ignore the past and risk repeating it they say
the past is good well but I’m distracted on this day
one day i know i’ll be just a fleeting memory
to this bundle in my arms, we call her Ashby Quinn
a good old family name, and so a life begins
~kat
Category Archives: Poetry
When Demons Rage
passions from a
common source
sorrow to joy,
of life, good and ill,
the mystery, the torrent,
red, ’round me roll’d
the lightning flying by
the thunder, the storm,
when heaven was blue,
a demon in view
~kat
A Black Out Poem for MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the poem below, “Alone” by Edgar Allen Poe
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
August – Stanza 19
why do I have eyes of blue and curly golden locks
what mystery meld of genes informs my flesh and blood
am I just the sum of kin who’ve lived and died before
wondering what makes me, me, and makes you, you
our histories’ hold a glimpse, hard to ignore
~kat
For Jane Dougherty’s August Stanza Challenge.
From a history source online:
Queens of Italy: Women in Power in Medieval Italy
Theodelinda was born in 570 A.D. in Bavaria. Her parents were Garipaldo, of Frank origin, and Valderada, daughter of a famous Lombard King, Vacone. At the age of nineteen, she became the wife of Autari, king of the Lombards, bringing him royal blood from her Lombard ancestor and good relationship with the Bavarian Kingdom. But after just one year of marriage, Autari died. According to the legend, the widow was allowed to choose her next husband: Agilulf, who became king of the Lombards. More likely, she was “persuaded” to marry the chief chosen by the dukes. The royal couple resided in Milan, a former capital of the Roman Empire. They pursued a policy of pacification among Lombards and Romans, promoting the coexistence of Catholicism and Arianism, the religion of the majority of the barbarians. Theodelinda founded a church in Monza (a few kilometers from Milan), doting it with a rich treasure and vast possessions. Cleverly, she made the church follow the 3-chapters doctrine, a schismatic position that was somehow half-way between Catholicism and Arianism. At the death of Agilulf, in year 616, Theodelinda became regent for her son Adaloaldo. The policy of pacific coexistence, however, was opposed by the Lombard chiefs, who overturned Adaloaldo in year 626. He died a little later, followed by Theodelinda in year 627.
The treasure of Theodelinda is an extraordinary collection of objects that can be seen at the museum of the “Duomo di Monza”. Among the objects donated by Theodelinda herself to the church, there are a precious binding for a Gospel book, a religious crown, a cross encrusted with precious stones, a goblet that was used by the royal couple at the ceremony of their engagement and small ampullas that contained oil from Holy Land. Other objects came from the queen’s funerary set: among them, a splendid group in silver representing a hen with seven chicks. The treasure of Theodelinda includes the famous “iron crown”, believed to contain a nail from Christ’s cross. Despite of the lack of any real connection to the queen, this symbol of royalty, used by German emperors and also by Napoleon, still adds to her myth.
Theodelinda was an influential woman in a society dominated by males and perturbed by violence and war. Her vision of a reformed society took shape centuries after her death, in Italy of the middle ages. Through time, she became a symbol of royalty and religious piousness. Even after all these centuries, her charm still lingers in the vaulted domes of the Duomo of Monza, where the wonder of her treasure reminds us of the woman who is considered to be the first “queen of Italy”.
Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 19 August 2018
Another week flew by. Work continues to be a bear, with relentless pressure from the top…must keep those shareholders happy. I don’t mind admitting that I have refreshed my resumé. Working at this current pace cannot be healthy, but I’m not sure any place else will be much different, or better. It’s part of the insanity of ‘merica, where the rich get richer and the poor die trying.
All this to say that, coupled with my dive into my ancestors this month, I am even more aware of how fleeting life is. I am growing less patient with willful ignorance and outright stupidity, less loyal to an employer who, for all their “go team” blather would replace me in a heartbeat without batting an eye…or not, and instead dole out my duties to the poor schmucks left behind to save money on payroll.
Despite all that, I am learning to live in the moment; to look for glimmers of hope and light. Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t. I am actually finding the perfect balance of zen and bad assness. It’s something I believe we need more of in these trying times.
Because I have news for you. The ugly, mean people don’t respond to kindness. They are getting meaner by the day, and we are so past the point of trying to understand why they’re so angry. They wear their anger like a badge of honor along with their red MAGA hats. If they give up their anger, what do they have? Only themselves to blame for the vile demagogues they’ve elected…but they’ll never admit it.
Nope…the best thing I can do is tolerate them, or not, I really don’t care if I offend them these days, and retreat to my corner when I need to breathe. I’m doing that more often these days and I’m thinking it’s not such a bad thing. Have a good week. I hope you take many good breaths this week. You deserve it. 😊
Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 August 2018
tree strong, sure, with roots meandering deep
No one ever calls me Miss…
legacies to be recalled by generations hence
i understand
Damn full moon.
gruesome scene…they forced him in, until he burst!
a full life they all lived then to the nunnery they fled
legend has it, have you heard, so they say…
of cockles and shell shards; the sea
with no lick of lack
breaking free takes strength
forgotten? I think not! with these great monikers…
keeping an open heart
with the darkening
remembering things
live and die, no answer for the age-old question…”why?”
~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 works of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over a period time. I use it as a review of the previous week.
August – Stanza 18
too many links on this tree fade, obscure
with nary a flicker of those who’ve gone before
the only living proof of their existence,
their progeny, who share their dna, who’ll likewise
live and die, no answer for the age-old question…”why?”
~kat
For Jane Dougherty’s August Stanza Challenge.
I have a few old family photos of some people I’ve never met, and of my grandparents gone too soon, before I could learn their stories. They are treasures of my past. I suppose that I why I write…to leave something behind for my grandkids.
The people shown above are a part of me. And so life goes on.
Top Left: My Grandpa Lambert Myrman, my Grandma Florence, née O’Malley, my Aunt Dolly holding my cousin Kristy, her husband Dean in back and his parents on the right.
Top Middle: My great-greats the Johansson’s and my Great Grandma Hanna (the youngest)
Top Right: my Great Grandparents, Peter O’Malley and Annie, née Powers
Middle Left: My Grandpa William Cunningham and my Grandma Mary, née Sluka
Middle Right: Grandma Mary’s graduation picture. She’s in the middle row, far right.
Lower Left: Grandma Florence O’Malley Myrman
Lower Middle: Grandma Mary (r) with my mom (girl with black skirt), her brother, Richard and sister, Sylvia
Lower Right: Grandma Mary holding my Mom, Dorothy
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like mercury colliding... 