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Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 15 September 2019

It’s been one of those weeks. Long days at work. Busy weekend working. To say I’m tired is an understatement. But it was also a good week. I got a lot accomplished so there’s that.

An update on the mama cat, who we now call Matilda, the black kitten, who will henceforth be known as Schrodinger and our Frankie, the runt, who is now already 5 and a half pounds of spitfire. They are all healthy and thriving. Matilda was spayed – no more kittens for her and Schrodinger is scheduled for his neuter in a few weeks. I had been making great strides with Matilda until the spay. She is a grudge holder, it seems, and is slowly warming up to me again. It’s a good thing I am patient. As for Schrodinger? He is proving just as elusive as he was under our porch. Finding, I’m guessing, a perfect nook to hide in. He lives up to his name. This weekend we also helped transport a very pregnant mama beagle to her foster home. She was found in a shelter and rescued, thank goodness.

In a world where kindness is hard to come by, I try to do my part every day, not only with human folk, but with the least among us. Creatures big and small. The homeless, the hungry, the innocent. It gives me purpose. It connects me to what is important. Kindness. We need it more now than ever.

Have a wonderful week! ❤️


Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 15 September 2019

terror
move on
set up defenses
adorned in golden mist
gray clouds heavy with rain
we’re expected to outgrow
swevens
in the mist

~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.


Cinqku #7

even

the tree tops

are weary of

summer, turning before

the frost

~kat


A cinqku must always have 5 lines and a perfect seventeen-syllable count. The lines typically follow a 2,3,4,6,2 format. There is no title requirement on the second line. As for syntax and diction styles, it follows the free Tanka style originally. There are no metric requirements for a cinqku poem. Additionally, the final line must contain a cinquain or kireji turn for emphasis. 


Cinqku #3

I hear
faint whispers
the breeze singing
is it the trees, or me
dreaming?

~kat


A cinqku must always have 5 lines and a perfect seventeen-syllable count. The lines typically follow a 2,3,4,6,2 format. There is no title requirement on the second line. As for syntax and diction styles, it follows the free Tanka style originally. There are no metric requirements for a cinqku poem. Additionally, the final line must contain a cinquain or kireji turn for emphasis. 


Midnight with the Muse ~ surrendering

surrendering

in the belly of
grace I fall
I long to drink
deep of its
softness
to celebrate
the blink of
beautiful

~kat


A Blackout Poem inspired by the poem by Dante Micheaux below:

The Second Beautiful Harvest

By Dante Micheaux

I wake in the golden belly of this abode

and sense some diurnal grace at work.

I take my body to the fall, to bathe

and anoint my genitals with shea.

I have made my journey to the cold hills

to commune with my people there.

I come for the second beautiful harvest

and have waited long to look into its eye.

The harvest hosts libations, the meal

and my desireso I drink the deep

heady liquid of its languid stare, under

the hum of many voices: burgeoning

friendships and reunion in the low light.

I break into the soft weirdness of injera

and dip my fingers into the meat stew,

to celebrate the glory of the kings.

The clear splendor of the serving boy,

his slow blink as of a camel, does not

distract me—here to reap but seduced

by the second beautiful harvest.

Copyright © 2019 by Dante Micheaux. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on August 14, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.


Oviellejo #12

The news has been giddy with “who done it, was it homicide or suicide, how could they let this happen, whose gonna pay now” drivel. All over a vile pediphile’s untimely demise. But I’m still stuck. A little over a week ago, back to school shoppers were gunned down at a Walmart. Just a few days later, other children came home from their first day of school to find their parents missing. And still at our border there are no doubt children wasting away in cages because their parents had the audacity to seek safety for them. What parent wouldn’t do the same for their own children, faced with the threat of death or worse? I’ve been stewing on this Oviellejo for days. I had planned to write about the beautiful sunrise. It was beautiful. But somewhere someone is suffering, and my heart is bleeding. We can’t forget the children. We just can’t.


when children lose their innocence
no recompense

can make up for the damage wrought
it’s a dark spot

that festers slowly over time
it is a crime

ignoring it for a lifetime
can lead to callous, broken souls
no hope of ever being whole
no recompense, it’s a dark spot, it is a crime

~kat


The Oviellejo is an Old Spanish verse form (derived from ovillo, a ball of yarn). A stanza consists of 10 lines, with a rhyme scheme of AABBCCCDDC. The second line of each rhyme scheme, Line 2,4,6, is short line of up to 5 syllables. The last line is a “redondilla,” a “little round” that collects all three of the short lines.


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