Category Archives: Random Thoughts and Musings

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse ~ 23 October 2016


Happy Sunday! Can I just say that I LOVE this week’s Shi Sai?! Well, I do! It perfectly sums up the week that was in the wake of this month’s Super Hunter’s / Blood Moon. It’s energy can be summed up nicely by this Rumi quote:

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.”

As different as the posts were this week, when I lifted a line from each, the message became undeniable clear to me. My subconscious found her voice, prodding me to embrace those things that feed my soul!

In truth, I have been moving along this path for a while, but this week’s full moon energy just put a stamp on it. Signed, sealed…it’s time to deliver. And I have never been more ready. 😊

Have a wonderful week!

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse ~ 23 October 2016

“Oh! I’m sorry! Too much? Not enough?”
two restless souls stared at the ceiling
fast asleep
moon-blushed crimson, rooting deep,
shape-shifting shadows
it was a grim sight.
she was beginning to realize, and didn’t mind admitting to herself, that she wanted more
why simply frolick?
sometimes tradition is meant to be broken
listen to the beautiful, deep.

~kat

The Shi Sai, (formerly known as a ReVerse) is a new form I came up with during Poetry Month in April 2016. I’ve actually been writing shu sai for years but was inspired to give it a proper name. It is a poem created by taking one line of verse from several poems of an author’s own collection. The shi sai is done as a review of a series or collection of poems and therefore, each line should flow in chronological order of the dates the poems were written (from oldest to new). The lines chosen should be the author’s favorite from each poem. This form works best if the author resists the temptation to read the full new poem before all the verses have been added. (It helps one to resist the impulse to change a line to make it “fit”.


Rollick – Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku

rollick

In the field of linguistics, when two words are combined into one word, the resulting new word is called a “blend word” or more specifically, as is the case with today’s Dictionary.com Word of the DayDictionary.com Word of the Day, a “portmanteau”. Wikipedia gives an excellent definition with examples for the word portmanteau:

A portmanteau word is a linguistic blend of words, in which parts of multiple words, or their phones (sounds), and their meanings are combined into a new word. A portmanteau word fuses both the sounds and the meanings of its components, as in smog, coined by blending smoke and fog, or motel, from motor and hotel.  In linguistics, a portmanteau is defined as a single morph that represents two or more morphemes. (In linguistics, a morpheme is the smallest grammatical unit in a language. In other words, it is the smallest meaningful unit of a language. The field of study dedicated to morphemes is called morphology.)

“Rollick” is thought to be the result of blending the words “romp” and “frolick”, entering the English language around the early 1800’s.

Were the early 1800’s particularly rollick-worthy? My inquiring mind needed to know! So I launched google in a search of historical events of the 1800’s (or 19th century). Here’s what I found:

Historical Event Rollick Meter
Napolean worked on building his empire conquering Italy, Rome and Spain, as well as transforming France from a consulate to an empire, with you know who as its Emperor! Meh…not so much a rollicking series of events …unless of course, you were Napoleon! Was Napoleon known for rollicking? I wonder…:)
Alexander Hamilton was mortally wounded in a duel (yes, duels really happened… SMH) with Aaron Burr. Not so rollicky for old Alexander, but a good day for Mr. Burr.
Alessandro Volta produces electricity! Definitely a rollick-worthy event! Woo Hoo Al!
The Battle at Waterloo…bub-bye Napoleon! Yes there was rollicking…lots and lots of rollicking!
Lewis and Clark launch their expedition. I’m thinking they may have had a rollicking send off.
Washington DC was established as the capital of the U.S. More rollicking…I’m certain of it. J
In Virginia, Martha Washington set all her slaves free. …and more. Midst the bad and usual ugly shenanigans we humans get involved in…there were definitely some bright spots…most definitely, some rollicking to be had!

This is why I love Fridays!  I learn so much! I hope you have a great weekend. Get out and rollick a bit! See you next week!

