Wait

Wait…I know you know the drill, learn to wait until…
Wait until you’re older, the ultimate cold shoulder
Wait to speak ‘til spoken to, best be seen not heard
Wait to date, to drive a car, to vote, but not too young to serve
Wait until your dad gets home, to face your fate alone
Wait a minute, maybe two, proceed with caution whatever you do
Wait until the time is perfect, though perfect is a lie
Wait until tomorrow, next week, or a year or so
Wait, never make the others wait, for gods sake don’t be late
Wait in traffic, wait in line, wait your turn, and waste your time
Wait until you can’t remember what you’re waiting for 

Waiting is no way to live, don’t wait, don’t hesitate
While you have breath live fully, no regrets
Do what means most to you, push through, 
as for the rest, the busy, silly, messiness of life can wait for once, for you

~kat



I think

I think I must’ve lost my way
    At least I think it’s true
I think I thought I knew you well
    We both know that’s not true

           One of us was less than honest 
           I can’t believe I trusted you
           You had me fooled up to the end 
           I hate admitting this to you

I think I’ve learned a bitter lesson
   One that I won’t soon forget
I think it’s made me smarter too
    I know it has, I won’t forget

~ kat

Today you get a two-fer. I chewed on both of these throughout the day…couldn’t decide which one I liked best or either!

NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 14 Challenge: write a poem of at least ten lines in which each line begins with the same word (e.g., “Because,” “Forget,” “Not,” “If”). This technique of beginning multiple lines with the same word or phrase is called anaphora, and has long been used to give poems a driving rhythm and/or a sense of puzzlebox mystery. To give you more context, here’s an essay by Rebecca Hazelton on her students’ “adventures in anaphora,” and a contemporary poem that uses anaphora to great effect: Layli Long Soldier’s “Whereas.