Kat’s bird-feeding station in the Bramlett Mountain foothills – Spring 2022
The silence on my page might imply that I have not been writing much this week. But in fact I have written words every day. Verses, poems that went unfinished because I was distracted by the news of the day and all manner of war…against a sovereign democratic nation…against truth…against democracy itself…against women, most achingly distracted by the war against women in my own country, and feeling powerless to stop the coming tidal wave…as heartless people in power check us off, one by one. They won’t be satisfied with one victory…subjugating women, but will surely move on to dole out equal shares of misery on minorities that make them uncomfortable…people of color, LGBTQ people, non-evangelical christian people…who else will face their wrath before their thirst for blood is quenched? And even now, still, I wonder about the children…always the children who were ripped from their parents at our southern border. I pray for them every day.
It’s a wonder I managed to write anything at all this week with this garbage swimming in my brain. So in the spirit of getting it out of my notebook and onto a proper page, this is a good time for a ReVerse. Would that I could reverse the cruelty of the humans who inhabit this planet…
I saw my first indigo bunting at the bird feeders yesterday…and a scarlet tanager…and a red breasted grosbeak. This is a first for me…three more beauties came to call, in person, just outside my window. All coexisting with the other birds, rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels and deer who happen by my little bird feeding station every day. You know, Nature has been doing this much longer than we humans…living in harmony…in balance. We could learn a thing or two. All this to say…that wee flash of brilliant blue…my little friend, the indigo bunting gives me hope.
And with that…here’s the ReVerse of this past week’s poetry that I was unable to finish…
A ReVerse Poem From a Week I Wish I Could Reverse
i don’t want to write about this there once was a town full of fools true power doesn’t need to boast we have forgotten what normal is a moment, just a moment take true power’s not up for debate imposing their will on others until remember all lives, but only if you’re white, matter, the rest are on their own disdained after their first breath, barefoot, pregnant, pregnant, pregnant, pregnant heartbeats matter, breathing not so much don’t ask, don’t tell i don’t mind an overcast day or two breathe in, breathe out, you need a break give it a rest i worry for the innocents but i know the sun is going to rise
~kat
A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) 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.
an activist judge decreed covid’s end no need to wear masks eat, drink, live your life, be free while the plague mutates, raging
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 – Day 26 Prompt: write a poem that contains at least one of a different kind of simile – an epic simile. Also known as Homeric similes, these are basically extended similes that develop over multiple lines.
Off topic…a tanka for today…just a commentary on the lunacy of our times. Science? Reason? Reality? I’m in no hurry to join the lemmings.
the tapestry is unraveling
earthy tones of brown and
tan, yellow and red fading,
white patches soiled from
blood and tears, offering no
warmth, no consolation,
threads splintering, breaking
unable to hold together the
dreams of the innocents
wrapped in it like a shroud…
where are the seamstresses
with steady hands and nimble
fingers, trembling with needles,
eyes too narrow to thread, to
mend the tatters, to scrub
the fabric clean, to restore
the tapestry, or better yet,
to weave a new cloth, one
that is brilliant, softened
with batting, large enough
to cover all who slumber,
to shield us from nightmares,
from the darkest of nights,
to bring us safely to the dawn
we’re hanging by a thread
tossed by tempests, trembling,
chilled to our bones
while the world burns
~kat
Crawling out from under my rock. Sorry for my recent silence. I confess that I have been overwhelmed of late by what’s happening to our brothers and sisters of color, to those sick and dying from the pandemic, from the lies of our leaders, from the hate ravaging our streets, disturbing the ardent pleas of peaceful protesters, from sheltering in (sheltering…what a benign word…sheltering). I have struggled to find words, forgetting that it is words that save me from the abyss; that help me get out of my head. I hope everyone is staying safe and well. I hope…at least I am trying to even as the dawn seems so very far away. Peace ✌️
my Instagram is filled with names
of voyeurs that I do not know
prospective followers of mine
but I’m not sure they’re who they claim
with avatars from photo stock
and handles oft’ misspelled and lame
it could well be that they are bots
ill-intentioned moles whose aim
is not in my best interest, trolls,
prospective followers of mine
denied, I’m on to their deceptive game
~kat
(Thank goodness for screening filters!)
Magic 11 poem – my variation on the Magic 9 poem, a 9-line poem that doesn’t have any rules as far as meter or subject matter–just a rhyme scheme: abacadaba. Enter the Magic 11 abracadabra poem with the r’s intact, placeholders for a refrain. Rhyme scheme: abRacadabRa. (R for the refrain).
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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