flowers in pots on the window ledge of a second floor brownstone, and me knocking on a creaky aluminum screen door, invited inside, to eat cookies with orange juice in a jelly jar my mother would eventually come to fetch me… they were so nice, the neighbors even though I was an escape artist even though I picked a flower from their window ledge garden to give to my mother (I would learn that taking things that didn’t belong to me was bad, and made people sad that day…) I would learn about forgiveness too the next time I escaped, welcomed once again, with cookies and orange juice in a jelly jar, and my neighbor smiling at me from across a linoleum laminated table with an metal rim as we waited for my mother to come fetch me again… a seemingly sweet memory that years later disturbs me as I wonder how did I, a toddler of two or three, have such freedom to wander…
Terrible jokes aside, ages and aging make great poetry fodder. Write a poem about a specific year in your life. It can be an age that has passed and is memorable or one that’s to come that you may be dreading or hope to embrace. / Recommended reading: “At Twenty” by Heidi Seaborn and “Two Months Before My 65th Birthday” by David James
Today’s glimmer…discovering a new bug!
I have photos of bugs and plants and fungi as well as animals that wander the woods surrounding my house in the foothills. I love learning new things. Every day there is something to discover. Today it was a bug. I have never seen a bug that looks like this bug. So of course I snapped a photo of it so I could research it later…
Introducing a Roundneck Sexton Beetle. These are “burying beetles”. Nocturnal, the male searches for a small dead animal and once found, secretes a pheromone to attract a female. Once the female arrives the two of them begin the process of burying the carcass. They will remove the fur or feathers and then cover the bare skin with an enzyme that delays decomposition. The carcass is then formed into ball with a nesting chamber hollowed out in the middle. This is where the female will lay her eggs. Once the larvae hatch she rounds the brood up inside the carcass and then unlike other burying beetles both the male and female will eat from the carcass and then regurgitate the food for the young. This little bug is truly gruesome and fascinating. Now you know!
yeah…I’m gonna pass… the next apocalypse, that is it’s exhausting get the vaccine, or not wear the mask, or don’t whatever you do, don’t get bit, zombie cooties are lethal let us not forget, “you know who” with his itchy, little fingers has the nuclear codes now and he’s not afraid to try them…oops clean up on aisle 47…
instead, join me in the bliss of the present moment I’ll bake us cookies we can sip tea and watch the sun rise…and set dream of nothing not even tomorrow, because tomorrow’s not promised to any of us…apocalypses come and go, but the question, the question always is, did you live in full, the life you’ve been given… don’t answer that just do it, leave the zombie slaying, and apocalypse surviving to those who believe it will make a difference because the truth is… no one gets out of here alive
Think fast What would you save from apocalypse? What’s in your Noah’s arc or “just” in your car fleeing from some emergency? You have 10 minutes to gather your “valuables.” Write a poem about your most precious belongings. / Recommended reading: “Writing Poems in the Middle of a Catastrophe” by Özge Lena
I didn’t forget today’s glimmer. There is no pretty photo to share for this glimmer. I started the day like I usually do. Walked Gabby (my pup), fed all the critters under our roof and tossed a few peanuts outside for the crows, and then, I gifted myself with a morning nap. I slept deeply until noon. I had chores to do, and I got to those, but those few extra hours were lovely. A gift to myself. And a reminder to myself and you, dear reader…self-care, no matter how that translates to you, is not an indulgence, but it is essential to keeping you, you.
much love, peace, and glimmers to you. Take care of you! We need your light in the world!
I felt her watching, ignoring us, glaring, judging, hating our perceived sinfulness, determined not to serve us as if serving us somehow condemned their fragile faith and threatened their entry into heaven I tried to ignore her we just wanted pancakes for breakfast when I was sick the ER desk clerk asked, “who is SHE?” SHE will need to wait outside family only…but, she IS family the doctor won’t see you if SHE is in the room I try to ignore them I just wanted her with me when I was sick the whispers, snide side glances accompany our travels, wherever we go…we second-guess safety make mental notes of unsafe people and places…they claim we have an agenda, that we threaten their families…but we are a family we try to ignore them we just want to live our lives they voted for fools you know the ones who enjoy dividing us the ones who want to tell every he and she how to live and who to be…the ones who want us to suffer and we wonder, how could people who say they love us, choose them we can’t ignore them anymore our lives depend on it
~kat
Today’s Glimmer…The Eight-Spotted Forester Moth. This one’s a beauty. Often mistaken for a butterfly because it travels during the day. Symbol of transformation, beauty, and the importance of embracing change.
Identity politics poetics There’s lots about ourselves that we can’t (and wouldn’t want to) change. Some of those things put us at risk in a culture that, more and more (I’m looking at you, America), “others” all but the straight white male able-bodied experience. It’s critical that we document what that’s like to live with that reality. Maybe you experience harm from -isms or -phobias or maybe you experience privilege. Either way, write a poem related to how perceptions, assumptions or cultural “norms” impact you. / Recommended reading: “evening : girl” by Gabrielle Brant Freeman
what if it was impossible to tell a lie? would we say less to each other? would we avoid the hard conversations? or would we finally become real… able to look into the eyes of that face in the mirror with acceptance, embracing all that we are, all that we hope to be? what if we weren’t afraid to say what we feel, what we need, what we think, what we know is true imagine the freedom of fully trusting in absolutes, in right and wrong, in light and dark, day and night, imagine how the world might be if the history we tell ourselves and our children actually happened, the good and the bad, no judgement, but used to apply lessons learned to make the future brighter, a gift to our children and their children… once upon a time when someone told the first untruth we lost our way because lies grow like a cancer until the truth is impossible to know how different would life be if we could start over refuse the lie that some lies are okay commit to what is real and right and true I can only imagine it… can you?
~kat
today’s glimmer
love’s tree
if love were a tree she’d be two trees intertwined from root to blue sky
~kat
NaGloPoWriMo 19 April 2025 prompt from gooduniversenextdoor: We’re making it up as we go along “If only….” or “Suppose….” For today’s poem, let’s suspend reality and write a poem that starts with a preposterous notion… then follows it. / Recommended reading: “Invisible Nests” by Kelly Madigan and “Restaurant of Dreams” by Robert Okaji
it’s not junk everything is a necessity that I might need one day I promise you I am not a hoarder tape, loose change, keys yes, I need those random keys in case something is locked and I need a key flashlight…a must have in a blackout or nighttime walks paper clips, rubber bands you don’t need them until you do multi-head screwdriver because chapstick, hand sanitizer, gorilla glue pencils, pens and post-it notes too yes, yes, yes I need it all sooner or later or sometime or yesterday I am not a hoarder…I’m not and it’s not junk
~kat
Spring is most certainly coming. I was a bit worried as winter overstayed its welcome. The trees stayed winter-bare longer than usual and I wondered if the winds and storms of this past season had taken a toll. I shouldn’t have worried. Nature is a well practiced in the change of the seasons. And the trees? They’re finally showing signs of life…greening. As chaotic as the world is right now, I need normal more than ever. Our mother, Nature, knows how to nurture us. Today I am so grateful that I can count on that.
Much love, peace, and spring glimmers to you!
~kat
NaGloPoWriMo 2025 Day 18 Prompt from goodunivervenextdoor: Contents may settle during flight…Choose something from your purse or wallet, a desk drawer, a coat pocket, a coffee table, medicine cabinet, or something similar, then write a poem about what it holds. / Recommended reading: “I Wake up in the Underworld of My Own Dirty Purse” by Karyna McGlynn and “Inside My Lola’s Handbag” by Michelle Peñaloza
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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