Category Archives: Quatern

Somebody

‘You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.’ —W.B. Yeats

she was somebody’s somebody
before the great unraveling
a loving soul with grace to spare
a heart of love, overflowing

she was known by many a name
she was somebody’s somebody
a daughter, sister, mother, friend
a welcome guest and confidant

then a tempest, fierce, chaotic
ripped through the world, left from right
she was somebody’s somebody
her children scattered to the wind

these days she clings to memories
hope can be a cruel reminder
but she still loves with grace to spare
she was somebody’s somebody

~kat

A Quatern for Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats: Day Fifteen, inspired by today’s quote from the ‘The Rose of Battle’.


harvest ode

harvest ode

mirror mirror in the sky
truth’s reflection burning bright
stars align, emotions swell
some find comfort, others, hell

ours is not to run and hide
mirror mirror in the sky
call forth authenticity
shed the dross to set us free

mend our cold uncaring hearts
light our path when days grow dark
mirror mirror in the sky
tame our tongues when curses fly

heal our broken disconnects
all’s not lost; oh no, not yet
there’s still time to set things right
mirror mirror in the sky

~kat


Mothers and Daughters

barely a woman, girl-child, mother
she gazes into her daughter’s eyes
soul deep pools of ebon wonder
rockabye, sweet dream, lullabies

toddling sprite, she lives to hold her
barely a woman, girl-child, mother
exploring together, all life’s treasures
fierce protector, prone to hover

years soon pass like fleeting seconds
tears of joy, consuming anguish
barely a woman, girl-child, mother
left to tend an empty nest

bittersweet, the blooming season
wings now flexed, she yearns to fly
some return, but others wander
barely a woman, girl-child, mother

~kat

A Quatern for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the collage above and Sylvia Plath’s beautiful verse.


The Untied States of ‘Merica (No, it’s Not a Typo)

Photo by Ottavio at Pixabay.com


The Untied States of ‘Merica (No, it’s Not a Typo)

I don’t think you’re evil, I don’t
misguided, blind, naive perhaps
and I’ll just say it, I am hurt
to learn the things that you believe

when did the rock-a-bye bough break
I don’t think you’re evil, I don’t
when did we cross that great divide
where no one wins and wrong is right

I’m not sure how to fix this mess
not sure that we should even try
I don’t think you’re evil, i don’t
but you, but we, are different now

and I suppose it’s for the best
we’re not the first to meet this fate
when ideology meets hate
I don’t think you’re evil, I don’t

~kat
(A Quatern)


Growing Up Crazy

there were lucid happy moments
i remember them oh so well,
fishing for pike in northern lakes,
Gun Smoke reruns in black and white

learning to drive, taking the stage,
there were lucid happy moments
hid in closets praying for sleep,
Midwest tornados, swirling rage

pyramids and razor blades,
Doe’s Motel homeless, swimming pools,
there were lucid happy moments
jumping from window fire drills

mania trapped in dark light strobe
how does one escape it unscathed
retrospect gleans the good from not
there were lucid happy moments

~kat
(A Quatern)

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy. I hope you found the peace that eluded you in life…


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