Tag Archives: digital art.

blackberries

blackberries

she is a wall at the forest’s edge
an impenetrable bramble, untamed
some say she’s invasive, an unruly hedge
in fact she’s a rose of another sweet name

an impenetrable bramble, untamed
greening each spring, flowering to buds
in fact she’s a rose of another sweet name
with drupelets sweet and ready to pluck

greening each spring, flowering to buds
one must take care when venturing too close
with drupelets sweet and ready to pluck
her prickly cane stem’s a formidable foe

one must take care when venturing too close
when fair rubis ursinus nips, she draws blood
her prickly cane stem’s a formidable foe
a favorite snack of deer folk and thrush

when fair rubis ursinus nips, she draws blood
she is a wall at the forest’s edge
a favorite snack of deer folk and thrush
some say she’s invasive, an unruly hedge

~kat

NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day 17: Write a poem that contains the name of a specific variety of edible plant – preferably one that grows in your area. In the poem, try to make a specific comparison between some aspect of the plant’s lifespan and your own – or the life of someone close to you. Also, include at least one repeating phrase.

I chose to do a Pantoum ( see the rules below):

Stanza 1: ABAB
1 First line (A)
2 Second line (B)
3 Third line rhymes with first (A)
4 Fourth line rhymes with second (B)

Stanza 2: BCBC
5 Repeat the second line (B)
6 Sixth line (C)
7 Repeat the fourth line (B)
8 Eighth line rhymes with sixth (C)

Stanza 3: CDCD
9 Repeat the sixth line (C)
10 Tenth line (D)
11 Repeat the eighth line (C)
12 Twelfth line rhymes with the tenth (D)

Stanza 4: DADA
13 Repeat tenth line (D)
14 Fourteenth line rhymes with first (A)
15 Repeat twelfth line (D)
16 Repeat the first line (A)


being honest

being honest

if I were the least bit
honest
I would lie to you
tell you everything
is going to be okay
that we will get through this
you and me
that one day we’ll look back
and laugh at how silly it was
for us to worry
I would tell you this
and more because
it’s what you need
to hear most right now
but
i’m not honest, not one bit
the truth of the matter
not that it matters
is that I’m terrified
this might not end well
for you, for us…
we just don’t need dishonesty
when we’re hanging by a thread

~kat

NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day Sixteen: Today’s prompt is a poem of negation – yes (or maybe, no), I challenge you to write a poem that involves describing something in terms of what it is not, or not like.


magnetic haiku

the fiddler’s playing
in the shadow of the moon
let’s bring in the cows

~kat

NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day 13:  try writing a short poem (or a few, if you’re inspired) that follows the beats of a classic joke. Emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem – such as the line breaks – and the punchline.

For this challenge I decided to write a haiku style poem using the magnetic poetry online tool…Nature Kit.

one-sided

one-sided 

you don’t hear me when I say I love you
I’m paying for the demons of your past
after all these years, still you have to ask
you can’t believe I’ll stay forever true

I wonder if there’s more that I can do
to prove my love, or would it be a waste
it’s exhausting when my effort is misplaced
it’s worth reminding you what we’ve been through

we’ve seen it all, the better and the worst
sickness, yours and mine, and family too
adversity, met head on, we two pulled through
if I had to choose, you know I’d pick you first

so tell me darling dear, do you love me
please spare me all this effort, set me free

~kat

I am not a fan of sonnets. But a challenge is a challenge. Chewed on this all day. Obligatory sonnet penned. Glad this is done. 


NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day Nine: Sunday Sonnet - write your own sonnet. Incorporate tradition as much or as little as you like – while keeping in general to the theme of “love.”

In general, though, here are the main characteristics that define most sonnets:
* Number of Lines: 14
* Meter: Typically iambic pentameter
* Rhyme Scheme: Petrarchan (abba abba cde cde or abba abba cdc dcd) or Shakespearean (abab cdcd efef gg), among many others
* Unique Qualities: Contains a volta (twist or turn) closer to the end of the sonnet
* Common Themes: Typically love and romance but also faith, time, personal emotions, and social/political matters

poison

poison

perfect, lifeless boys
in the sunshine
dead or dying
in this new battlefield
in schoolhouses
here, where guns
are business,
this country
where we dare not want
or mention the poison
claiming them
in such great numbers

too long in this season
is blinding us to what we love

~kat

NaPoWriMo2023 Challenge Day 6: off topic today. Just could wrap my brain around the ask. Soooo….It’s been a while since I wrote a blackout poem. I found this stunning poem by Molly McCully Brown. The title grabbed me right away because I live in Virginia. Her words resonated with me and my own experience here. My take after gleaning from her words resulted in another poem right from the current headlines. I wish it wasn’t 😟
Virginia, Autumn
by Molly McCully Brown


October, I’m dragging the dog away from perfect birds
lifeless on the pavement. By the water, boy in dress blues
with bayonets, the blistered hulls of boxships. Everything
is sunshine. Everything is dead, or dying, and this isn’t
a new thought. I grew up here, but farther from the ocean.
Each April, they took us to the battlefield, marched us
in schoolhouse lines up courthouse steps: here
is where the war ended. Never mind that it was fall
before the final battleship lowered its flag; never mind
that we still haven’t fired the last gun. What business
do I have wanting a baby here: in this body
where I can’t keep my balance, this country
where we can’t keep anything alive that needs us,
or dares not to, not even the switchgrass
pale and starved for groundwater? And still,
I do want. I search the news for mention of the birds,
whatever poison or disease I’m sure is claiming them
in such great numbers
: meadowlarks, house wrens,
chickadees, starlings. Once even a gray gull, pulled
open at the chest before we found him, hollowed
of his organs. It takes a long time—too long—
for me to understand the sun in this season
is blinding, and the birds are flying into windows
all around me, fourteen stories up. Flying into glass
and falling. What we love is rarely blameless.
Is it a failure that I wouldn’t trade this brightness?
I imagine pointing upward for my daughter:
Look, there, how it catches in the changing trees.

Copyright © 2023 by Molly McCully Brown. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on April 5, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets.