the icy tip of Reaper’s sickle lightly tapped her shoulder yesterday her breathless voices gently whispered, “winter is coming”, she heard Hel say
oh hush you pounding pitter-patter elephant dancing upon her chest it’s just a passing ‘bleeping’ blip but maybe it’s time for her to rest
let someone else with nose to grindstone deal with the dread deliverables the Piper’s fluting, shrill, pricks her ears background ‘music’ to this crucible
forced to face the inconvenient unpaid debt now due Mortality, “it’s much later than you think, my dear” youth is but a fleeting memory
Shadow follows close, a breath away she’s not ready to engage Her yet ‘she will survive’, the mantra of her life drives her in this battle to the death
~kat
NaPoWriMo 2022 - Early-Bird Prompt - I decided to do a rhyming poem that borrows some style quirks from Emily Dickinson and her poem “Because I Could Not Stop Fo Death”.
The artwork is a little something i whipped up in a drawing app on my phone…my canvas is digital these days! ❤️
hello there dandy, first to bloom, with golden mane, frosted lightly, buttons of tiny petals to parasols of gray, taking flight one day on bursts of breath whispered softly to a crystalline sky… it would seem you are more than a nuisance, a weed deeply rooted, it is you who dares to bare your face, to rise, to shine in the light of the worm moon, to announce the coming spring… a dandy-lion who dallies with tempests, only to be plucked from the loam, soft, downy, feather-light, ripe for the kiss of wish-makers, to dance for wide-eyed innocents who dare to dream
i’ve been watching the great oak in my yard for several years now… she doesn’t play by the rules of autumn, clinging tightly to faded, parched leaves against the fiercest of tempests, through ice and heavy lobs of wet snow, though her branches may bend to almost breaking, she holds fast i don’t know what to think of such a tree, is it vanity, stubbornness, a lapse of memory? for as sure as summer drifts to autumn and autumn to winter, spring will come as the sun grows warm and days grow long, life will begin to surge through her veins causing buds to burst, at long last setting their departed siblings free to ride the wind, to taste the earthen loam, to rest, to rest in peace in a sea of greening
i’ve been known to be stubborn, to cling too tightly to things not meant for me, to useless longing for what once was, my memory forgetful of the struggles of those glorified once upon a times, and time again i have been known to stand full-faced against a tempest, convinced i held on and on for virtue’s sake, believing martyrdom raised me up, oh there it is, the vanity, how loathsome to be a tree that can’t let go when letting go is one’s very destiny… letting go to ride the wind, to fall to pieces, to trust the seasons, to know that whatever is left of me is all i need and here, now is where i’m meant to be
the night lingering into day…no consolation when death comes a-calling
~kat
Magnetic Poetry - Poet’s Kit
2022 has been the year of the reaper in our little menagerie. First to fall, our sweet 18-1/2 year old diva kitty, Casey, on January 14th and next to succumb, was our 8-1/2 year old hunk-o-love, big boy Maxwell on February 22nd. The gray sky and rain are cooperating oh too well with the drama of it all. I’m a bit of a mess, especially around mealtime. Two less bowls to fill…:( Hug your fur kids, your kid kids, your grandkids, big kids, little kids…or find a tree and hug that. You never know…you just never know…RIP my lovelies…
I stopped blaming the muse a long time ago. It’s not her fault, my aversion to upstopping my mind and letting the words flow like raindrops, like they once did. I left myself behind in pieces, managing the simple routines that got me by for these past several years in holding. Years of wandering, wondering, worrying, angsting, working too hard has gotten the better of me and I was quite content to lock myself away in shelter while the plague ravaged the outside world. The beautiful words that once swirled in my head begging to be released in prose or poetry muted to a whisper…only a few blips managing to break free in the past year and then some. Seasons have come and gone, children have been born, cherished pets have crossed to the other side, and I still work way too long and hard, but I am not content to let this wave of apathy have the best of the best of me.
How I have missed this place and you…and for that matter, me. I’ve spent the past week or so rereading my own words. I suppose it is my way of trying to find myself, to breath life back into my heart and mind…and it may be working. It got me to this page…it got me through almost a year of blather, sparce as it was. What resulted had much to say to me. “Whisper the answers you seek”…I am whispering, but know I will not be content until I am once again shouting from the tops of the trees…and so there is only this for now. Precious words gleaned from the gray…no promises of more to come…know it is my heart’s longing to return.
A Year in ReVerse
oh i can list a few reasons
soft as a whisper,
or not...i forgot
days of rain, incessant raining
maybe not, doesn’t matter much now,
sing the song of the night
dreaming in green
the world turned blue
the page, left wanting
sunlight lingering into the evening,
i dress myself in tears these days
winter coming soon, too soon, just saying
hard to let go when the sickle falls
memories of seasons past,
whisper the answers you seek
when all that is left of us is dust
~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.
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!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kat Myrman and Like Mercury Colliding with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
like mercury colliding... 