Category Archives: Poetry

September Poem #19

karma
the endless knot…
oh what tangled webs we weave
deception, avarice and greed
‘twill bite you in the arse

~kat


September Poem #18

crickets
nighttime crooners
fill the darkness with music
but a single cricket’s chirping
in a house…maddening

~kat


Boondock Baby

boondock

Boondock Baby

my heart and soul
feel it still, like a warm
wind blowing where
the one thing I know
about living, love, working
hard, having just enough…
this is who I am, no shame,
born on a Saturday night,
raised on five-card poker,
Sunday, say a prayer for me

~kat

A black out poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt. Prompt Word: Boondocks; Photo (above); Song: Boondocks by Little Big Town (below). I took some liberty to make the poem work this week. The word raised was lifted from a previous section, but it worked for the second to last line.


Boondocks

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

And I can feel
That muddy water running through my veins
And I can hear that lullaby of a midnight train
It sings to me and it sounds familiar

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

And I can taste
That honeysuckle and it’s still so sweet
When it grows wild
On the banks down at old camp creek
Yeah, and it calls to me like a warm wind blowing

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and raised in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

It’s where I learned about living
It’s where I learned about love
It’s where I learned about working hard
And having a little was just enough

It’s where I learned about Jesus
And knowing where I stand
You can take it or leave it, this is me
This is who I am

Give me a tin roof
A front porch and a gravel road
And that’s home to me
It feels like home to me

I feel no shame
I’m proud of where I came from
I was born and (raised) in the boondocks
One thing I know
No matter where I go
I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
(Down in the boondocks)
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

You get a line, I’ll get a pole
We’ll go fishing in the craw fish hole
(Down in the boondocks)
Five-card poker on a Saturday night
Church on Sunday morning

Say a little prayer for me

Songwriters: James Lee Westbrook / Karen Fairchild / Kimberly Roads / Kimberly Schlapman / Kimberly B. Roads / Phillip Sweet / Wayne Kirkpatrick

Boondocks lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Downtown Music Publishing

 


September Poem #17

Slightly off topic, weatherly speaking…BUTTLOAD…because I rather like the word and because I need a diversion…and…because I can! Cheers! 😉😄😂🤣😘

From theqwietmuse.com

buttloads
barrels of booze
twice as voluminous as
a hogshead, measuring whiskey
or wine, full bodied, oaked

~kat


September Poem #16

purring
soft murmuring
healing stress; practitioner
of peace, zen master on my chest
reminding me to breathe

~kat