To Rollick or Not to Rollick…

Why simply frolick
or just romp, for that matter,
when one can rollick!

kat – 21 October 2016


Seasoning – Part 15

img_7847

“Far, far away Soria Moria Palace shimmered like Gold” Painting  by Theodore Kittelsen

Seasoning – Part 15

Eventually, Henry succumbed to exhaustion. He spiraled into a deep sleep, haunted once again by a familiar nightmare, where he found himself in sight of an elusive glowing city. But this time was very different. He was no longer a young boy but a man, his vantage point closer than it had ever been. In fact, he was actually standing on a cobbled road just a stone’s throw from the gate.

He looked down at his ash smudged hands and disheveled clothing. This journey had been a long and rigorous undertaking. But there, as he basked in the warm, golden glow of the city lights Henry was more convinced than ever that happiness resided beyond the gate because she was there.

Consumed by longing, he unconsciously wrestled with the bed covers. As he tossed between wakefulness and sleep they seemed to be the only thing keeping her from him. Finally, Henry cried out to her, his lover, his soulmate,“Hannah!”

************************************

The full moon lingered mid-sky as the sun warmed the horizon, sending streams of amber light through wisps of fog. Mr. Gordon’s rooster crooned a lusty cock-a-doodle rousing Hannah from a sound sleep.

She had already dropped her feet to the floor when the rooster managed a final doodle-do. With breakfast to prepare, she quickly bathed, donned her working dress and smock, and rushed to the kitchen.

Hannah started to hum, hoping to quell the cacophony of images and emotions that swirled in her head. Just before waking she had experienced a most disturbing dream.

andreassen_olav_johan_stormnatten_olje_pacc8a_lerret

Painting by Olav Johan Andreassen “Storm Night”

She and others were caught in a catastrophic flood. The force and depth of the water was so severe that it uprooted trees and dwellings scooping them up and tossing them miles away, along with animals and people too, who happened to be in its wake. The last thing Hannah remembered was being crushed and trapped under a boulder unable to free herself. There at her side was her lover who held her hand as he tried to comfort her. She felt herself fading, her heart breaking, as she looked away. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him, begging her to stay. As the darkness closed in around her, his piercing eyes transformed from pale blue into Henry’s dark eyes,  his voice deepening into Henry’s voice,“I will always love you…I will always love you…”

Hannah stopped humming and frowned. “Impossible!” she said loudly, “I’ve lost my mind. I’m sure of it!”

“Well, I would be happy to help you find it, madam. Your mind that is. Though I find life to be quite delightful if one is able to manage with a few screws loose!”

Startled, Hannah turned, nearly crashing into him. “Oh my lord, you gave me such a fright! I was just getting ready to bring breakfast to the dining room.”

“Well. That, I can help you with!” Henry loaded several dishes, a basket of biscuits and the butter tray in his arms. “Don’t forget the coffee, Hannah. I’m certain that I would still be lazing between the sheets if not for its irresistible aroma this morning. By the way, I hope you fared better than me and got some sleep last night.”

“I’m afraid not,” Hannah lamented, as she followed him into the dining room, “and I had the most disturbing dream. I must remember not to eat a full meal so late at night.”

“Mmmmm, you may be right about that. What I can remember of my dreams last night, is that they were quite strange as well.” Henry bit off a huge corner of biscuit and guzzled a mouthful of coffee. With his mouth still full, he queried, “What are your plans for today, Hannah?”

“Well, there is Helen’s list…”

Henry rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Hannah giggled.

When she regained her composure she continued, “As I was saying, there is the list,” she flashed a coy smile raising a single eyebrow toward Henry, daring him to tease her again, “and then I plan to begin work in the garden.”

“It sounds like a busy schedule. I plan to have a grounds keeping service come to remove the trees that got destroyed last night. While they are here, feel free to employ them to do any heavy lifting you have planned. I also want you to find time to go downtown to the tailor shop. Jonathan Stephens, the proprietor, is a personal friend, as well as the best suit and dressmaker in town. I couldn’t help noticing last night that the fire and rain ruined your lovely dress. The very least I can do is replace it.” Henry’s face softened as he remembered how lovely she had looked.

