Tag Archives: digital art.

a long past due ReVerse poem

a long past due ReVerse poem

glowing red at dusk
this IS…NOT NORMAL!
they say truth is dead
in the grave, clock ticking
be present
in the breach between good and evil
the hot truth screaming
touches my heart and soul deeply
my friends don’t say much
they are roaming the neighborhoods now
living their best lives
in high-octane liquid form
so many words
horrible truth bleeding out…
a pulse detected
the other crows watched
silence is not an option
sometimes a glimmer is a cold dark night
reclaiming the inheritance of the meek
it’s why they come here
this life is not a battle to be won
just past full
breathing sweet fresh air, and birdsong
late afternoon sun
most reasonable, relatively sane people would agree
seeking refuge from oppression
whispering softly
it’s never too late to do the right thing
it is a rare thing
they light the night sky

~kat

As you can see it’s been a while since I posted a ReVerse. I believe it is serendipity that steered me here. In bits and parts the lines above would have had the same impact in the story that it tells. My country is not okay. And I refuse to look the other way and be silent when anyone…when any living precious soul is suffering at the hands of our current lawless, vindictive, soulless, hateful government. I can’t travel, or get out to protest like I used to when I was younger. But I can write. Years from now when I am gone, it is my hope that my voice finds its place in the chronicles of this dark time. Not only my take of what is happening, but the glimmers that sustained me and filled me with hope.

much love, peace, and glimmers to you,

~kat

✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨

Speaking of…her are a few glimmers from the past month or so!


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. I use it here as a review of the past several weeks.


refugees and rumors

refugees
.
blue
eyes and blond hair,
traits
inherited from
my ancestors, foreign refugees,
who dared
to hope in Liberty’s
promise of freedom,
compassion,
opportunity…
.
from across the ocean they came
with dreams for a future, a fresh start
they put down roots and worked hard,
found a home here, raised a family
not unlike
today’s
sojourners
seeking refuge from oppression
only to find
the Lady immured

~kat

I have decided to stop counting the days. It took me days, the entire week actually, to scratch this bloody commentary of a pi-sequence poem (3.1415926535 8979323846 for the syllable count each line)

It’s exhausting here in the trenches watching everything implode. My heart breaks daily for the victims of cruelty and hate.

I manage to get up everyday, tend to my animal friends, and work, but the darkness only seems to get darker. It’s hard to ignore. Hard to feel anything but guilt that the scourge hasn’t reached my door yet. Most of all I am horrified by the way we are treating each other…especially children. Those who claim to support life, clearly don’t. Their concern ends at birth.

I wrote another poem… an acrostic…

I heard a rumor…

It’s about time…
Most reasonable, relatively sane people would agree
Presidential immunity is over
Elections are not for the overtaking
And democracy is not for sale
Congress is finally waking up, ready to
Hold this corrupt dictator wannabe accountable

Tell DJT and his sycophants it’s over
Restore decency and justice for all
Undo every vile executive order that
Made him and his ilk richer…declare
Power to the people where it belongs

~kat

I do hope the rumors are true and congress follows through.

As for glimmers. Just because I am not counting days does not mean I’m not paying attention and looking for glimmers! If I can hold onto a glimmer of hope, show compassion and kindness, even if it feels inadequate to counter the relentless onslaught of terrible…I have to trust that it is enough. Especially if I’m not the only one glimmering.

So yes, I also have a few glimmers to share. They are both tiny. Sometimes tiny is best because it forces you to notice…to lean in,

We have babies of various forms,,,


day 377

A Moment of Clarity ~ Storm Sage, Virginia January 2026
no plan z
.
when
my best laid plans
fail
again and again,
forced to let go my best intentions,
face truth,
and accept reality,
how grateful am I
for moments
of soft clarity
reminding me how small I am
reminding me to embrace the truth…
this life is not a battle to be won
but an clear invitation to remember
i am one
with all
that I am
the calm before, and the tempest,
made of stardust
one with all living things

~kat
A pi-sequence poem. Syllable count: 3.1415926535 8979323846

Life has been a bit of a blur lately. The foothills where I live has been visited by Fern and Sage (don’t let their sweet names fool you…these girls were quite tempestuous!) over the past week and a half with temperatures deep and frigid. 

