Category Archives: Reverse Poem

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.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse -12 August 2018

I’m sure there is a message somewhere in today’s ReVerse. In fact, I can feel it. Several of the verses are lifted out of my daily stanzas. This month I have chosen as my daily theme, the stories of my ancestors.

Fast forward to 2018. If one reads the lines below, taken out of context as a whole, applied to the present time, I think the lesson is clear, if not a bit cliché. “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” We have heard this saying over the years. It is coined to make a point, especially when things feel out of whack and off the progressive course, where leaving things better than we inherited them is being derailed by our worst selves. The quote is in fact attributed to George Santayana (16 December 1863 in Madrid, Spain – 26 September 1952 in Rome, Italy) who was a Spanish-born, philosopher, essayist, poet and novelist. He lived in America from the age of 8, though he never become a citizen, and established himself as an esteemed professor in the philosophy department of Harvard where he himself graduated. Never married, he return to Europe later in life. The quote above can be found on page 284 of “Reason in Common Sense” the first volume of five from his greatest work, “The Life of Reason”. In its entirety, it is “sometimes considered to be one of the most poetic and well-written works of philosophy in Western history.” (According to Wikipedia)

If we take an honest look ourselves in the mirror it is easy to see that we are doomed, so to speak for ignoring our history while at the same time clinging to an idealized version of it. Yes, a reread through the lifted lines from the past week’s work below makes it perfectly clear. Though we have sought to amuse ourselves by stumbling down into a rabbit hole, we are now discovering that it is, in fact, a black hole in disguise. We do seem to be imploding. So sad, but perhaps needed in order to set us back on track. Have a great week. I’ll leave you with this poem from George…

There may be Chaos still around the World

BY GEORGE SANTAYANA

There may be chaos still around the world,
This little world that in my thinking lies;
For mine own bosom is the paradise
Where all my life’s fair visions are unfurled.
Within my nature’s shell I slumber curled,
Unmindful of the changing outer skies,
Where now, perchance, some new-born Eros flies,
Or some old Cronos from his throne is hurled.
I heed them not; or if the subtle night
Haunt me with deities I never saw,
I soon mine eyelid’s drowsy curtain draw
To hide their myriad faces from my sight.
They threat in vain; the whirlwind cannot awe
A happy snow-flake dancing in the flaw.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse -12 August 2018

around the time when separatists sought freedom
was his name, a roving love philanderer
we sipped tea here, from porcelain cups with pink roses
penned in history’s tomes the story of a clan
came on horseback through the town, they say, naked
some city folks pot bright flowers in their concrete spaces.
are we there yet
but what of peace…love
makes his bed, alive for centuries, not dead
hence ended by his bastard son, poor fellow
After days of sweltering heat, even the seashore was little relief to beach-goers…
cast time in shadows
rendezvous en rouge
that most of us will fade into obscurity…
she is not whispering
i have loved like a fool

~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 words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 5 August 2018

So…yep, last week was not the greatest of weeks. I give it a three. In other words not a total wipe out, but as weeks go, I’ve seen better.

It should not be at all surprising that today’s ReVerse has a mean, melancholy streak. It’s weird how that happens. Try as I might to infuse each day’s verse with happy thoughts, affirmations and the like, the truth niggles its way to the surface. It’s like a gray funk that disturbs my serene surface; like those globs of sludge jiggling on a stagnant pond, bits drifting on the breeze, splattering into oblivion. Yep, this past week was ugly like that…don’t ask.

