My Poetry

Two haiku that I wrote recently. I have only written a few and find them very challenging and frustrating to work on, but I like the way that they turn out. I hope you like them. They are both based on the show Nurse Jackie that I binge-watched on Netflix when I was very sick.

Resigned

Well that’s life in the

Balkins, said the dying man,

quoting an old friend.

 

A Haiku

Don’t eat by the urine!

the administrator screamed,

Nurse Jackie’s E.R.

My Poetry

A Rude Winter Poem

so how cold
is it?
he said over the phone

okay I’ll play

vags close up
breasts grow perky

testicles go north
though they wish
they’d gone south

snot icicles appear
toes try to run away

ears hide and weep
you hear them snuffling
under the hats and scarfs

well he chuckled
that’s what you
get
for living
in Minnesota

I don’t live here!
I was born here

been in 20 states
lived in 2 more

is it my fault
I have a connection
to the land?

though I develop
a sneaking suspicion
by mid-winter
that it doesn’t exist

I might be deluding
myself on that

How warm is it?

Mid-60s he says.

Go to hell!
laughter, not mine
No I take that back
it’s even warmer there

Go to Antarctica!

My Poetry

Cruelty Rejoices

When someone shows you who they are believe them.”
~ Maya Angelou

why would you say that to me?
to see your reaction
he would always say

it was the same
reaction every time
hurt dismay

but

I used to think
that truth
was elsewhere

now I know
he was telling the truth
cruelty rejoices
when inflicting pain

the sight of it
so sweet

sometimes kindness is the lie

in word and deed
he was telling the truth
about himself
cruelty is one
of the most honest things

~ Kate

My Poetry

At Seventeen

at seventeen
my best friend
was a
fir tree

a giant fir tree
on the edge
of a windbreak
on an old farm

facing northwest
hunkered in the snow
it reached
high and wide

at seventeen
returned to parents
after 18 months away
freedom

just 6 more months
I tell myself
refused old school
more abusers there

in a fish bowl
with 4 others
in 3 rooms, all winter
none of them love me

seeking refuge
bundled up
crunching snow
daily retreat

scrunch down
under tree
look up at limbs
start climbing

up 30 feet, or more
look to the horizon
facing northwest
daydreaming of freedom

of spring

so many winters later
realization dawns
I still look
to the northwest

My Poetry

Next Year is Leap Year

next year is leap year
and so my mind
started to whirl

if by next year
I fall in love
with someone
worthy of me

if next year
my body has
less pain
my mind
more clarity

if next year
I meet
someone who
wants to see me

and wants to
be with me
then let them
I say

if next year
I think
I breathe
I live

maybe
maybe
so

maybe, I say,
let love
come for me

but if
next year
someone loves me
enough
and if
I love them enough

let them ask

the mind ran wild
in one moment
just figuring out
next year
the year
of leaping

sometimes sexism
works that way
automatically
without thought
showing indoctrination,
occupation of the mind

men can
offer marriage
every year
women only
every fourth

does that
mean we are
only one
fourth as good?

or four times as good?

but why can’t we
just be
equal?

~ Kate

My Poetry

One of Us Was Telling the Truth

driving home after dark
well lit street
biking along
green light
open road

suddenly scared
car swerves quickly
into bike lane

stops short
blocks me
not turning
it hovers

I yelled
telling him
what I thought
and felt

as car turned
his head and shoulders
thrust bizarrely
out the window
slurred, “I love you too!”

one of us
was sober

one of us
won’t forget

one of us
told the truth

~ Kate

My Poetry

My revenge visualizations are a grouping of poems we write that address revenge that our system feels to our child sexual abusers. They are only poems, nothing more, but some of them are more descriptive than others, as such, I wanted to include a warning about the poems, they may be difficult or unsettling to read or process. Please use caution when reading.

Revenge Visualization #7

he wakes

from dreaming

though it is

his own screams

that wake him

sweat drenched

and shaking

he shuffles to

the bathroom

attempting to

shake off the dream

of being trampled by

mother elephants

in their rage

of him coming

too close to their

babies

returning to the

bedroom

he moves to

stand by the window

outside

below

I stand

staring up

at the moon

face lit,

smiling.

~ Kate