A fundamental pause As much of noon, as I could take – Forever – is composed of Nows – the sun through the freckled pane - moments of escape - Affirming it a Soul –
For my final entry in this year’s poetry month challenge I gleaned some lines from a literary favorite of mine, Emily Dickerson. I can’t believe I made it through the whole month after such a long dry spell. Needless to say I am so very happy to be back!
i will never grow weary of this view as the sun sparkles through the trees at dawn
as the sun sparkles through the trees bird song, a cacophony of trills, tweets, and coos
a cacophony of trills, mournful coos rouse me from my bed to start a new day
rouse me from my head it’s a new day how fortunate am here in this place
how fortunate am i how blessed with grace to live amidst such beauty all around
to live amidst such beauty i have found a peace i never knew in the city
a peace i never knew, what a pity it’s taken me so long to find my way
it’s taken me too long but i must say i will never grow weary of this view
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 27 Prompt: write a “duplex.” A “duplex” is a variation on the sonnet, developed by the poet Jericho Brown. Like a typical sonnet, a duplex has fourteen lines. It’s organized into seven, two-line stanzas. The second line of the first stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the second stanza, the second line of the second stanza is echoed by (but not identical to) the first line of the third stanza, and so on. The last line of the poem is the same as the first.
Well, I gave this interesting take on the sonnet a go. It was not an easy task. Not sure I’ll be back for another try, but I am always happy to explore this particular subject. After 2-1/2 years in our forever home, I still love it here. We decided not to add window coverings, allowing the green hue from the surrounding trees and natural light to stream in. Of course this also means no sleeping in. The window at the foot of my bed faces due east where the sun rises over Bramlett Mountain just behind my house. Its light through the trees sparkles like diamonds!
Merlin will be 100 in cat years in a few short months a mischievous imp he is with fading eyes and random patches of gray, a toothless mouth that pouts when he mews, but he still wears his tuxedo coat like a regal gentleman who dines on pâté while demanding the servitude of his ever-devoted human
(that would be me)
of course i comply to his every whim i’m a sucker for soft fur, and deep rhythmic purrs mesmerized by the dark flecks in his green eyes deep as wells and by the trust implied by his gaze having tested me these twenty-one years
~kat
Na/GloPoWriMo 2022 - Day 24 Prompt: write a poem in which you describe something with a hard-boiled simile. Feel free to use just one, or try to go for broke and stuff your poem with similes till it’s . . . as dense as bread baked by a plumber, as round as the eyes of a girl who wants you to think she’s never heard such language, and as easy to miss as a brass band in a cathedral.
Now I don’t know if my similes are all that, (as mentioned in the examples above), but I did manage to pen a few. They say one should always write what one knowS. I guess you could say I know my subject quite well, like an old friend he is…my gentleman kittie, Merlin.
I had just logged out of my work computer, sat down to watch a bit of mindless TV while my dog’s tilapia baked in the oven. Okay, yes I cook for my dogs. Vet’s orders…though… well that’s another story it’s for my sweet Winston who refuses to go out in the rain to do his business without his raincoat Winnie, who has a special blankie and needs to be tucked in at night
anyhoo… where was I?
just finished work got two trays of tilapia into the oven fed the cats (don’t think i mentioned that or the cats) got Winston dressed in his raincoat so he could take a wee plopped down on the recliner sofa in the den turned on a movie then THIS popped up on the big screen…
what follows next is the conversation i had with some AI beaming in via satellite from a galaxy far, far away no doubt just sayin’
been a rough week only Tuesday, you say? rough week
Wha’? Hall-low!
Something’s not quite right. You’re telling me…wait!? How did you know?
Your receiver has not been reset in a while. Well that would explain a few things. It’s been a few years, hasn’t it? What with pandemics, government coups (attempted, alleged, your everyday tour group gone amuck in DC), inflation, wars, mass shootings, crazy people, two presidents (well, one just thinks he’s still the president…and people believe him!) mean, really nasty, hateful people, I must say I don’t miss being out there I don’t miss the office, the gossip, the backbiting, the hour-long commute i thought i was doing fine, adjusting to isola…i mean solitude but maybe it’s affected me just a bit more than i realized
To prevent your system from becoming unstable… Hey! No need to get personal bud!
…and to ensure you have the latest programming and software updates…. great hook! i’m listening… let me guess three easy payments of $9.95, free shipping and double this offer so i can share it with…
…your receiver will be reset in 45 seconds. Ha…wish it was that easy. You’re right. Something’s not quite right…
Most resets take less than 5 minutes. … … … well, i just spent 45 seconds in a conversation with my television i’m not sure 5 minutes is gonna cut it
think i’m gonna go unplug
the microwave just in case
~kat 🤪
NaPoWriMo 2022 - Day 5 Prompt: write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual – or at least something that seems unusual in relation to that person/creature.
I had fun with this one. Don’t know if it’s a poem…or on topic, but i had fun! 😊
Sun-painted Green Mountain as the crow flies at dawn -kat March 2022
the wild sacred
who can look at the sun at dawn or at dusk and not feel it’s fire in your core or sink your naked feet in cool loam it’s tingling vibration, as you become one with the she that is Her; oh, the song of cicada’s stirs sensuous longing; their slow rhythmic moan to crescendoing climax to breathless release…’sigh’…how indeed the cacophony of spring birdsong at dawn, their frenetic trill tweets are passion’s love song how could wild things be bedeviled as wrong from the rush, ebb and flowing of waterways deep to shallow streams bubbling, the brute power of steam, the way wind-tossed leaves sound like tempest-swelled seas while the stars and the moon watch us drift off to dream, to sleep, souls to keep holy, holy, wild is the rawness of green not sterile stone chapels with steel phallic spires but darkness, musk hollows, mountains and fire, how sacred is She, how wet with desire the earth and the sky and a soft cooling breeze can transport one to heaven on earth…
come with me
we’ll tip whistling kettle to cup, watch the crushed tea leaves bleed you’ll tell me your tales, and i’ll tell you mine too, while we sip from our cups in this wild sacred place, just us two
-kat
Just musings..no prompt or challenge save the magnificence surrounding me. Some poetry is best just because. 😊
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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