Tag Archives: digital photography

A Year in ReVerse

Photo by Kat Myrman – Summer 2021
I stopped blaming the muse a long time ago. It’s not her fault, my aversion to upstopping my mind and letting the words flow like raindrops, like they once did. I left myself behind in pieces, managing the simple routines that got me by for these past several years in holding. Years of wandering, wondering, worrying, angsting, working too hard has gotten the better of me and I was quite content to lock myself away in shelter while the plague ravaged the outside world. The beautiful words that once swirled in my head begging to be released in prose or poetry muted to a whisper…only a few blips managing to break free in the past year and then some. Seasons have come and gone, children have been born, cherished pets have crossed to the other side, and I still work way too long and hard, but I am not content to let this wave of apathy have the best of the best of me.

How I have missed this place and you…and for that matter, me. I’ve spent the past week or so rereading my own words. I suppose it is my way of trying to find myself, to breath life back into my heart and mind…and it may be working. It got me to this page…it got me through almost a year of blather, sparce as it was. What resulted had much to say to me. “Whisper the answers you seek”…I am whispering, but know I will not be content until I am once again shouting from the tops of the trees…and so there is only this for now. Precious words gleaned from the gray…no promises of more to come…know it is my heart’s longing to return.

A Year in ReVerse

oh i can list a few reasons
soft as a whisper,
or not...i forgot 
days of rain, incessant raining
maybe not, doesn’t matter much now, 
sing the song of the night
dreaming in green
the world turned blue
the page, left wanting
sunlight lingering into the evening,
i dress myself in tears these days
winter coming soon, too soon, just saying
hard to let go when the sickle falls
memories of seasons past,
whisper the answers you seek
when all that is left of us is dust

~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. 


mother oak

mother oak

she stands, deeply rooted
amidst a grove of shallow-footed
firs, bursting with fruit; her evergreen
friends taunting her as she blushes
red, surrendering her modesty
to the cool winds of autumn

what dreams she’ll dream when
winter comes, memories wakened
in the deep, dark loam, buried there
where only her roots can taste them,
memories of seasons past, of
seed-burst longing to breach the
grave, to life, to feel the sun upon
her face and the sweet seductive
breeze, the thrill of greening

she stands, deeply rooted
amidst a grove of shallow-footed
firs, some felled by tempests, or the ax
destined to waste away to dust covered
in gaudy baubles and tinsel, their
ever-greenness an illusion laid
bare at the altar of lost souls, and
rendered to ash at vanity’s bonfire

yes, she stands, deeply rooted
in the bosom of she who keeps
this blue orb spinning, sailing
through a sea of sweet milk just
far enough from the sun not
to be consumed and close enough
to the moon to see her reflection,
light and shadow colliding, in
ecstasy, heart and soul all-knowing

~kat

-Inspired by a new book I’m reading… “Seeds From the Wild Verge” by Brendan Ellis Williams


dressed in tears

dressed in tears

i dress myself in tears these days
not for me, i weep for others
orphaned children, childless mothers
victims of cruelty and hate

justice denied for those who wait
i feel their pain, those who suffer
i dress myself in tears these days
not for me, i weep for others

for every soul who’s led astray
hope one day we can recover
learn to care for one another
with compassion, kindness and grace
i dress myself in tears these days

~kat

Well I completely fell off the NaPoWriMo wagon this year! This poem is based on one of the prompts. I’ve been adding a line or two over the past week when i have the time. Along with my day job, I have been caring for a sick pup who requires a special home cooked diet (our other pups are on the diet as well to avoid food nabbing) and with two very large dogs (175lbs and 125lbs) and a small one (20lbs) I am cooking daily along with all the household chores, while my partner works a second part-time job to pay the medical bills for our Winston. we don’t know how long he will be with us but are doing what we can to make his life a good one. How could anyone say no to this face! 
In case i didn’t mention it, this is a Rondel. Here are the rondel poetry form rules:
1. Poem consists of 13 lines in 3 stanzas
2. Rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains)
3. Usually 8 syllables per line

signs of the season

signs of the season

bare tree limb tips dipped
in green, white and lavender
sunlight lingering into the evening,
peepers peeping at dusk,
worms slithering from the damp dark,
bees, butterflies, spiders and ants,
buzz, flit and creep, a hint of wet clay,
fading leaves and first blooms in the mist
and this, the first hummingbird sighting
at the nectar jars outside my window
it’s official...spring is finally here

~kat

NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 13 Prompt: This one is short and sweet: write a poem in the form of a news article you wish would come out tomorrow.

things that i can’t forget

things that i can’t forget

i don’t remember when
the world turned blue
maybe it was when
the post-it notes on the ‘frig
lost their power to inspire me
or perhaps it was
when i stopped listening
to the nameless
portraits on the wall...
aren’t they just voices
in my own head after all,
me trying to preserve
my sanity is like using crazy glue
to stop a dam from bursting
i lost control of everything
that late spring into summer into...
the seasons are all a blur
here behind closed doors,
no hope left inside
locked, the key tossed
into the starry night,
into the beautiful purple haze,
that faded to grey, the darkness
in my soul changing hue, to blue
it’s all coming back to me now
like loose change in my pocket
i realize it’s the little things,
things that i can’t forget

~kat

NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 10 Prompt: 
First, find a song with which you are familiar – it could be a favorite song of yours, or one that just evokes memories of your past. Listen to the song and take notes as you do, without overthinking it or worrying about your notes making sense.
* Next, rifle through the objects in your junk drawer – or wherever you keep loose odds and ends that don’t have a place otherwise. (Mine contains picture-hanging wire, stamps, rubber bands, and two unfinished wooden spoons I started whittling four years ago after taking a spoon-making class). On a separate page from your song-notes page, write about the objects in the drawer, for as long as you care to.
* Now, bring your two pages of notes together and write a poem that weaves together your ideas and observations from both pages.

The Song:

Vincent

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy, linen land
Now, I understand what you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now, I understand, what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how
Perhaps they'll listen now
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you
Starry, starry night
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless heads on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow
Now, I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they're not listening still
Perhaps they never will
Source: Music match
Songwriters: Don Mclean
Vincent lyrics © Songs Of Universal Inc., Benny Bird Co. Inc.

from the junk drawer
loose change
screw
batteries
checkbook
pen
paper clip
keys
pocket knife
screw driver
measuring tape
post it notes
crazy glue