, name it, claim it, pray the demon out of you, zealot), gotten the right mix, the perfect recipe, for my anti-depressive cocktail of pharmaceuticals, legal, of course, and I have tried to be good, to be kind, to be a good listener, to be a helper, but not a doormat, and to learn to say no, to learn to trust, to let myself love another person, and to give myself permission to walk away from anyone or thing that feels wrong…it has taken me a long time to figure out I’m okay…

sometimes I let out a roudy brrblubbbballlloooobalub when no one is listening just to feel the rush of joy that bubbles up inside me, centering me in the moment, so I can breathe in and out and smile. I think I’m starting to understand what that silly gibberish means after all these years. Absolutely nothing, of course and that is okay…that is okay.

~kat

A prose poem for NaPoWriMo 2019 #9 Prompt – Write your own Sei Shonagon-style list of “things.”

17 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in napowrimo, Poetry, Prose Poem, Random Thoughts and Musings

April 8, 2019

The Bottom Line – NaPoWriMo #8

By Kat Myrman

The Bottom Line

at the end of the day
if you’re still herding cats
at the end of the day

in light of the fact that
with your ducks in a row
if you’re still herding cats

check the box, good to go
jump the shark if you dare
with your ducks in a row

keep your balls in the air
while you fish or cut bait
jump the shark if you dare

don’t ignore drop dead dates
be an agent of change
while you fish or cut bait

paradigms rearrange
be an agent of change
at the end of the day
at the end of the day

~kat

For  NaPoWriMo #8 Prompt: think about the argot of a particular job or profession, and see how you can incorporate it into a metaphor that governs or drives your poem, a Terzanelle. It’s a cross between a Terza Rima and a Villanelle. By the way, did you guess what profession I focused on? If you guessed business you would be a right. What can I say, the business world sucks up most of my life.  Here’s a link to the jargon used above and then some, with suggestions on how you can STOP using these worn out lines! ;).

5 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, napowrimo, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Terzanelle

April 7, 2019

Monday Musings

By Kat Myrman

a time for
everything
seasons for
every purpose
love and hate
stones to gather
history gets
muddled, its
pleasures, its
pains die in time

~kat

A Blackout/Found Poem. See the source poem below:

A Man In His Life
by Yehuda Amichai

A man doesn’t have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn’t have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn’t have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn’t learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there’s time for everything.

8 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Blackout Poetry, Challenges and Writing Prompts, Digital Art & Photos, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings