Noise
spaces in between
meant for quiet reflection
often are brimming
with this, that, why, and what for
sending me over the edge
try meditating
they said, empty your noggin
tell that to the muse
~kat
Revisiting the Tanka/Senryu combo for Colleen Chesebro’s Tuesday Poetry Challenge, prompt words: Quiet & Space.
If there is one thing you can expect from me, dear reader, it is raw honesty. The good, the bad and the ugly. At least from my perspective. Because that is all any of us has. We see the world through our own personal lenses. Some of us take the time and make the effort to inform our opinions with fact. And some of us let others do the work for us, gravitating to the truth that feels good to us.
Welcome to modern day America where news is fake, opinions are truth, there is us and them, and fear trumps love and reason. I saw it coming. This hotbed of extremes we find ourselves in. I tried to warn those closest to me that their support and vote for evil would not end well. I hate being right.
There is no satisfaction in having my greatest fears come true. There is only heartache compounded by the battle scars that I’ve sustained in the aftermath. My adult children, their spouses and extended families all voted for Trump.
Was I wrong to be angry? Was I wrong to feel betrayed? Was I wrong for being sad to realize the truth about those closest to me? I can tell you it makes me feel like a total failure as a parent. Though, with middle-aged children, when does the responsibility for their actions cease to be my fault? Mothers are too easily blamed.
And so I find myself in a new reality. A casualty of these divided states of America. Because I have refused to remain silent in the face of the injustice and the assaults on freedom, democracy and liberty for all, my own universe has imploded. My punishment for being other is to be outcast, separated from my beloved grandchildren, and disowned by everyone but my partner…and my dogs who still love me unconditionally. No more birthdays, mother’s days, grandparent’s days, thanksgivings or christmases to look forward to. Living death in the face of everything I held dear because I could not bury my emotions from those I had always considered safe.
Honesty, reality, truth, compassion, empathy, love. They still mean something to me. I have paid a dear price for these things. It is all I have left of the me as I struggle to find my way in this new reality. My heart grieves everyday. Being dead while living is not for the faint of heart. But I still believe in truth and honesty…and love. Even when it hurts.
left to wither alone
warm flush reducing me to ash / over the edge, swirling shards of bone
What’s so important
troubling my heart…
no one wants to know
phantoms in the mist
Oh my god! What happened?!”
That day the world felt too big.
I never believed in signs.
the moribund harbingers
it was never love
on the wind take flight
there’s a battle
power to change
it is now
to be forgotten
~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.
to be forgotten
as if you never
lived is like death
eternity is not
some thing
it is now
hello has the
power to change
your life
there’s a battle
playing out
good and evil
at war
forcing us to
use our brain
~kat
It’s Friday the 13th! I missed last week’s word of the day post…technical difficulties. But I’m back this week with a word from Dictionary.com that is quite apropos for this bleak rainy (at least in my corner of the world) Friday…Moribund.
It originated in Latin from the adjective moribundus as well as 16th Century French moribond both which mean about to die, dying and is a derivative of the Latin root mer- (to die). We picked up this word in the English language in the 18th century and carried over its meaning as both an adjective and a noun. As an adjective it means: in a dying state; near death; on the verge of extinction or termination; not progressing or advancing; stagnant: a moribund political party for example. And as a noun: a person who is dying.
Several heavy metal bands have incorporated this word into their names, record titles or songs. For example, Moribund Oblivion, a Turkish black metal band from Istanbul, Moribund (album), a 2006 album by the Norwegian black metal band Koldbrann, “Moribund the Burgermeister“, a 1977 song by British progressive rock musician Peter Gabriel, and Moribund Records, a heavy metal record label.
This term is also used in medical circles, as one might expect, referring to end of life symptoms, characteristics and stages: ‘on examination she was moribund and dehydrated”.
And of course one can also find it coined in political commentary and all manner things that are near death, fading, or not thriving: “But that market has been moribund, to say the least.” “Blowhard politicians trumpeted moral outrage to gratify moribund anti-communists.” Or “Prices in Japan are falling, so moribund is the economy.”
I can’t believe I haven’t come across this scrumptious word until now. But thanks to this little weekly exercise I have one more word in my toolbox. Moribund. It has such a smooth poetic sound, don’t you think? And I expect it will be quite useful when I’m in a melancholy mood.
Here are a few Haiku/Senryu then. Have a great weekend!
treetops of crimson
moribund leaves once verdant
on the wind take flight
it’s over you know
this moribund ruse of ours
it was never love
tempests and earthquakes,
the moribund harbingers
of an earth dying
~kat
haunting trills
phantoms in the mist
loons at dawn
~kat
For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word, Mist. Photo by StockSnap at Pixabay, digitally enhanced by K. Myrman.
like mercury colliding... 