Category Archives: Random Thoughts and Musings

Manic Monday – Forlorn

manicmondayforlorn

Forlorn

white satin
letters written
beauty missed
with these eyes
what the truth is
I can’t say ‘cause
people can’t
understand
what you want
in the end

breathe deep
the lights fade
people look back
and lament
useless
spent

Lovers, lonely
for love,
cold-hearted,
rule the night
which is an
illusion

~kat

A Black Out Poem for Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt based on the word “Forlorn”, the photo above and the Moody Blues song, Nights in White Satin (Lyrics below…I love that song!)


Moody Blues – Nights In White Satin Lyrics

Nights in white satin, never reaching the end,
Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send.
Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before.
Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore.

Cause I love you, yes I love you, oh how I love you.

Gazing at people, some hand in hand,
Just what I’m going through they can’t understand.
Some try to tell me, thoughts they cannot defend,
Just what you want to be, you will be in the end.

And I love you, yes I love you,
Oh how I love you, oh how I love you.

Nights in white satin, never reaching the end,
Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send.
Beauty I’ve always missed, with these eyes before.
Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore.

Cause I love you, yes I love you,
Oh how I love you, oh how I love you.
Cause I love you, yes I love you,
Oh how I love you, oh how I love you.

Breathe deep
The
gathering gloom
Watch lights fade
From every room
Bedsitter people
Look back and lament
Another day’s useless
Energy spent

Impassioned lovers
Wrestle as one
Lonely man cries for love
And has none
New mother picks up
And suckles her son
Senior citizens
Wish they were young

Cold hearted orb
That rules the night
Removes the colours
From our sight
Red is gray and
Yellow white
But we decide
Which is right
And
Which is an Illusion

Songwriters: Justin Hayward
Nights In White Satin lyrics © T.R.O. INC.


Autumn – Stanza 5

around the time when separatists sought freedom
from the crown, a ship, the Mayflower, set sail
across the ocean blue, amongst its passengers,
a girl named Mary, of renown, so claimed,
the first to step on Plymouth’s rocky shore

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Stanza Challenge.


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.


Saturday with the Muse

another day sifts
through our fingers
a thousand stars to
wish upon…if only
they were listening

moss covered rocks
line the garden
the roses have gone
to seed…soon leaves
will fall, a-withering
rustling on the breeze

~kat

Magnetic Poetry Online


Autumn Stanza 4

once upon a time lived a viking maiden fair,
princess, Kievan queen, woman scorned, a saint,
who settled scores, who buried men alive,
set flocks affire, razed a town, my dear great
grandma, Olga, was the baddest fox around

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Stanza Challenge.