As proof that you can find glimmers ANYWHERE…I present to you my creative furball heaving feline, Frankie’s latest late night creations. I may be losing it! 🤣🤣🤣 But you gotta admit it helps to be a bit loony in times like this.
Feline Furball Gallery by Frankie
Big Bird on a Bonsai Tree ~circa 2025 artist: Frankie
The Thin Man ~circa 2025 artist: Frankie
I hope you are inspired and amused by these amazing works of wretching art.
eye of the beholder
when the world turns dark glimmers of light may be found in absurdity
much love, peace, and glimmers to you. May you find a way to create lemonade from life’s lemons…or in my case discover the artistic talent of a simple house cat with a weak stomach…May glimmers of light and humor happen to you when you least expect it and when you need it most!
grandma always said that we should never tell a lie she spoke with wisdom, so we listened and obeyed the truth always comes out, she’d say, don’t you even try grandma always said that we should never tell a lie you can spot a liar, they won’t look you in the eye eventually you’ll find you can’t believe a word they say grandma always said that we should never tell a lie she spoke with wisdom, so we listened and obeyed
~kat
The lies are overwhelming. It’s all lies now. And the liar in chief is telling his followers how to deflect questions seeking the truth by repeating the latest fabrication. It feels chaotic and crazy for those not deceived by this common snake oil hawker looking to line his pockets from the suffering of others.
I didn’t think it was possible, but it does appear that the chief liar is running out of lies. When everything is a lie, people stop listening and start paying attention to what is happening in reality. They realize that they are not immune from the consequences of bad, cruel, and destructive policy. Policy that sounded good, that they voted for when it was directed toward other groups of people. Truth eventually comes to light. I learned this when I was a child. It is stunning to witness this in real time. To witness a liar drown in the overwhelming power of truth rising.
Speak truth to power. It’s never been more important.
Much love, peace, and glimmers of truth to you!
When my soul returns generations from now I would like to inhabit the body of a pampered dog…like my Gabby. She had a rough beginning, but boy did she hit the jackpot.
invisible people have privileged gray lives they never get angry or give in to strife everything’s rosy, yes, everything’s great they’re quick to admonish those battered by hate who dare to feel angry at those who don’t care dark souls who surrendered to king yellow hair not enemies, they chide, we’re all the same treat all with compassion, there’s no one to blame but I have a feeling that they’ve never known the sting of oppression, of hate in their home from people they loved who don’t seem to care that the vote they cast hurt family somewhere forgiveness is bitter for those now denied simple compassion and the right to live life we don’t want to hear it, your lofty ideals til you walk in our shoes and know how it feels when half of the world thinks you shouldn’t exist the audacious preach virtue in ignorant bliss
~kat
A rant today. I read a well-meaning post on social media that struck me the wrong way. It had a long-winded “why can’t we all just get along” vibe. Heart-felt and a tad naive, its message was also condescending to those of us with bullseyes on our backs. Those of us targeted as other, undesirables who, if the powers that be had their way, would be disappeared from the face of the earth or at least from this country. Condescending…because we’re not allowed to be angry or hold those responsible for this dumpster fire accountable. Admonished to keep the peace. To get along. To forgive and and show compassion to those who would point us out in a heartbeat if it meant finding favor with the powerful in the hopes that they might reap the benefits of the coup they helped fuel. It’s convenient to forgive and forget when you’re not living in a nightmare.
So I wrote a poem…therapy that rescues me from responding directly to such blather. I’ll crawl back under my rock now, and tuck myself in behind the closet door, hoping the monsters don’t find me.
Much love, peace, and glimmers of hope to you. As it happens I was visited today by several mourning doves. Often seen as a symbol of love, hope, peace, and new beginnings, I think mother nature knew I would need some encouragement today. ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
~kat
A little love, hope, peace, and the promise of new beginnings…today’s much needed glimmer.
we have good neighbors here…we rarely see each other, but if we need them or they us, we’ve an open border policy where fences are for leaning while talking about life and the weather
~kat
Living in the hills is a breath of fresh air (literally). Unlike our urban friends whose homes are packed tightly into neighborhoods, with walls and windows mere feet apart, artificially lit by humming street lamps, the scent of exhaust fumes and hot rubber settle in the air, the rural space I call home are green, our neighbors, acres away, rarely seen but occasionally heard on crisp quiet nights when sounds carry in the mist…blips of muffled conversation, laughter, the sound of tires crunching gravel driveways.
It it understood, that we look out for one another. Not in the creepy, peer through shades, nosy neighbor way, filling one’s head with juicy gossip to share at the quick stop. I may only see my neighbors these days a few times a year, but we are community.
Isn’t that what we all want after all? A place to call home, to live out our pursuit of liberty and happiness in peace. Somewhere in this devolution of our humanity we’ve lost our way. It’s ironic to me that living so far from civilization makes me feel less alone than I ever felt in the city. Here where scarce neighbors are neighborly and kindness is an unspoken code.
much love, peace, and glimmers of community to you!
~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Sijo
A sijo is a traditional Korean poetic form, characterized by its three-line structure. Each line typically contains 14-16 syllables, resulting in a total of 44-46 syllables for the entire poem. The first line is introduces a theme or situation, the second line develops it, and the third line introduces a twist or unexpected turn, providing the poem’s conclusion.
tell me something anything that might convince me you have a soul…I don’t know you
~kat
One day I hope those who voted for what is happening in this country see the truth. Until then, I grieve for the people they were. I grieve for the people who are suffering. I grieve for what our nation could have been if not for a madman at the top with an army of cruel followers intent on destroying all that is true and good and honorable.
I am so grateful for the beauty that surrounds me. For life emerging all around. For glimmers that give me hope that there is still goodness in the world. Today’s reminder came in the form of a tiny sprouting banana tree leaf. In one day’s time it grew from a nib to a sprout.
Much love, peace, and glimmers to you!
~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Fibonacci poetry was founded by Gregory K. Pincus last year as a 6-line poem that follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllable count per line.
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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