Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 7 April 2019

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Happy Sunday! Spring’s persistence is evident in the earthy aroma of rain-drenched sod, bulbs sprouting, birds chattering, squirrels scampering, and the subtle shift of the breeze from frigid to warm, tossing bud dappled trees. 

It’s National/Global Poetry Month. My usual micro-poetry dailies have been replaced by a variety of challenge responses. All this makes for an interesting ReVerse. Each line still represents the past week’s stream of consciousness, however with the added topical constraints imposed by the challenge. That is not to say you still can’t find me between the lines. This week, and for the rest of the month, you will get a glimpse into the me that rises to the challenge on any given day. It’s not forced. Just a different view. 

It is proof of my resilience. At least that’s what I’m claiming and clinging to. Because aside from my blog life, this past week posed a number of challenges that might have set me back had I not learned over the years to live in the moment. A close friend was hospitalized, my bank account was hacked by a cyber criminal wiping out my balance. I have spent hours on the phone with fraud units, police dispatch, venders, to clear my name, while keeping up with my friend’s ongoing serious health concerns, and narrowly averting a blown gasket in my van…and the subsequent repair that set me back several Ben Franklins (fortunately before my account was cleaned out).

Life. It goes on. I’m a survivor. I have this moment right now, writing to you on my laptop, my big slobbery mutt Maxwell cozied up next to me. It’s all good. And I have words…and more poetry to write.

Peace to you. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s moments like this…it’s moments like this…:)


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 7 April 2019

fluttering its delicate wings
from the ooze, greening,
to leave the nest, literally,
cadaverous, calm,
it evolved after humankind died
I could never bring myself to say it
every day is blurred
nothing to be alarmed about just yet, but
it’s been several years since they’ve been by
they’ll paint us crazy, dupes at best,
leaving others unmoved
regret, the past can’t own me

~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.


no regret – NaPoWriMo #6

no regret

i don’t care to entertain
or name the what if only’s
wondering may well beget
regret, the past can’t own me

~kat


…and just for the sake of “if”, I’m resurrecting a free verse poem from the archives:

lunacy

if you were brave
i could tell you who
i really am
jot my truths and epiphanies
like a grocery list
or like laundry, wet and
beleaguered hang
myself out to dry
it is troubling…normal
doesn’t fit my vocabulary
or my soul

call me lunatic
manic or insane but
i have noticed
the same wind catches
some leaves of grass
leaving others unmoved

kat 2001


For NaPoWriMo #6 Prompt: write a poem of the possible, a poem that emphasizes the power of “if,” of the woulds and coulds and shoulds of the world, I am trying a new form I found. The Awdl Gywydd, a Welsh form pronounced “ow-dull gee-youth” has the following rules:
• Four lines
• Seven syllables per line
• The final syllable of the first and third lines rhyme with the 3rd-5th syllable of the following lines
• The second and fourth lines rhyme and the a and c rhymes can slide a little. Here’s an example:
xxxxxxa
xxaxxxb
xxxxxxc
xxxxcxb


slaughtered history – NaPoWriMo #5

slaughtered history

it was the age of foolishness1
that’s what the history books will say
all this happened, more or less2

they’ll paint us crazy, dupes at best,
the folks who lost their minds and way
it was the age of foolishness1

mistreatment of the poor, oppressed,
innocents lost, locked away
all this happened, more or less2

our frozen hearts put to the test
found wanting, as we vowed to pray
it was the age of foolishness1

leaving future kin to guess
how we, so easily were swayed
all this happened, more or less2

leaving them a bloody mess
with astronomical debt to pay
it was the age of foolishness1
all this happened, more or less2

~kat


Not my favorite form, though I might have liked it better if not for so many added restraints on the form. Still I managed to pen a villanelle: A1bA2 abA1 abA2 abA1 abA2 abA1A2 where letters (“a” and “b”) indicate the two rhyme sounds, upper case indicates a refrain (“A”), and superscript numerals (1 and 2) indicate Refrain 1 and Refrain 2,  for NaPoWritMo #5 Prompt: write a poem that incorporates at least one of the following: (1) the villanelle form, (2) lines taken from an outside text, and/or (3) phrases that oppose each other in some way.

