Category Archives: Poetry

Decisions…Decisions…Decisions!

Like waiting…
for paint
to dry…or
water to
boil….or ice to
melt. Take your
pick…whichever
fits…no! Never
you mind…
sometimes, all
I really need
to know
is what
you’d like
for dinner!

kat~2015


chaos theory

 

it is said that the flutter
of a butterfly wing can cause
a typhoon on the other
side of the world. i don’t
doubt it. for i have
witnessed with my own
eyes and felt the seismic
rumbling deep in my
heart, events of equal
magnitude. the changing of
the seasons, tides ebbing
swell from mere hints
of moon glow, seedlings
that burst from darkness
to light, single raindrops with
power to unsettle still
stagnant pools, whispers
that tune the ear to
higher frequencies, a kiss
on the forehead that
tingles the toes, breath
infused life, unremarkably
constant, until in an instant
its final exhale. There may well
be butterflies on some
distant shore shifting the
breeze into torrential
fury, but my own undoing
happens in the flutter
of an eyelash.

kat – this 3rd of july 2015


On Hoarding Grace

graceburst

The sun does shine
on all, the greatest to the
small. The breeze…it
tousles flowing tresses, blades
of grass, majestic trees.
The tides shift sand as well
as stone, and earthen beds
of fecund soil embrace
the seeds of weeds
amidst more cultivated
blooms. Stars shimmering in
the firmament, grant wishes for
a dream. The moon reflects
both light and dark, her crescent
ticking new to full to new
and back again.

With nature’s unconditional
example, then who am I but
egoistic flesh, all grace to hoard.
I am a clay-thrown vessel
meant to empty, not fill
to brim, with stagnant stench
lamenting, “more…need more.”

kat ~ June 29, 2015


puddle prod

Photo Credit to Photo Bucket

Photo Credit to Photo Bucket


but there are bills
to pay, and deadlines
to make, promises
to keep, and rules
i can’t break.

i’m polished and
pressed and coifed
to a “t”, can’t mess
that all up, i am
what they see.

yet there past a
raindrop bidding me
“come” is an ankle
deep puddle just
looking for fun.

my head’s in a
spat ‘tween my heart
and my soul…hey, that’s
two against one, can’t
resist…here i go!

kat on a rainy friday in june 2015


Coffee Perks

coffee

There are days when waking
is an effort. Routine
and muscle memory spins
into overdrive piloting my
extremities…mechanics in
motion, this and that and
then some, only to find
myself parked
behind three walls, cubicled,
computer screen prompting, blood
rushing to my gut as I
realize I don’t remember
how I got here.  This is
why coffee at the
office is not a mere
perk, but a necessity!

kat – June 2015