Category Archives: Random Thoughts and Musings

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 March 2017


Another week, another Sunday. It was an emotionally exhausting week. I realized late on Friday that I have been holding my breath since November. Well, not literally of course. That’s not something I would recommend. But I have been holding my breath, figuratively, watching the world crumble with each executive order, congressional bill and lie that has gone unquestioned and unchallenged.

Some of us dodged a bullet this week. We, as in 24 million people still have healthcare; we, as in senior citizens, immigrants, the mentally ill, refugees, women, mothers, and those who hope to be. It was a tiny victory, but the battle rages on. While I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, the world lost innocent souls to terror from radicals as well as from coalition forces. “Bombing the hell out of them…” as our fake president likes to boast, is not a sustainable nor advisable foreign policy, especially when innocent victims are part of the collateral damage of such actions. It only makes things worse.

I breathed on Friday. For the first time in months I didn’t feel helpless or hopeless. Resistance to this speeding runaway train is not futile. Still, those wielding power in the name of privilege, greed, hate and yes, even religion, will not let go of the reigns willingly. But they mustn’t win. It’s personal. It’s important that those who are suffering know that they matter. It’s important that they feel loved and that they know there is a seat at the table for them, for all of us. Because we’re in this together; because…Love is all. ❤

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 March 2017

what are your intentions?
it is the sweet things
heaven’s awaitin’
selling love over death
death disguised herself in fleeting sweetness
sometimes what you search most for
(is) first to root in frosted earth
breeze by, nose upturned,
they whisper in soft kisses
sleeping with me, then leaving,
what was it with these people
proving they are fools
especially one whose gentle nature informed her conscience early in life
Love is all

~kat

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A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer,providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week. 😊


Esoterica – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku

esoterica.png

Happy Friday. Today’s Dictionary.com word of the day is Esoterica. But I couldn’t resist the word of the day for yesterday…Throttlebottom (Definition: a harmless incompetent in public office.)! What an awesome word. Oh how I wish we used these types of words today. How enjoyable the nightly news would be if our journalists embraced some of the other obscure, descriptive words featured as words of the day. I wish I had time to research each one. Here’s a sampling of the last week or so…

Breaking news from kat’s imagination: “Today was a most cimmerian day for the nation. The halls of congress were a-twitter with crocodilian calls for justice in response to the latest canard from our vaunting, throttlebottom of a president. Meanwhile the lotus-eaters were oscitant to this developing malfeasance.”

Even if the news is bad, at least it would be entertaining.

But back to our official word of the day, Esoterica. It is a noun that evolved from the Greek adjective esōterikós which means “belonging to the initiate, inner, esoteric” with a “distinguished history in ancient Greek philosophical systems (Pythagorian, Aristotelian, Stoic).” The English noun form is attributed to poet Ogden Nash who used the term in a 1930’s poem published in The New Yorker, referring to the obscenity trials over James Joyce’s Ulysses. It is defined as things understood  by or meant for a select few; recondite  matters or items.  Or curiosa (books,  pamphlets,  etc.,  dealing with unusual subjects, including books, pamphlets, etc., containing pornographic  literature or art; erotica).

I like this quote from Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events, “Life is a conundrum of esoterica”.  It literally means that life is a confusing and difficult problem, question or riddle, understood by or meant to be understood by a select few. I think it captures the meaning of esoterica perfectly!

Unless of course it is a skin cream. Esoterica the moisturizer promises to lighten dark (brownish) areas on the skin, such as freckles, age and liver spots and other skin conditions that result in localized high concentrations of melanin.

