it’s just a quick blink
life in its magnificence
played out in moments
~kat
For Haiku Horizons’ Challenge, Prompt Word: Blink.
Tag Archives: digital art
Autumn Whisper
i know one thing
the crystal moon
of autumn, the fire,
the ash, everything
that exists, aromas,
light, metals, stop me
little by little, suddenly
the wind passes through
me, at the heart, where
i remember each hour,
sweetness, each day,
love repeated, nothing
is forgotten, love feeds
on love, beloved,
as long as it will
~kat
A Black Out poem for this weeks Sunday Writing Prompt inspired by the song “If You Forget Me” by Pablo Neruda, (full lyrics with Blacked Out words in bold text below) by Mind, Love Misery’s Menagerie.
If You Forget Me
By Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
September Poem #9
perfect
a noun or verb
it doesn’t really matter
perfection can’t be perfected
when it doesn’t exist
~kat
Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 September 2018
It’s just words. Sticks and stones…but words…oh yes, words, silly words, how they bless, affirm, empower, indict, illuminate, question, and reveal the very heart and core of us. A slip of the tongue can show us who someone really is. A stroke of the pen, when scrolled in earnest, with excruciating honesty can prick our hearts and move our souls.
I am a writer. I write what I know and feel and am. If not with transparency, then, why bother. Oh I dip my toe into fiction every now and again, but if you read between the lines, I am there, pouring out the words that manifest in my head begging, sometimes screaming to be said. It is no use second guessing the words, razor edged, poignant, magnificent, that must be said. Too much? Too soon? Too revealing? To scathing? Too real? The moment I start censoring myself is the moment I cease to become me. And no one is suggesting that. Well, some are, but I say to those naysayers, be damned.
It’s just words…indeed! Words are everything I’ve learned. Beautiful excruciating words. And I am a writer above all other labels and titles; above all the roles assigned to me: daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, executive assistant, activist, friend. If you really want to know me, read my words. The painful, the snarky, the funny, the heartfelt musings, whisperings. They are not just words. They are everything. They will not be silenced. I will not be silenced. I am a writer.
Sunday’s Week in Reverse – 9 September 2018
down, down, behind the lace arbor
I am a writer
should be obvious
whoever said “blondes have fun” lied
celebrate those who toil
you can be strong
take care not to linger there
oh god
we’re in for bad weather
crank the cogs to squeeze out a dime
close your eyes now
global warming’s a hoax
right…there is no unless
soul whisperers who bear witness
in a spirit of love
desire for what could be
~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.
September Poem #8
poet
weaver of words
mastering rhymes and meters
soul whisperers who bear witness
silence is not golden
~kat
Continuing the Pensée this month. I really like the syllable count of this obscure little form: 2-4-7-8-6, as well as the theme suggestions:
line 1 is the subject;
line 2 gives description;
line 3, action;
line 4, the setting;
line 5, final thought.
It is also interesting to note the definition and etymology from Britannica.com of the word pensée, which no doubt was inspiration for this form:
Pensée, (French: literally, “thought”) a thought expressed in literary form. A pensée can be short and in a specific form, such as an aphorism or epigram, or it can be as long as a paragraph or a page. The term originated with French mathematician and philosopher Blaise Pascal, whose Pensées (1670) was a collection of some 800 to 1,000 notes and manuscript fragments expressing his religious beliefs. The form was particularly popular in French literature, as in Denis Diderot’s Pensées philosophiques (1746).
Now you know the rest of the story. And I have found one more reason to love this poetry form even more! 😊
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