Tag Archives: free form poetry

March 22, 2019

affluent hoarding

By Kat Myrman

affluent hoarding

a legacy of poverty means that even in times
of plenty, one cannot quench the urge to fill
cupboards with rows of non-perishables, that
will ultimately collect dust, but they are there,
just in case; there’s a propensity to buy two
of everything, to maintain double locks on
doors, to install shades and opaque curtains
to keep the outside, out; to have the car
loaded always with no less than half a tank,
blankets, rations, loose change, because one
never knows; all while obsessing over bank
account balances, due dates, a daily ritual,
a masochistic exercise, of checking dwindling
numbers especially when managing a joint
account with someone whose life was not
touched by empty cupboards, homelessness,
insufficient funds, and never enough, no never
enough, double-check, even when there is

~kat

For Time, Love, Misery’s Menageries Sunday Writing Prompt – the theme this week is Peace of Mind.

15 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, free verse, Life Lessons, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

March 7, 2019

Faith Restored

By Kat Myrman

To the WomanWho Told Me to Have a Nice Day…

I can’t forget what
you did…forgive me,
I never got your name, but
I wish I had, so
I could thank you for
being you, for doing
what you did that day,
without even trying, no
hint of forced intention,
because
that’s just who you are…
kind,
with a helping hand,
a ready smile, and a word
of encouragement in
the midst of my shitty day…
I can’t forget what
you did…forgive me,
I never got your name, but
I wish I had, so
I could thank you
~kat

For SundayWriting Prompt “Faith Restored”. The challenge: With allthe negativity in the world at the moment I thought we could all take a momentto recognize the heroes in our lives, people who have restored our faith inhumanity when all hope seemed lost.

Youneed not know the person personally just so long as they had an impact on yourlife or the life of someone near and dear to you.

14 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, free verse, Poetry

April 6, 2017

Lost in the Storm – NaPoWriMo 2017 #6

By Kat Myrman


I almost forgot last night’s
storm, blinded by radiant
streams of sun bursting
from a breach of clustering,
cumulus billows, remnants
of a tempest not content
to blow over lightly, swelling
instead into her next fit
of fury…I almost forgot
how crazed you were,
even your smile cannot
span the breach between
us…not yet…maybe never.

-kat – 6 April 2017
(NaPoWriMo 2017 – Optional Prompt – “Write about different ways of looking at something.” I decided to tackle the challenge in on poem.)

4 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Digital Art & Photos, free verse, Poetry

May 30, 2016

Grace at Dawn

By Kat Myrman

I’ll take
my diamonds at
dawn, chartreuse,
dewy, baubles…and sip
tea, honey sweet, serenaded
by trillers, warblers, and
cooing mourners, hints
of honeysuckle, lavender
and freesia on the
breeze…for I would be
remiss to miss such
bliss, this gift
of morning
grace.

kat ~ 30 May 2016

10 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Digital Art & Photos, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Spirituality

April 2, 2016

April Poetry Month – A Poem a Day #2

By Kat Myrman

Today’s poetry form: Free Verse

* Free verse poems have no regular meter and rhythm.
* They do not follow a proper rhyme scheme as such; these poems do not have any set rules.
* This type of poem is based on normal pauses and natural rhythmical phrases as compared to the artificial constraints of normal poetry.
* It is also called vers libre which is a French word.

I often write free verse at 3 am mid-REM. This is one of those brain-flushing poems, particularly poignant for me. Free form is my raw unfettered side with no boundaries to keep me from spilling out. Its form title, “FREE Verse” echoes the soul of this particular piece. Both of my parents suffered from severe, undiagnosed, untreated mental illness. Each eventually ended their own life to silence the madness. I have chosen life. The lunacy stops with me. I am free.

Childhood Crazy

He was obsidian in a naugahyde recliner,
a red hot cigarette tip, heavy with ash, suspended in the blank space between us,
Inconsolable shell of burdensome flesh smoldering in silence,
clock ticking, refrigerator humming, faucet dripping,
Sepia Jesus scowling from the frame on the wall.

He was white deafening noise.
A dizzy streak of laser precision, constructing pyramids of tin,
preoccupied with aliens, reincarnation and escape plans,
dismantling, rebuilding, obsessing over the unfitted, left-over parts,
ever seeking the subtle smiling approval of happy, golden-haloed Jesus.

Terrifying and thrilling, monster and superhero,
doomsdayer, naysayer, cheerleader, dragonslayer,
fragile broken parent figure, angel, demon, candle burning at both ends.
A short-fused powder keg, self-combusting,
disillusioned by fickle wishy-washy Jesus, pulling a trigger to end the pain.

His poison festers in my cells, lethal shards of DNA,
catching waves of white and crimson coursing through my veins, settling in my brain.
A childhood refrain of mania to gloom, neglected, undiagnosed crazy.
Daddy, if we had only known, we might have saved you.
Consoled with pharmaceuticals, severing the chain…at least I can save myself.

kat ~ 2 Apri‪‪l 2016‬‬

28 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Life Lessons, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings, Social Issues, Spirituality