from Sheol’s dark depths
the sweat and tears of cursed souls
filled to brim longing
~kat
For TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge, prompt words Depth and Fill, inspired by TJ’s photo above. A Haiku Hub Event.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Arting and Humming
My twins, coloring. ~kat
Nowadays, I hum when I make art. I’m not sure why. It is not usually a recognizable tune; more like a droning purr of random notes. I suspect it is my left brain overflowing; bits of my soul released to be splashed onto a canvas, sculpted in clay, or scribbled on a page. I’ve been accused of being a bit crazy because of the humming. Or maybe it just drives others crazy because they can’t hear the music. All I do know, or am, at the very least, most certain of, is that art and music make me happy and touches the core of my being in ways that I can’t describe. So I hum and I art.
art by numbers
left-brain daubs inside the lines
magnum opus dreams
right-brain wild synapses
purr in rhapsody, the muse
~kat
For Colleen’s Taibun/Tanka Tuesday, prompt words Art and Music (Rhapsody).
Magnetic Poetry Monday
would that I could
remember the good
old days that
fools celebrate
and long for…
all I see is how
broken we were
~kat
Magnetic Poetry – Poet Kit
Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 9 July 2017
There is a full moon outside my window. The sky is almost cloudless and the moonlight is washing everything in a pale frosted glow.
During the day when the sun is bright and high in the sky we are told as children not to look directly at it for fear of damaging our eyes. But it is in the cool shadowy hours of the night when we can gaze directly at the sun’s reflection on the face of the moon. It is not in fact moonlight that we see, for the moon has no light of her own, but it is the sun’s reflection.
Sometimes I feel like the moon. Face half hidden in cool gray matte while the other half brightly glows … or like the moon in its phases, in full face glow or completely hidden, shadowed in gray.
I need to remind myself that I am not a moon. I am not meant to be a reflector of everything around me. But that can be a daunting task when faced with the troubles of our times. It seems so much easier to turn inward when the going gets rough.
But the truth is I am much more like the sun. Reminds me of the little Sunday school song many of us happily sang as youngsters…”this little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…let it shine…let it shine…let it shine.
We can’t afford to brood; to become reflectors of light hoping to deflect the darkness, because we are suns. If we don’t let the little sparks within us shine the world will just get darker.
Thank goodness for the dawn and its daily reminder that offers an example to each of us to rise anew, to be light and hope, warmth and healing from the inside out.
“This little light of mine…I’m gonna let it shine…let it shine…let it shine…let it shine…Have a wonderful week. Your light gives me hope.
Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 9 July 2017
nature’s song in green
got her
it was a good death, as deaths go
but it could be true
parched, we are drowning
those who dream dance on
their dreams frail as dust
to greening flush and browning
driving us mad
with longing
as though they are gods
out on digital screens
~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
empires battle for
the planet, hacking
servers, making
memes, war played
out on digital screens
gigabyte, bit bot
programmed streams
but beware the
evil microwave!
remember when heroes
could be trusted to
keep their promises,
fighting for honor
and all things good
and true………but
only blind devotees
believe the powerful
as though they are gods
your perfume lingers
a blush on the breeze
and I am but a
fool overcome
with longing
driving us mad
moaning and drooling
from sweet sleep we lie
in cool sweaty beds
delirious, but there are
those who say these
dreams are not
meaningless
for they bare
our souls
~kat
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