bustling masses,
rushing nowhere, slog through life,
apathy’s minions
~kat
A bit late, catching up on my weekly writing challenges, but nevertheless, mission accomplished. A haiku this week for Colleen Chesebro’s Tanka Tuesday Poetry Challenge Prompt (Synonyms Only): Vigor (bustle) & Energy (life).
it is only a moment
in time…the in between…
all and nothing…over
in a heartbeat…life
is short…live it
~kat
Magnetic Poetry Online – Love Kit
my garden heaves her
last bit of sweetness
as the cool beauty of
death whispers to her
urging her to sleep…
to dream of spring
I am not dazzled by
broken gods and
fool-hearty men who
must be surrounded by
all-embracing prisoners
of fear to feel whole
keep trusting in
the goodness of
others even if it is
hard to see….I
believe it’s always
there, waiting to care
every path is thick
with followers but
wanderers leave fresh
tracks through the wild
~kat
How do I love thee, life? I count the ways as if naming each thing might offer me a line to grasp; to anchor me in place when the recognizable signs start to slip away.
Those moments when darkness descends, there is you, tiny candle, sucking up air, consuming the wick, calling me home. When people are unkind, there is a smile and a gentle touch to remind me all is not lost. When there is suffering, and unimaginable loss in the wake of the storm, there is you, sweet, audacious nature, showing me that life goes on again and again with each passing season. Life goes on.
How do I love thee, life? With every breath I take of the air that I share with all things living. Though I am but a speck of dust, I have not surrendered myself to ash. I am an ember still, capable of warmth; a flicker of amber. Like autumn’s fading rose clings to the vine in sweetness, I cling to you, life. How precious each moment is. How precious you are.
she is not broken
the last few years had been hell
if you can call this living
when terror descended / when hatred triumphed
in a world so divided
the muse plays her heart
shades of gray
offering but a glimpse inside
It was true.
No one tells you it’s the little things that rip through your heart
impress anonymously
become self-serving
But it was revenge
between dusk and dawn
they can save us…if
like ice melting
it is all madness
~kat
A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.
Some believe innocence is only a casualty of childhood lost, but I know this is not true. Even grown ups cling to wisps of innocence, suffering its loss when it slips away. The only difference is we call it hope.
The hope that deep down all people are decent and good and will do the right thing if given the chance.
The hope that bad things and people eventually pay for the harm they perpetuate.
The hope that people see us for who we are inside, not judging us for our faith, the color of our skin, where we were born, or who we love.
The hope that everything happens for a reason and in the end all things work together for good.
Children aren’t the only ones at risk of losing innocence. And there are many ways to suffer it’s loss. A parent will cushion the harsh blow when their child discovers that there is no Santa Claus, Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy, by telling them the truth; that those fantastical characters are in fact a mommy and daddy who love them very much and just wanted to make their life special. But who is there to reassure us as adults when the world we hoped in, and believed existed, begins to crumble away?
Some turn to faith, while some look to others to make things right. But even the strongest faith or the greatest savior in the flesh can leave us feeling empty, inconsolable because of the gnawing questions everyone asks in times of lost innocence, lost hope….”How could…Why would…What now…Who can I trust?”
The honest answer, the one we may not want to hear, is that some things can’t be fixed, made right, or restored. Just as a child can’t unknow the truth that Santa is not real, we cannot unknow the reality of the world, with its imperfections and cruelty, once it reveals itself in the light.
But one thing I do know is that the end of the world as we once knew it is not the end of the world. We go on. We always go on, a little wiser perhaps, but hopefully not jaded. Innocence is a bit overrated in my opinion. Hope can be too, when reality is not taken into account. I’ll take truth and light over the alternative any day… even if it hurts.
harmony murmuring
sifts first through sludge and shale
a sight deemed tasteless
where’s the lens filter
to reignite hope’s embers
shell shards spawn the shore
I just don’t think I’m into roughing it
Who likes cookies?
incogitant tweet perhaps,
spoken from privilege
only for a season
you can ask any child
if we could remember
storms, singing in the rain
~kat
A shi sai or 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 shi sai features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week.
like mercury colliding... 