But next week will be better. How can it not be? So please forgive this week’s dreary dirge. There is hope. Call me crazy, I still hope, even in the darkest of times.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 5 August 2018

the alchemy of magic thrice infused
three dimensions mete where flat planes meet air
there is no truth
the power to overcome
it won’t do any good
plead the fifth, to any third degree
before the harbor maiden raised her beacon
denying the adoration of those poor
in the dumps, in a blue funk
come and gone, sparks of light,
lay the bones, worm-stripped bare, no trace
who settled scores, who buried men alive,
the roses have gone
through our fingers

~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 words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 July 2018

I love this week’s ReVerse! I had set for myself a daunting challenge: to write a trio of terza rima stanzas exploring things that slip between the cracks, which of course, they don’t really do, because the cracks

ARE the in between abysses where we lose things. Cracks between the cracks, as it were. That is to say nothing is truly lost to us if we are paying attention.

And pay attention I did this week, to the ‘nth degree. Rather than being exhausting, it was inspiring. A prime for the old pump. I even managed to tackle all my favorite challenges this week, save my own “word of the day” musings. To be honest, the words of the day have been at best, meh, lately, so I’ve given it a rest. This week’s word was punnet, a small container or basket for strawberries or other fruit. Um, so ok. Now you know. Not much more to say about that. 😉

But back to today’s ReVerse! Did I happen to mention how pleased I am with it? Of all the words I wrote this week, these lines are some of my favorites. They play nicely together, don’t you think? Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could all do a reverse and together, get along? Yes, wouldn’t that be lovely.

Have a great week. There are only three more days of Terza Romas to explore…hmmmm, three. Hold that thought. See you on the flip!


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 29 July 2018

remembering when that tree was still green
in the beginning…us, I remember
with you, I would go
no one will remember your words
a swift swing of a bat rendered them headless.
there’s still life left in what some throw away
for these days pennies don’t amount to much
slow turns the screw ‘til truth cannot exist
lounging in streams of sunlit bliss
which makes me wonder
precious treasures overlooked, throngs unfazed,
fair-haired ladies in waiting,
in these trying times
“How much farther?”
“Is that a thing?
between, in darkened cracks where stuff falls through
forever, when they’re botched.
i never wanted to
i live for the sweet
the sun shining too bright
blue, red crush, misting

~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 words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 22 July 2018

What is there to say about this past week on the world front? I chose not to go there in verse…at least I tried. But how could I not watch with horror, the train wreck happening and treasonous actions of our president…yes I said it…treason. How else can one view his willingness to hand over US government officials, who Putin disdains for apparently playing a role in Russian sanctions, to be interrogated by Putin’s thugs.

Whether Trump “would” or “wouldn’t”, it was clear from Putin’s puffed chest, command of the event, and evil smirk during their press conference, that he had strong armed trump in their two hour tête-à-tête. Trump belongs to Putin. We suspected as much. It was confirmed this past week on the world stage. And lest we forget, young children still remain prisoners in black government sites and un-vetted foster homes across the country while their parents rely on the mercy of strangers to untangle them from red tape. Fortunately, I didn’t go there this week!

No, rather than writing about headlines, I decided I would focus on finding Merak. And I like to think I did find glimmers of Merak each day. Boy did we ever need it this week. It ain’t easy being woke. And that said, my daily Terza Rima this week will slip between the cracks to see what we find. It will take some diligence to find a thing overlooked a day. Today’s was easy…and sets the stage for the rest of the week. I pass by the empty house in the photograph on my walk every day. Even the tree in the front could not sustain life once its owner passed away.

Sometimes it’s not the things that happen on the world stage that matter the most, but rather the tiny shifts behind shuttered doors that cause the earth to quake.

Have a great week. I’m off to discover the overlooked and forgotten…


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 22 July 2018

to fly above the earth, a bird’s eye view…
with my feet, deeply rooted like a tree
i probably shouldn’t be
we whisper in the shadows,
come out
with grace to bend when tempests storm the night
a rhapsody of words
stardust and sinew meld beneath my skin
cicadas’ shrill diminuendoes troll
the sun rises here too
amaranth tendrils pierce through lace-trimmed trees
but looks can be deceiving
threading the needle
it helps to be woke
at long last, i am flying on moonbeams
like fingers of light
they never listened

~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 words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.