Or a Black/Heavy Metal music band called Esoterica from Pennsylvania…or the now disbanded UK Christian rap/West Coast hip-hop, Dance/Electric band called ESO for esOterica…or the name of a secret cult of humanoid characters, with access to alien technology, able to span dimensions, called the The Flame Keepers’ Circle in the gaming world’s story of Diagon. But I digress. 🙂

My job today is to come up with a haiku using today’s word of the day…Esoterica. Skin creams, Metal/Alertnative/Rock bands and video cult circles aside, I am mulling around the idea of applying estoterica to the current secretive nature of our government. With the added bonus of yesterday’s word, throttlebottom, you get a two-fer this week. Have a great weekend!

daft throttlebottoms
bellow esoterica
proving they are fools

kat ~ 24 March 2017


Twittering Tales #22 – 21 March 2017

About the challenge:  Each Tuesday I will provide a prompt, and your mission, if you choose to play along, is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less.

If you accept the challenge, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing us a new prompt.

Have Fun! 🙂

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Twittering Tales #21 – The Round Up

Photo by Pixabay.com

Last week’s tales are fabulous! We even had a few new folks join us. Who knew that antique typewriter had so many stories to tell? Apparently you all did! Thank you to everyone who added their voice to the conversation.

From Michael at Morpethroad

If only, if only,
that one elusive word.
willing it to leap out
I know it’s on the tip of my tongue.
I wonder, could it be?
Darling, I need you!

(139 Characters)

From Nicola at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller

Horror-scope
The typing started at 11:58pm. It stopped at sunrise. Some found my luck unnerving, some mind-boggling. My morning preface never let me down

(140 Characters)

From Irena at Books and Hot Tea

She typed, sighed, and crumpled another paper. The typewriter wanted to sigh, too. It could tell her what to write, if only it could speak.
(140 characters)

From Lady Lee at Lady Lee Manila

One simple word that shouldn’t be taken for granted. Once that is lost, it will never be the same again. The ground for respect – TRUST!
(136 Characters)

From Peter at Peter’s Ponderings

It starts with one word
which nobody heard.
’twas typed by a ghost
and sent in the post.
The ghost, a poor sinner
was hailed as the winner!

(135 Characters)

From Jane at Jane Dougherty Writes

Hemingway, in the heavenly Writers’ Corner, sullenly one-finger types, shooting murderous glances at the newbies with their Mac Books.
(134 Characters)

From Martin at Martin Cororan Blog

Every morning the same missive: “Is that you Jimmy? I know you poisoned me! Goddammit! Why couldn’t I have possessed something with Wi-Fi?”
(139 characters)

From Kirst at Kirst Writes

each letter a clatter
word follows word
aching fingers growing stronger
stories gradually getting longer
word after word after word

(130 characters)

From Di at Pensitivity101

Writer’s block.
Everyone gets it.
Inspiration would come through sleep.
When she awoke, the prompt was there.

(106 characters)

From Kathryn at Another Foodie Blogger

As punishment for texting in class I was told to sit down and finish the sentence. I couldn’t find the return key.
(114 Characters)

From Mick from Mick E Talbot Poems

GUILTY
it caught him out
forensic evidence
it was the type
the crime plagiarism
his words not my typing
case now closed
he got done for swiping
not typing

(140 characters)

From Sangbad at Thoughts of Words

A missile impacted somewhere nearby. The flame of the candle quiver. She needs to complete the next episode to earn bread for few more days.
(139 Characters)

From Patty on Twitter @pjstemple

She warned she’d speak. He laughed as if to challenge her. She relished the feel of the keys as she typed the first word: Abuse
(127 Characters)

From Reena at Reinventions

It starts with one word – dreams. It grows into ambition, success, greed, obsession or crime. The end depends on how the world reacts to it.
(140 characters)

From Bikergurl

If only you’d write the words to set me free. Instead, you allow me to languish without you in obscurity – longing only for your touch.
(135 characters)

From Carol at Writing and Works

It started with one word. What it was exactly, I can’t remember. The world perhaps. The universe? This? Us? All of it from one, little word.
[140 characters]

From Lorraine at 25 Words More or Less, two very different tales.

