Tag Archives: digital art.

Sunday’s ReVerse – 6 September 2020

I had to scroll back weeks to find where I left off to glean snapshots of my thoughts for this ReVerse. It’s been an exhausting summer. It’s been an exhausting year. 2020. In hindsight will our vision become clearer? It’s hard to say, I suppose. This year isn’t over yet. I believe we have a fighting chance if we are able to elect a new president here in the states, with an experienced and competent team of experts at the helm. They will have a lot to clean up. Another four years of this nightmare would…well, let’s not go there just yet. I’m holding out hope that people of good will will do the right thing and vote for decency and sanity. But what do I know?

In the meantime I am determined to write more and angst less. It’s a tall order for my empathic monkey brain! And my muse? Poor thing. I’m afraid I’ve sent her into hiding more often than not these days. She doesn’t take kindly to brooding. But it is time to make peace with her and myself and do what I do. Write my heart and soul out. It may not always be pretty, but at least I’ll be keeping it real, and myself from the abyss!

I do hope this coming week is a good one for you…for all of us. Counting my blessings…I have a home, food to eat, a four-day a week job (the fifth day was furloughed…but hey, it’s a job), I have people who love me, animals that follow me everywhere, and my soul. What more could a body need? Suffice to say I am grateful this sunny Sunday as I take a moment to breathe. Peace and love all. ❤️


Sunday’s ReVerse – 6 September 2020

it’s going to be a slow recovery
it’s the little things you know
like a kiss, soft, slow,
in its sweetness, charged
amidst a sea of jewels rising
here, safe, well, solitary bliss…
I’ll never say I told you so
I bite my tongue and bide the time
remember to breathe
while the world burns
as the nights grow long

~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. I use it as a review of the previous week…or in this case, the past few months!


summer fading

berries on the vine
cold nip in the airs
summer softly fading
blossoms bursting seed

tree boughs gently rustle
baring their souls
as the nights grow long
full moon lingering, come dawn

~kat


Brought out the Nature Poet Kit magnets today. It is a gorgeous, sunny, cool day. But dusk is coming too soon.


the unraveling

the unraveling

the tapestry is unraveling
earthy tones of brown and
tan, yellow and red fading,
white patches soiled from
blood and tears, offering no
warmth, no consolation,
threads splintering, breaking
unable to hold together the
dreams of the innocents
wrapped in it like a shroud…
where are the seamstresses
with steady hands and nimble
fingers, trembling with needles,
eyes too narrow to thread, to
mend the tatters, to scrub
the fabric clean, to restore
the tapestry, or better yet,
to weave a new cloth, one
that is brilliant, softened
with batting, large enough
to cover all who slumber,
to shield us from nightmares,
from the darkest of nights,
to bring us safely to the dawn
we’re hanging by a thread
tossed by tempests, trembling,
chilled to our bones
while the world burns

~kat


Crawling out from under my rock. Sorry for my recent silence. I confess that I have been overwhelmed of late by what’s happening to our brothers and sisters of color, to those sick and dying from the pandemic, from the lies of our leaders, from the hate ravaging our streets, disturbing the ardent pleas of peaceful protesters, from sheltering in (sheltering…what a benign word…sheltering). I have struggled to find words, forgetting that it is words that save me from the abyss; that help me get out of my head. I hope everyone is staying safe and well. I hope…at least I am trying to even as the dawn seems so very far away. Peace ✌️


matin

matin

i rise
to sun dappled treetops
to emerald eyes
to soft rhythmic purrs
to coffee-infused air
to cool sheets
to softness
to light
to love
what a miracle it is
to be granted another sunrise
to feel my lungs swell, to sigh
to know that i am clothed
in this moment, grounded
in its sweetness, charged
to greet this messy world
in the afterglow of glory…
     may i be a blessing then
     as i have been so richly blessed
i rise
to a new day
like every day before
and every day yet to come
if the fates are willing
to sun dappled treetops
to emerald eyes
to soft rhythmic purrs
to coffee-infused air
to cool sheets
to softness
to light
to love

~kat


healing

healing

healing

i hold my breath
try to forget
my shoulders tense
then I remember
the sweetness
and my breathing
grows soft, healing,
like rain, my breath’s
like a kiss, soft, slow,
persistent

~kat


Today’s Blackout Poem inspired by this magnificent poem by Yesenia Montilla.

a brief meditation on breath

i have diver’s lungs from holding my
breath for so long. i promise you
i am not trying to break a record
sometimes i just forget to
exhale. my shoulders held tightly
near my neck, i am a ball of tense
living, a tumbleweed with steel-toed
boots. i can’t remember the last time
i felt light as dandelion. i can’t remember
the last time i took the sweetness in
& my diaphragm expanded into song.
they tell me breathing is everything,
meaning if i breathe right i can live to be
ancient. i’ll grow a soft furry tail or be
telekinetic something powerful enough
to heal the world. i swear i thought
the last time i’d think of death with breath
was that balmy day in july when the cops
became a raging fire & sucked the breath
out of Garner; but yesterday i walked
38 blocks to my father’s house with a mask
over my nose & mouth, the sweat dripping
off my chin only to get caught in fabric & pool up
like rain. & i inhaled small spurts of me, little
particles of my dna. i took into body my own self
& thought i’d die from so much exposure
to my own bereavement—they’re saying
this virus takes your breath away, not
like a mother’s love or like a good kiss
from your lover’s soft mouth but like the police
it can kill you fast or slow; dealer’s choice.
a pallbearer carrying your body without a casket.
they say it’s so contagious it could be quite
breathtaking. so persistent it might as well
be breathing                        down your neck—

Yesenia Montilla