Tag Archives: Monday Musing

weightless

Background Photo by Public Domain on Pixabay.com

weightless

restaurants and movie theaters consider
me a senior, rewarding my longevity
with fifty cents or so, might as well be
two cents, though I don’t need yours
or anyone’s opinion these days when
everyone has one, clinging to it like
truth. opinion is not truth, that’s my
two cents. take it or leave it. but I digress,
back to my status, senior, elderly, of a
certain age, labels that feel odd considering
the forever greenness of my mind, of my
perception, clouded by smoke and mirrors
that taunt me, body softening, surrendering
to gravity, hair thinning, my gait pensive,
cautious, slowing, my eyes amplified by
thickening glass, I remember when I
considered sixty-four, ancient, one foot
in the grave, out of touch, out of time, silly
me when I was young, invincible, carefree,
I don’t feel invincible these days, but
I don’t fear the inevitable either, just
calm, a certain peace, and grace, oodles
of grace that surrounds me like a lazy
river weaving round and round with me
floating on top of the waves, gazing at
the tree tops, backlit by blue, that sway
overhead, though I’m soon to be plucked
from the current, I’m ready whenever,
but for now I’m breathing, the air is
sweet and my heart is full, so very full

~kat~


Monday Musings on this chilly Autumn day, just days from the U.S. celebration of Thanksgiving, which will be a bit different for many of us this year. Peace all.


unbearable – Monday with the Muse

neon

unbearable

looking at the unbearable
i imagine a neon sign
i feel the weight
of air, the presence
of light under
my skin
like gold
beneath
black…

~kat


A blackout poem inspired by the poem, “At the Beach” by Elizabeth Alexander below:

At the Beach
BY ELIZABETH ALEXANDER

Looking at the photograph is somehow not
unbearable: My friends, two dead, one low
on T-cells, his white T-shirt an X-ray
screen for the virus, which I imagine
as a single, swimming paisley, a sardine
with serrated fins and a neon spine.

I’m on a train, thinking about my friends
and watching two women talk in sign language.
I feel the energy and heft their talk
generates, the weight of their words in the air
the
same heft as your presence in this picture,
boys, the volume of late summer air at the beach.

Did you tea-dance that day? Write poems
in the sunlight? Vamp with strangers? There is
sun under your skin like the gold Sula
found beneath Ajax’s black. I calibrate
the weight of your beautiful bones, the weight
of your elbow, Melvin,
on Darrell’s brown shoulder.

“At the Beach” by Elizabeth Alexander. From Body of Life, published by Tia Chucha Press. Copyright 1996 Elizabeth Alexander. Used by permission of the author.
Source: Body of Life (Tia Chucha, 1996)


Monday Musing

found missing

it was where
he had long
turned thus…
there he was, serene,
cadaverous, calm,
as he sat there gazing,
he was gone

~kat


Today’s Blackout/Found poem is taken from the poem:

Why He Was There
by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Much as he left it when he went from us
Here was the room again where he had been
So long that something of him should be seen,
Or felt-and so it was. Incredulous,
I turned about, loath to be greeted thus,
And there he was in his old chair, serene
As ever, and as laconic as lean
As when he lived, and as cadaverous.
Calm as he was of old when we were young,
He sat there gazing at the pallid flame
Before him. ‘And how far will this go on?’
I thought. He felt the failure of my tongue,
And smiled: ‘I was not here until you came;
And I shall not be here when you are gone.’


damned either way – Monday Musing

damned either way

i want
someone
to guess what’s
underneath, past
the glitter
i want
to confirm
your worst,
to show you
i care
except
i find that
this world cries
and cries
and i’ll be
damned
they bury me

~kat

A “Found” or “Blackout” Poem based on the second best poem according to 100.Best-Poems.net.

What Do Women Want?
by Kim Addonizio
I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what’s underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering inthe window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past theGuerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I’m the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst
fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment
from its hanger like I’m choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I’ll wear it likebones, like skin,
it’ll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.


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