Tag Archives: Poetry

Sexagenarian Sagacity



Sexagenarian Sagacity

Six. It seems like such a small number. That’s how many decades I have lived on this planet; three score; sixty years and counting. 

When I survey the old lady in the mirror I see a face that is suddenly wrinkly and fuzzy like a peach. My hair is thinning. My belly is softening. My steps are more measured. My eyesight is fading. But there is a glimmer still, and a sense of contentment.

My quest for the secret of life doesn’t hold the urgency it once did. I don’t need to know all the answers. Six decades, three score, goes by in a blink; a mere dot on page of history. But I have found happiness along the way. A moment’s happiness is more than enough.

pencil scratch hash marks
inch up an old wall, love notes,
lost baby teeth, pearls,
patent leather go-go boots,
random memories to keep

life in full measure
bursts of smoldering passion
settling to dust

~kat
A Haibun/Tanka/Haiku for Colleen Chesebro’s Poetry Tuesday Challenge. Prompt words this week are: Hunt and Find (there are a few thesaurus aliases in this piece :))


Magnetic Poetry Monday

almost an angel, always
after a breeze, childlike,
dazzling breath of magic…
your life is poetry in rhythm
with eternity…do not listen to
the voices of fools who
say you cannot fly

~kat

Magnetic Poetry Poet Kit


Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 30 July 2017


I love this week’s Shi Sai ReVerse poem! It tells such a story.

Once upon a time there was such a thing as decorum, civility and grace. People had manners and treated others with respect; but no more. Now anything goes. We are insulated from the consequences of our meanness because we can release the dark side of our souls in posts and tweets and voice messages. What was once whispered in private is now broadcast around the world never to be erased, taken back or atoned for.

I am the first to say that I miss the days when we were nicer to each other. But there is a part of me that is grateful for our recent fall from grace.

Just because we didn’t speak our minds back in the day, doesn’t mean that those ugly things didn’t exist. We just hid them better. The recent divide that has torn my country down the middle has been rumbling under the surface for a long time. Back in the day before we lost our filters, people seemed friendlier, more respectful and tolerant. But those things were just skin deep.

While it’s shocking to see our true selves erupt, it also brings things out into the open, where we can deal with the fear, lack of empathy and downright hatefulness. It is true I have lost friends and family members in the past year. But I am coming to terms with the reality that these people who were nice to my face were not really my friends after all.

So yes, I am grateful. My life is enriched all the more by relationships built on trust. And when I miss those who are no longer part of my circle, I remind myself that I only miss the illusion of what we had. How can you miss something that never was?

Have a great week. Be true to you and yours in this brave new world we live in where authenticity is a priceless treasure. Peace!

Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 30 July 2017

if only we’d lingered,
forever bound
basking in warm memories
to create lives worth living
because actions speak louder
heaven bending near
getting nowhere very fast
with a spot of rouge
I laughed it off at the time as crazy
heartless fools can’t see
pie is all about the crust, honey
suspended, graceful,
in the here and now
dance with me my love
poison devouring us
the world grows restless

~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.


Magnetic Poetry Saturday

As always, the magnets had a lot to say this sleepy Saturday morning. 

peace is not somewhere

out there, a thing to

make or long for

it murmurs deep

in your soul when

the world grows restless

dark secrets are a

poison devouring us

slowly from the 

inside out

dance with me my love

and if  you can’t hear the

music, listen to the beat

of my heart for it is

playing our song

some live as though

death is lying in the

shadows to rip us

from the day…never

dreaming, crushed by

bitter fear…no life

in the here and now
~kat

A collection of poems using the Nature, Poet, Love, and Original kits found at Magnetic Poetry Online. 


Ballon -Friday’s Word of the Day


Today’s word of the day at Dictionary.com is a French word: “ballon”. At first I wondered if it was a typo. “Shouldn’t that be ‘balloon’?” I thought. And then I looked at the definition and especially the origin of the word. It all began to make sense. From dictionary.com:

Origin of ballon
Ballon is a French term used especially in ballet, describing a dancer who appears to be floating in the air while executing a jump or other movement, like “His Airness,” Michael Jordan. Earlier English spellings of the word include balonne, baloune, and balloone as well as balloon. The original sense of the word in the early 17th century was “ball,” specifically a large, sturdy, inflated leather ball hit with the arms protected with wooden boards or kicked like a soccerball. By the late 17th century ballon and balloon had developed the meaning “a large globular glass vessel” used for chemical distillation; and by the late 18th century, balloon (thus spelled) also meant “a round, flexible, airtight bag that rises into the air when inflated with heated air or gas.” Balloon becomes the standard English spelling in the late 17th century. Ballon, as a ballet term, entered English in the 19th century.

So, ballon in ballet is about floating on air, and balloons? Well they are floaty orbs, unless they’re filled with water or made of glass. I got the impression that the original balloon was more about its shape than its floating qualities. And then I started to think of round, inflated ballerinas bursting at the seams of their leotards, tutus stretched tight and stiff around their middles, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

Which came first the ballon or the balloon? The latter, of course. Ballon, in ballet, entered the English vocabulary rather late to the dance in the 19th century. We humans had been filling animal bladders and other hollow bulbous things for centuries.

Somewhere between heaven and earth the idea of floating on air became associated with balloons and voila! We now have ballon to help us describe the amazing acrobatic, gravity-defying leaps of ballerinas. Being inflated and puffy not required!

I’m feeling silly today. I best give you my Haiku. Have a great weekend!

suspended, graceful,
the skilled ballon of dancers
defies gravity

~kat