Category Archives: Random Thoughts and Musings

Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 September 2018

It’s just words. Sticks and stones…but words…oh yes, words, silly words, how they bless, affirm, empower, indict, illuminate, question, and reveal the very heart and core of us. A slip of the tongue can show us who someone really is. A stroke of the pen, when scrolled in earnest, with excruciating honesty can prick our hearts and move our souls.

I am a writer. I write what I know and feel and am. If not with transparency, then, why bother. Oh I dip my toe into fiction every now and again, but if you read between the lines, I am there, pouring out the words that manifest in my head begging, sometimes screaming to be said. It is no use second guessing the words, razor edged, poignant, magnificent, that must be said. Too much? Too soon? Too revealing? To scathing? Too real? The moment I start censoring myself is the moment I cease to become me. And no one is suggesting that. Well, some are, but I say to those naysayers, be damned.

It’s just words…indeed! Words are everything I’ve learned. Beautiful excruciating words. And I am a writer above all other labels and titles; above all the roles assigned to me: daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, executive assistant, activist, friend. If you really want to know me, read my words. The painful, the snarky, the funny, the heartfelt musings, whisperings. They are not just words. They are everything. They will not be silenced. I will not be silenced. I am a writer.


Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 September 2018

down, down, behind the lace arbor
I am a writer
should be obvious
whoever said “blondes have fun” lied
celebrate those who toil
you can be strong
take care not to linger there
oh god
we’re in for bad weather
crank the cogs to squeeze out a dime
close your eyes now
global warming’s a hoax
right…there is no unless
soul whisperers who bear witness
in a spirit of love
desire for what could be

~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.


September Poem #8

poet
weaver of words
mastering rhymes and meters
soul whisperers who bear witness
silence is not golden

~kat

Continuing the Pensée this month. I really like the syllable count of this obscure little form: 2-4-7-8-6, as well as the theme suggestions:
line 1 is the subject;
line 2 gives description;
line 3, action;
line 4, the setting;
line 5, final thought.

It is also interesting to note the definition and etymology from Britannica.com of the word pensée, which no doubt was inspiration for this form:

Pensée, (French: literally, “thought”) a thought expressed in literary form. A pensée can be short and in a specific form, such as an aphorism or epigram, or it can be as long as a paragraph or a page. The term originated with French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal, whose Pensées (1670) was a collection of some 800 to 1,000 notes and manuscript fragments expressing his religious beliefs. The form was particularly popular in French literature, as in Denis Diderot’s Pensées philosophiques (1746).

Now you know the rest of the story. And I have found one more reason to love this poetry form even more! 😊


September Poem #7

heartless
self-absorbed fool
nothing is more important than
well, you know who, unless, of course…
right…there is no unless

~kat


September Poem #6

summer
relentless heat
endless days dogged by humid,
sweltering, torridity, but
global warming’s a hoax

~kat


Hush-A-Bye

Photo by Gah Learner

Sarah knew that moments like this were precious. She didn’t mind the late nights, especially when the breeze was cool and the moon was full.

Holding her in her lap rocking was a peaceful time even on those nights when she was fussy and fretful. Sarah just kept rocking. Sometimes she would sing her favorite song to help her drift back to sleep. She slept more often these days. Her frail body eaten away by cancer.

Once upon a time ‘twas her mom who rocked her to sleep on nights like this.

“I love you mama. Close your eyes now.”

~kat

100 Words for Friday Fictioneers inspired by this photo by © Gah Learner.