Outside Verse References:
1-Tale of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
2-Slaughterhouse-Five – Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

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photographs – NaPoWriMo #4

photographs

my walls are covered with photographs
milestones of my life, of family
silly, happy smiles that make me laugh
precious moments, captured memories
if you visit you’ll notice them all
framed in glass, prominently displayed
in hopes their subjects might come to call
and know they’re with me every day
faded images, collecting dust
it’s been several years since they’ve been by
i’ve haunted  social media sites just
to see what’s new in their busy lives
time moves on, it’s memories that last
my walls are covered with photographs

~kat


A sonnet of sorts…rhyming with 14 lines in response to today NaPoWriMo Challenge Prompt: write your own sad poem, that achieves sadness through simplicity. Playing with the sonnet form may help you – its very compactness can compel you to be straightforward, using plain, small words.
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It’s Been Three Weeks, But Who’s Counting? – NaPoWriMo #3

Just Three Weeks, But Who’s Counting

it’s been three weeks, actually,
19 days, 6 hours and 27 minutes since
the spot made its villainous appearance,
19 days, 6 hours and 29 minutes since
“your doctor will be calling you,” the
technician said, careful not to spoil
the surprise…but she knew…she knew

what a wonderful day it was, it will
be etched in my memory forever, one
day I’ll say I knew her when…my
granddaughter, she was magnificent
in her school play…it wasn’t a speaking
part, mind you, but her portrayal of a
tree in the wind…it was breathtaking. I cried.

it was a voicemail on my phone,
a nurse, “doctor so and so would like you
to come in to the office this afternoon”…not
unexpected, the technician had warned
me, she had such a nice smile, kind eyes,
around my age, I’m thinking, we talked
about smart phones as she tugged my
floppy breasts onto an ice-cold plate to be
smashed for their photo shoot, “hold your
breath, 3…2…1” …funny how communication
has changed over the years…

the meeting is at 9:30 tomorrow,
I’ll assemble all the slides for the deck,
clean them up and send them to the
team for a final walk-through…btw…
I need to take a few hours this afternoon
I’ll have my phone with me if anyone
needs to reach me…

“nothing to be alarmed about just yet, but
we’ll want to run a few more tests, an
ultrasound, we can do it in the office today”

an ultrasound…I had those
when I was pregnant…now they’re
doing them in 3-D, you know. It’s like
a snapshot, well, a weird sort of
snapshot, where body parts are
sometimes elongated into distorted
shapes, but so much more advanced
than those first cloudy pictures…even so
two heads were easy to make out when
I found out I was having twins, with
a toddler and an infant already at home
I remember lying there in the dark, crying.

“We’d like you to see a specialist. Tomorrow, 9:30.
Here’s the address. They already know you’re coming.”

I’m going to miss the presentation. Maybe
we can reschedule. Although, they don’t really
need me there. Someone else can present it. No
one is irreplaceable, that’s a fact. I’ll get my
assistant to brief me on the take-aways
tomorrow afternoon. Should be able to keep
my lunch date with mom. Need to remember
to pack that book I told her she could borrow.
Great book, a really great book.

it’s been 19 days, 6 hours and 43 minutes
no news is good news, right? I keep telling myself that.
no news is good news when you’re waiting for bad news
19 days, 7 hours and 2 minutes, a message pinged from
the voice mailbox on my smart phone … doctor so and so’s
office, the nurse again, “no need to come to the office, nothing
to worry about, scar tissue was all it was”…who was worrying?

~kat
NaPoWriMo #3 Prompt: Meandering…to write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time. Perhaps, as you do, you can focus on imagery, or sound, or emotional content (or all three!)

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