I immediately snapped into survival mode keenly aware that I am a caretaker to not only my menagerie of furry, feathered and finned aquatic friends, but my disabled spouse who depends on me to provide for and protect. In no way am I complaining. It is a labor of love to care for my little family.  I did what I have always done as a master-survivor. I assess the situation, come up with a plan, and execute the solution. It has worked for me over and over throughout my life. But this time as I worked through plans A, B, C, and on, just when I thought I had a clear directive, nature reminded me that I clearly did not. 

Hitting a wall will wake you up. I had to accept the reality that we are snowed in until nature turns up the temperature and melts the snow and ice that refuses to play by my rules. As far as I can tell, that means another week or two stranded. Plows cannot clear our steep driveway. I know this because they told us so. “So sorry…good luck!”

When you get to plan Z there is only one thing you can do. Take stock of what is, and make the best of it. During this exercise I realized what a blessing i am receiving when I took stock of the reality of our situation. 

  • We are safe and warm with no power loss (I’m knocking on wood as I type), and the investment we made this autumn of a battery operated gas log system for our hearth ensures we will have heat if the power does go out.
  • We have food and water to last a good long while.
  • We have friends who can meet me at the road and neighbors just past the fence who can get out and about if I need essentials or medicine from the store.
  • I have snow cleats for my boots to help keep me upright when I need to trek across the property. (Thanks for that tip last year Peter!)
  • We have each other and our beloved animal family, and lovely friends and neighbors.
  • And finally, when I was forced to stop surviving…I realized the incredible beauty around me, the gift of peace and presence, and the assurance that we would be okay. We have all we need to be okay. 

Some of the blessings…glimmers if you will ✨💚✨

And so I settled in, baked my first loaf of artisan bread in a new Dutch oven I was gifted at Christmas, and made a big pot of chicken soup. Oh, and I binge-watched the entire first season of a series I had been wanting to see but never had time for, with Gabby my pup napping next to me. 

Instead of cursing the weather, I settled in to our haven on an impassable hill during ice and snow, in the midst of trees. And I finally feel like I’ve come home. 

Much love, peace, kindness, and gentle glimmers to you!

~kat

✨✨✨❄️💚❄️✨✨✨


day 376

First Ballet Lesson.
rights of passage

she
doesn’t know the world’s
burning
everything is pink
her innocence intact, fiercely protected by her loving parents
all parents
hope as much for their children
it’s why they...it's why we come here
promised by Liberty
that the pursuit of happiness
could be ours too, once upon a time
when tutus, bunny-eared hats, and Spider-Man backpacks
were protected rights of passage for all

~kat

5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos was abducted by ICE from his school in Minnesota. He was used as bait to lure his father outside where he was taken into custody. Liam and his father are now at a Texas ICE facility. His father had applied for asylum at the border, and has no criminal record according to their immigration attorney. He was doing all the right things like immigrants from centuries past have done to become a citizen.


Today’s poem is a tale of two young children. One, my great granddaughter at her first ballet lesson. The other, young Liam, whose only crime is the color of his skin and his country of origin. Both of these angels are glimmers. Both deserving of love, compassion, happiness, opportunity, safety, and respect. I pray everyday for the children. For every single one.

Much love, peace, and glimmers to you.

~kat

✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨


day 371

I wrote two poems today. They follow along the same theme. I can’t decide which one to post. And because I hate having to choose, I choose both. I am distressed by what I’m seeing from Minnesota. And the vicious added insult to injury wielded by our unhinged, vindictive government. I read that they are here in our town too. Someone recorded them, posting a warning to us on social media platforms. No one is safe.



heartbeats

a pulse detected
means very different things
to different people
to some it’s a right to life
to others, countdown to death
the dearest price paid
oftentimes by women,
by mothers denied
healthcare and autonomy
to assuage fragile man-boys
with power to choose
which heartbeat deserves to live
women, mere vessels,
repositories for sperm,
expendable, when too loud

(this poem follows the pattern of a trio of tankas)

——————————————————————————————-

when the worst thing isn’t

it snowed at dawn
for only a few minutes
no delicate flakes, just
pellets of ice
tap, tap, tapping on the frozen ground
there’s more to the story they say
the talking heads and daily scrolls
horrible truth bleeding out…
there was a faint heartbeat
when they found her, precious time
stolen by hateful thugs who let her die
the tap, tap, tapping of a pure heart
broken by malevolence and hate
a kind voice silenced by
pellets of ice

~kat

were there glimmers today? Of course…as there are every day…

Much love, peace, and glimmers to you.

~kat

✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