Tag Archives: Poetry

not nearly enough

not nearly enough

i have been lulled by the serene,
by cloud dappled cerulean, and green
by the scent of honeysuckle, fresh
cut blades of grass, by rose petals
stretched open wide, drenched in dew
by birdsong at dawn, crickets and
peepers at dusk, the sun and the moon
chasing each other day to night,
the stars granting wishes
before fading from sight…she is
a beguiling mistress, nature,
it’s easy to forget she has a dark
side; a cycle of life, daunting
for those low on the food chain…
usually efficient, she sends
the buzzards to remove remnants
of untimely death from the forest floor
usually, but not today as i happened
upon a tiny shank of fresh meat,
fur still clinging to exposed bone,
undeniably of rabbit, nestled
in pressed down clover, beautiful
green, the sun shining, a soft,
fragrant breeze rustling the leaves
and all i could think was how grateful
i was not to have witnessed
the brutal carnage that happened
here under the trees, my heart
breaking for that poor creature,
emotions flooding my soul, heart
breaking for all manner of suffering
as the world grows darker by the day
remnants of untimely carnage left
in the open forcing us to see, no
longer kept hidden behind closed
doors or in the shadows, life is not
all rainbows and butterflies
and there are not enough buzzards,
what magnificent creatures they are,
to sweep away the bloody mess
we’ve made of things, not nearly enough

~kat
As luck would have it, it was raining when i recorded this melancholy poem… or maybe it has nothing to do with luck. 😉

what matters – live

As requested by my dear friend Peter, i give you the recited version of yesterday’s poem. It took me a dozen or so takes, not that I’m a perfectionist, but to successfully get through from beginning to end without a hiccup, tongue-twist, mangled word, or brain freeze. And I might add, the quietest place in my world is outside. This bright sunny morning, you will hear that I competed for air time with a field of lusty cicadas. Welcome to my world! I hope you like it.

And Peter, I could not live with myself if I were the reason you were losing sleep! Rest well my friend and thank you for tapping on this old turtle’s shell and inviting me to come out!

…and here is the text in case you’d like to follow along…

what matters

it matters not when life begins
or ends; it is the in between
the crooked path, the highs, the lows
as most lives go, pendulums swing
and we obsess in the extremes
but that’s not where the rubber
hits the road, i’m told, steady
as she goes, the wise have said,
don’t lose your head, don’t sweat
the insignificant, but who’s to say
what matters most at end of day
if truth be told, if truth exists
the rights, the wrongs the
reasons why we fight and fret
and lean toward right or left,
it is the middle, we forget,
where time is present,
neither here nor there,
where god, if god exists, is love,
is everywhere, where grace
flows freely, despite who,
what, why, or where you’ve been,
can we just close our eyes, pretend
it matters not the second life
begins or ends, it is, as it has
always been, the in between

~kat

what matters

what matters

it matters not when life begins
or ends; it is the in between
the crooked path, the highs, the lows
as most lives go, pendulums swing
and we obsess in the extremes
but that’s not where the rubber
hits the road, i’m told, steady
as she goes, the wise have said,
don’t lose your head, don’t sweat
the insignificant, but who’s to say
what matters most at end of day
if truth be told, if truth exists
the rights, the wrongs the
reasons why we fight and fret
and lean toward right or left,
it is the middle, we forget,
where time is present,
neither here nor there,
where god, if god exists, is love,
is everywhere, where grace
flows freely, despite who,
what, why, or where you’ve been,
can we just close our eyes, pretend
it matters not the second life
begins or ends, it is, as it has
always been, the in between

~kat

crone maple

crone maple

she is a crone, yon maple tree
her sweetness long run dry
her core laid bare, exposed,
she stands tall, deeply rooted
having weathered many a storm,
seasonal extremes, drought
and deluge, through it all she
greens, her leaves a celebration
of resilience, audacity, of life..
a marvel, casting shade to cool
and sturdy limbs for nesters,
a wonder, though onlookers
might surmise her useless, her
scarred exterior as evidence, they
underestimate her power and
the fire that courses through
her veins…underestimated to
the peril of small minds who’ve
forgotten that their shallow roots
mingle with hers in the hollows

~kat

ode to joy

ode to joy

mist-veiled hints of muted blue
pale light dawning, just out of view
earthen musk mingling
sweet blooms, dew clinging
birds singing
joy breaks through

~kat
The Clogyrnach Poem

This Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme:
Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 2: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 3: 5 syllables with a b rhymeLine 4: 5 syllables with a b rhymLine 5: 3 syllables with a b rhymeLine 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme

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