“Thank you. That is most generous of you,” Hannah blushed, “should I expect you for dinner this evening?”

“I wouldn’t dare miss the opportunity to taste your cooking while it is still hot!  Yes, Hannah, I will be ‘dining in’ this evening. We still need to have that talk.” He reached for her hand, “I hope you don’t mind waiting until tonight. I have an early appointment and need to leave soon.”

“Of course.” Hannah smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. The entire conversation this morning had been all business. She was beginning to realize, and didn’t mind admitting to herself, that she wanted more.

_____________________________________________________________

A Fiction Series that is inspired in part by Jane Dougherty’s Microficton Challenge and wonderful painting prompts. You can read previous parts of this story by clicking HERE and scrolling to the story entitled “Seasoning”.


Twittering Tales #1 ~ 17 October 2016


I love flash fiction, six word stories, three line tales and 100 word stories. These minimalist formats have helped me learn the art of telling stories without a lot of unneeded fluff. As they say, “Just the facts ma’am.” 😊

These days Twitter is all the rage, literally. We pop off loud (all caps), mean, obnoxious, inflammatory rants. Fortunately, the Twitter “powers that be” had the wisdom to limit us to 140 characters. Thank you Twitter goddesses!

As one who loves a good challenge, I thought, what if we tried to tell a story in only 140 characters, prompted by a photo or painting? Wouldn’t that be fun?

So, here is my 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 atcharactercountonline.com.

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

To get this challenge started here is today’s prompt:


And here’s my twitter tale:

It was a grim sight. The first victims of the plague had turned to stone, ghosts who held too tightly to the past, now doomed to repeat it.

kat ~ 17 October 2016
(139 Characters)

The rest of the story…a bit of background on today’s prompt:

I found this intriguing photo, taken by Marczoutendijk, at wikimedia commons. The bronze sculpture, by Peter Nagelkerkein, was unveiled in Nuenen Park in the Netherlands, despite the vehement protests of residents who considered it ugly. Interestingly, the painting that inspired the sculpture, called “The Potato Eaters” by Vincent Van Gogh, also met with resistance  when it was unveiled. Seen as rough, dark and ugly, many believed it veered too far from the brighter impressionistic genre of the day.  Van Gogh would later write to his sister, saying that he considered this piece, his first official painting, to be his best work.

Obviously, my story has nothing to do with peasants or potatoes. But that is the beauty of art. It’s that “eye of the beholder” thing. So, what do you see? 🤓


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse ~ 16 October 2016

I am so grateful for today, for this day of rest, for the beautiful blue sky blushed gold by the sun, for the cool snap of autumn in the breeze.

How I wish I could pull blankets up to my chin, stretching my feet to the end of my bed where the sheets are soft and cool and just stay here. I’d like to turn it all off…the cacophony of insults, lies, malice and discontent. The ugly sight of the world imploding all around me. Just for a day.

At least in looking back at the words that managed to spill from my brain I can sense that there is hope. I’m going to hold that thought as I head back into the fray this coming week.

There is still and always hope.

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse ~ 16 October 2016

I grieve for the leaf who’ll never reach home
(You don’t want to blend completely.)
I suppose the end justifies the means
a little hope is all
I was just thinking.
those who persevere
bien que nous cacher au monde
though we hide from the world
it’s not mutable
we can depend on this truth
a handful of us will always believe
as if they could quiet
her beautiful pure spirit,
the treatment involves your heart.

~ kat

————————————-

The Shi Sai, (formerly known as a ReVerse) is a new form I came up with during Poetry Month in April 2016. I’ve actually been writing shu sai for years but was inspired to give it a proper name. It is a poem created by taking one line of verse from several poems of an author’s own collection. The shi sai is done as a review of a series or collection of poems and therefore, each line should flow in chronological order of the dates the poems were written (from oldest to new). The lines chosen should be the author’s favorite from each poem. This form works best if the author resists the temptation to read the full new poem before all the verses have been added. (It helps one to resist the impulse to change a line to make it “fit”.