It starts with one word, whispered. More words, voices create hateful sentences, paragraphs of lies. Fiction becomes fact; untruths become real. (142) [21]

Ancient artifact captures the imagination of an inquisitive child. Taloned green fingers tap rhythmically on rusted keys. (120) [17]

From Deek The Cool Bookworm at Jot the Thought

He found the old typewriter in an attic. He began writing. As his name features on the bestseller’s list, his grandfather beams from above.
(139 characters)

From The Grateful Dead

It starts with one word…it ends with one too. LOVE – a complete story in itself.
(82 characters)

From Francine at Woman Walking Max

“Horror-scope”
Madame Clair Voyant ” for you I see woes, money troubles, your home gone. Georgina ” George the bailiffs are outside! ”
(96 characters)

From Julia at Trailing Something

I write what people tell me, whether that comes from their hearts, souls, minds, or a God above. I don’t know why or what point I’m making.
(139 Characters)

And from me

The former owner of the old house was a writer. Ten years after his death he finished his novel. The author’s name? Ghostwriter, of course!
(139 Characters)
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Twittering Tale #22 – 21 March 2017

I can spend hours looking at photos for the prompt each week. Eventually I know I’ve found “the one” when I keep going back to it. That’s how it was with this week’s photo from pexels.com. I love the bright, mismatched clothing that this old woman is wearing. She is very spring-like. Or maybe she’s a witch or an angel or just a crazy old bird lady. Who is she? What’s in that satchel she’s carrying? Where is she going or coming from? Help me solve the mystery with your twittering tale this week. I have to warn you though. You may find that you have more to say about her than a tweet allows. I know I did. But remember you only have 140 characters to bring her story to life. Most of all, have fun. I can’t wait to read your stories. 😊

Photo from pexels.com

My Take…

Eternity’s Midwife (Dedicated to some compassionate Hospice volunteers I have known.<3)

Miss Nellie had a way with birthin’. “Laboring takes long as it takes,” she’d say. When time came she’d sigh, “go on now, heaven’s awaitin.”

(140 Characters)

~kat


Seasoning – Epilogue

Summer’s Day in the Flower Garden by Robert Payton Reid


What started as a simple Microfiction Challenge became a story that had more layers to tell. Thank you to everyone who has followed me from the beginning as well as those who discovered it midway through. There is one more chapter to tell. I give you Seasoning, the Epilogue. Read the rest of the story HERE.

Epilogue

It had been months since Helen boarded a train leaving Hannah and Henry with her blessing. Seeing her brother so happy made her happy. “What a lovely young woman she is,” Helen had thought as she waved goodbye through her cabin window. “They will be fine,” she smiled contentedly.

As the train pulled away from the depot, Hannah had slipped her hand into Henry’s. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”

Henry squeezed her hand and smiled, “Yes it is Hannah. Is it too soon to tell you that I love you?”

Hannah blushed, “No Henry. I love you too. What do we do now?”

“We live Hannah. We get to know one another. We embrace each day and we care for each other. Does that sound alright to you?”

“Yes Henry. It sounds wonderful to me.

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Winter seasoned into spring. Hannah spent every free moment in the garden. She hired carpenters to build several arbors, one at the entrance and a bench arbor in the middle of the garden. A slate stone walkway meandered throughout bordered by herbs; sweet basil, parsley, dill, anise and lavender. Beds of fragrant plumeria, freesia, lilacs and lilies, and amaranth, sweet peas and zinnias dotted the space. Climbing rose bushes clung to the arbors and wisteria hung gracefully from the iron fence that surrounded the garden. Trees flanked the far edge; apple, pear and dogwood. As a final touch Hannah added several bird baths and decorative pottery.

Spring crept toward summer. The garden erupted into beautiful blooms. Hannah and Henry’s love for each other blossomed as well. They spent hours together. Henry’s heart, once shut down and broken, opened in ways he never imagined possible. Laughter and life had returned to the once dusty dark halls of Chamber House.

Hannah’s parents George and Elizabeth came to town to meet this man who had captured their daughter’s heart. Like Helen, they recognized the bond between the two immediately. They loved seeing her daughter so happy. George was especially impressed with Henry and the way he treated his only daughter. They had concerns though. It was not proper for them to be living in the same house feeling as they did for one another.

After lunch, Henry asked George if he could have a private word.

