Tag Archives: free verse

Old School

I remember thrilling over
black and white marbled
composition notebooks and
fresh boxes of peacock blue
ink cartridges for my fountain
pen…it was a time when only
sheets of pressed parchment
were acceptable mediums for
my finished masterpieces…
dropped into plastic protective
sleeves, collated into 3-ring
binders, eventually boxed away
in the attic or the basement
to collect dust while waiting
to be rediscovered, words
spilled out, so easily tucked
away until the next sequence
of adjectives and verbs
dribbled onto blank pages,
beautiful scribbles, cross
outs and bleeding  blots of
ink collecting in the creases….
I remember those days,
it was not so long ago, but
now there are no sloppy
folded sheets of words
to remind me of the process,
now there is backspace,
delete and
save

~kat


Grateful

Today I am

deeply grateful

because thankfulness

is a fleeting,

fickle feeling.

But gratitude?

Well, gratitude

has attitude

and lasts for more

than just a day.

~kat


Save Your Prayers

‘Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.’ – W.B. Yeats

save your prayers, please, just save them
words of pious supplication
apathy’s justification
reason scorned, and truth forsaken
save your prayers
don’t tell me your heart is breaking
over pain of your own making
hoarding grace, from others, taking
hearts afraid of shadows, quaking
save your prayers, please
just save them

~kat

Today’s quote for Jane Dougherty’s A Month With Yeats is from his poem ‘The Hosting of the Sidhe’.


Into Oblivion

‘Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-delighting heaven’.
from “The Cold Heaven”, by W.B. Yeats

never enough, no never
enough, I sense her
monstrous pie-face
leering, spy her bony
hands convulsing, tormented
by her minding-numbing
cackling, tock-tick-tick-tock-
tick…even her minions, those
maniacal demons, strobe
bloody, red in the dark
murky gloam, would that
the sun and moon were
enough, but no, I am in
race with this fiend, a
relentless taskmaster who
tolls every hour, with nary
a second to smell
a wild flower, another
day slips into oblivion

~kat

A daylight savings time fallback protest poem for Jane Dougherty’s A month with Yeats: Day Six Challenge. I woke up a hour too early and drove home from my 9 to 5 in the dark. I do not like this time change…no, I do not! 😨


Graying Streams of Consciousness

Graying Streams of Consciousness

bleary eyed, bright
lights, crying, gulping
air, breathing,
soothing sweet
milk flowing, warm
love, bunting soft, safe
she’s in there somewhere

wobbly knees, feet
pressed on cold linoleum,
toes-gripping, step by
step, walking, mouthing
sounds, wording,
mama, pa, talking
she’s in there somewhere

butterfly kisses, bumped
knees, bruised
elbows, big bed, tucked
tight, prayers for
soul keeping, fairy
tale whispers, magic sprite
she’s in there somewhere

books bags, bologna,
bread, mustard, cursive
scratch, fountain pen
perfect, friendly foe
drama, first crush,
pep-rallied awkward
she’s in there somewhere

young love, bliss
wedded, babies, more
babies, 9 to 5 working
surviving, surviving
love fading, still
thriving, heart breaking
she’s in there somewhere

empty nest echo, wild
dreams deferred, then
finding herself, soaring,
smile-lined, curled
locks graying, young,
wise, remembering
she’s in there somewhere

~kat

For Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt: “Know Thyself” inspired by this monologue from the film/play “The Dresser”:

I thought I caught a sight of him tonight
— or myself as he sees me –
speaking reason not the need I became detached from myself, my thoughts flow and I was observing from a great height
— go on you bastard I seemed to be saying or hearing, go on you’ve more to give, go on more more more —
and I was watching Lear
— each word he spoke was fresh invented, I had no knowledge of what came next, what fate awaited me, the agony of acting was in the moment created —
I saw an old man and the old man was me —
outside myself —
do you understand?
— outside myself