Category Archives: Poetry

After the Rain – Magnetic Poetry Saturday

beautiful quiet comes
after the rain as
clouds grow softly
into blue and light falls
like tendrils blanketing
me in deep peace

kat – 19 November 2016


Juvenilia – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku

Juvenilia.png

Another Friday, another interesting word of the day from dictionary.com:

Juvenilia means “youthful (works)” in Latin. It is the neuter plural form of the adjective juvenilis, a derivative of the adjective and noun, juvenis, “young, a young person (ie., between the ages of 20 and 40).” It entered English in the early 1600’s.

When I read the origin of this word, I found it interesting that a “young” person is considered, according to dictionary.com, to be between 20 and 40. I can think of several young authors, much younger than 20, who have had a profound impact on the world.

heartsongs

I think of Mattie Stepanek, who wrote “Heart-Songs” and four additional books of poetry before his death  from muscular dystrophy just before his 14th birthday.

 

dorothystraight
And then there is Dorothy Straight who wrote “How the World Began” for her Grandmother at the tender age of 4! Perhaps not particularly profound, but notable for the fact that she is considered one of the youngest published authors.

 

annefrank
And of course, many of us are familiar with Anne Frank’s, “The Diary of a Young Girl”, the heart-felt words of a young author who filled the pages of a diary that she received on her 13th birthday while confined to an attic before her family was betrayed and sent to a concentration camp during the Nazi regime. Sadly, Anne succumbed to Typhus while imprisoned, but her diary was found by her father, Otto, the only survivor of his family, and published in 1947. It has been translated into more than 60 different languages.

 

I’ll stop here. There are many other wonderful books by children, wise beyond their years. Wise perhaps because they have not yet learned to filter truth and reason to make it palatable to overly-sensitive ears. How I love the unabashed honesty of children. We would all do well to discount the common saying, “children should be seen and not heard” and give them a listen every now and again. We might learn something.

Especially during these interesting, and for some frightening, times, I’m dedicating this week’s haiku to Miss Frank…

Ann Frank’s diary,
a wise juvenilia
holds truth for our times.

kat ~ 18 November 2016


Breathe New – Haiku Challenge

cloud24

new day dawns
on a whisp’ring breeze
breathing life
————————
new things will frighten
those who like familiar things
breathing helps let go

kat ~ 16 November 2016

A few haiku for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge, prompt words: Breathe & New.


Luna

her name is Luna
some say she has a man-face
others, cows and spoons
but who else but a woman
can shift the tides with a glance

kat ~ 15 November 2016
(Tanka- 5/7/5/7/7)


The Walls We Build


I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Arranging travel for executives
Typing their profiting plans bits by byte
With a few quick breaks to brew myself tea

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Answering phone calls with veiled pleasantry
When asked for favors, I serve with a smile
Hoping to mask my deep fear from their gaze

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Lost in the hum of my blessed routine
Locked in a prison of my own making
Where I feel safe from their gloating eyes mocking

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Outed by friends who boast my deep secret
Hoping to prove they are not like the rest
Those who’d deny my rights as a human

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Collateral damage, votes cast in fear
closet doors open whispering my name
Still I resist their safe promise and yet

I hide in a cubicle, dawn to dusk
If I had money I might build walls too
Oh, in my own way I’ve done this, it’s true
But I don’t feel safe from danger that looms

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Doing my job and paying my taxes
Wondering where they will be on the day
I cease to be safe despite what they say

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
Wondering who I should fear and who, trust
Minding my business, yet knowing I must
Open my heart to be healed by love

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk
It’s not the ideal arrangement I know
I’m gonna try harder to open my heart
And let you back in, it’s small, it’s a start.

I hide in a cubicle dawn to dusk.

kat – 14 November 2016