“I am so happy to finally meet you and your lovely wife, sir,” Henry smiled, “I believe Hannah has told you about us.”

“She mentioned it,” George nodded skeptically. “Tell me young man, what are your intentions?”

Henry sat up straight, “Sir, I love Hannah very much. I would like to ask you for her hand in marriage. I promise I will care for her for as long as I live. She will never want for anything, sir.”

George sensed that Henry was sincere. With a tear in his eye he spoke softly, “Son, I’ve never seen my Hannah so happy. I do believe you love her. Of course you have my blessing. Take care of her.”

“I will sir. Thank you sir!”

They rejoined Hannah and Elizabeth in the parlor. George winked at his wife and smiled. Immediately she understood.

With her parents as his witnesses, Henry bent down on one knee in front of Hannah, “I can think of no better time than while your parents are here…Hannah, I have a question to ask you.”

Hannah shot a glance at her parents who were sitting nearby, tears in their eyes, holding each other’s hands. “What is this about?” She asked, looking at them, then back at Henry, who had reached for her hand.

“Let Henry finish,” Elizabeth said, smiling assuredly at her daughter.

Henry continued, “Hannah, I feel as though I have been searching for you for an eternity. When you came here I was a broken man. I still can’t believe you stayed after those first days. I was such a beast. Eventually though, I came to see you for the beautiful woman that you are. Now I can’t imagine life without you. I love you Hannah. Be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed mischievously, “You were a beast! Absolutely incorrigible!” she frowned.

Henry blinked, holding his breath, hoping.

Hannah grinned, “Of course I will marry you!” she gushed, “I love you Henry, with all my heart and soul. Nothing would make me happier than to be your wife!”

They embraced, completely oblivious that Hannah’s parents were still in the room. George conspicuously cleared his throat reminding them. The four broke into happy laughter.

“Well, it looks as though we have a wedding to plan,” Elizabeth announced.

And what a wedding it was! Set in the garden while it was still in bloom, Henry and Hannah vowed their love and devotion to one another in the presence of family and friends.

Theirs was a love that had spanned lifetimes. They had suffered a bitter ending once, a lifetime ago, that had left them with unfinished hopes and dreams. But this day the fates had smiled upon them. This day, they embarked on the next chapter of their lives, together at last.


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 March 2017


Happy Sunday. Though I try to spin goodness and hope into my day to day I must acknowledge the fact that I am also a creature of my environment. I imagine that I am given a clean slate to write upon each morning, new in its graces, but it is not long before I realize how daunting that is. It is a balancing act on a fragile tight rope. It is exhausting. It’s impossible to blot out the never-ending stream of lunacy that bombards me even on the sunniest of mornings. Even if I try avoid all media and the cacophony of negative spin, lies and negative vibes, it is always there. Reality.

How does one rise above? How do I continue to press toward the light when I know that darkness is an inevitable end of each day. This week we turned our clocks forward to save the daylight, but the night still comes, cold, dark, sometimes scary, haunted by shadows that block streams of artificial light. Even the moon is a reflection. Try as I may I cannot hide from the darkness of the night any more than I can hide from the dark elements of reality.

But I’m still an optimist at heart. It’s there. The ugly. It will always be there. At the risk of appearing totally bonkers I still greet the blank slate I am given every morning with hope because beauty, goodness, love and truth are also realities in this crazy world of ours. They may be harder to find in the harsh light of day or hidden in the shadows of the night, but they’re there too. Today, every day, has great potential.

I leave you with this week’s Shi Sai and the paraphrased words of the Wizard of Oz, “Pay no attention to the frantic little man behind the curtain.”

Have a great week. Spring is almost here! 🌱🌸🌻🌸🌱
Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 19 March 2017

like breathy kisses
the old house was a writer
ever chasing the light
those who twist the truth
impossible to hear
it’s better this way
a fading memory
set in rock and sand
blossoms of love
from heaven’s vantage
stones etched mysteriously
eden softly dawning

~kat

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A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer,providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week. 😊


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