Daily Haibun, August 4th – Whisper and Echoes


My mind is full of whispers and echoes. One inner saboteur saying an unkind nearly true thing. The rest of the choir chiming in with their own versions. Until it’s a cacophony swirling around.

It’s been like this as long as I can remember. I both long for and dread achievements. For they start such storms inside. Such deep self-doubt and loathing. I never learned to feel a sense of accomplishment. I never got told anything was good enough. I was always found lacking.

I’ve done my darnedest best to ignore this for most of my life. But that have made it louder not made it go away. I’ve met with derision when I tried to talk about it. Who doesn’t take pride in achievements?

Going forward I know, my mind and feelings are the biggest hurdles to overcome. The most likely thing to trip me up is ME.

But I’m done being ashamed of having learnt to be ashamed of everything about myself. And those that can’t handle that is no friends of mine.

A storm is brewing

Dark clouds roiling and rumbling

Waiting for a spark

© RedCat



Read other Haibun’s written for the monthly dVerse prompt by me here.

Read other Daily Haibun’s here.


New Growth – After “Roots” by Frida Kahlo

“Roots” 1943 by Frida Kahlo

A glimmer of hope and faith
Let’s seeds of hope germinate
Growing tender shoots
Sending out questing roots
Searching for purchase in the arid plain
Watered by tears of grief and pain


Growing stronger each day
As the soul realizes she may
Free the muses to let creativity flow
Allow faith in budding ability to grow
Trust in the Goddess boon
Receive nourishment from sun and moon


Evolve according to the season
Follow the heart’s bright beacon
Until passion sings in the blood
Flowing freely, transforming the lifeless mud
Into rich and fertile earth
Where a scarred soul might find rebirth

©RedCat


Inspired by “Roots” by Frida Kahlo and written for this week’s Sunday Muse.

I’m so happy to get a chance to write to an artist whose artwork and life story has always inspired me greatly.

Also shared with the Writers’ Pantry at Poets and Storytellers United, and Promote Yourself Monday at Go Dog Go Café.


Photo credits in descending order

Photo by Russ Ward on Unsplash

Photo by Christian Joudrey on Unsplash

Firework by Katy Perry – Saturday Song

Firework by Katy Perry

After writing both As I Reap The Dreams That I Have Sown and August Approaches yesterday, I decided that tonight’s Saturday Song had to be one about overcoming obstacles, adversity, challenges and hard times. About not giving up, even when that’s all you feel like doing. I found this list of songs about all that. So I started to read lyrics and the choice fell on Firework by Katy Perry

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from cavin’ in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing

From Firework by Katy Perry

I know exactly how that feels. But now I have to get away from that, find my voice, develop my passion and allow my light to shine bright.

Enjoy!



Firework – Lyrics

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from cavin’ in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there’s still a chance for you?
‘Cause there’s a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
You’re gonna leave ’em all in awe, awe, awe

You don’t have to feel like a waste of space
You’re original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow
Maybe a reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow
And when it’s time, you’ll know

You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
You’re gonna leave ’em all in awe, awe, awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
It’s always been inside of you, you, you
And now it’s time to let it through

‘Cause baby, you’re a firework
Come on, show ’em what you’re worth
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
As you shoot across the sky
Baby, you’re a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make ’em go, “Oh, oh, oh”
You’re gonna leave ’em all in awe, awe, awe

Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon
Boom, boom, boom
Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

Source: LyricFind
Song writers: Esther Dean, Sandy Julien Wilhelm, Tor Erik Hermansen, Mikkel Storleer Eriksen, Katheryn Hudson
Lyric to Firework © Peermusic Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc, BMG Rights Management, DistroKid
Firework by Katy Perry

Firework photo credit: Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash

Solitude and I (2020 Re-post)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Abandoned and abused, I grew to fear you
But in truth, I where reared by you

Bullied as other, ostracized by my peers
Alone with daily jeers, leers and snears
Childhood and adolescence, year after year
Branding me as strange and queer

Yours the only company to keep me near
Convincing me I’m a mere shadow
Not really alive, not supposed to be here

Developed intimate knowledge of all your tiers
As loneliness you have tooth and claws that tear
Lead chains that trust steer
Forged by every untruth spear
Betrayal heart and soul sear
Invisible barriers separating, from those you hold dear

Dark lonely nights your visits I fear
Haunted hours filled with tears
Leaving me hollow and sheer
As pale dawn washes the heavens clear

After becoming a mother, I’ve started to befriend you, we’re
Old pals, whatever the history, that’s clear
Nowadays I even hold our moments dear
Filled with new knowledge, hope and trust
I’ll never again from my own side veer

All that I seek
I can find within my own heart soul sphere

© REDCAT

Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

Re-post comment:

Loneliness has been much on my mind and in my feelings the last couple of weeks. Both the kind is need and seek. And the kind that can make me feel wholly alone in a room full of people.

So this poem is this week’s archive find.

Enjoy!



This piece where not something I wished to write, but perhaps needed to write, as whatever I thought about the subject solitude – that I express both it and loneliness quite often – got drowned out by this piece rhymes running in loops in my mind.

In the prompt Björn writes;
In today’s situation of social distancing, we all have taken a crash course in loneliness, and when learning to cope. Today I would like you to write about your own experience with how you find strength in solitude or how you still struggle with loneliness.


I’ve Been Stuck


I’ve been stuck
Going neither forward nor back
Running in circles
Trapped in this inbetween space
Waiting for change
Lost in this way station place

Stationary, yet running around
Collecting stationery, but never writing a line
Screaming myself hoarse
Unable to harness my creative force
Muse hiding, afraid of more abuse
Shying away, like a spooked horse, whenever anyone got near

Now a path has opened, vivid and clear
My inner Goddess always near

I found out, you see
I’m willing to fight doubt and monsters to be free

©RedCat


Inspired by some reawakened inner turmoil and three different prompts. Sammi Cox’s weekend writing prompt. This weekend’s given word is vivid, and the word count is 89 words. Mindlovemisery’s double take, where the homophones horse and stationary are given. And this Wednesday’s scribbling, waystation, at Poets and Storytellers United, which I missed so posting to the Writers’ Pantry instead.


Homophone sets:

horse – animal
hoarse – lack of voice

and

stationery – pen, paper, envelope etc.
stationary – still, unmoving


Photo by Dan Asaki on Unsplash

The Garden – A Prose Poem

Photo by Cosmic Timetraveler on Unsplash

For many years the garden lay neglected.
Fallow,
overgrown with sorrow weeds and thorny trauma brambles.
Creative stream choked off,
the source strangled by fear.
No longer filling the deep story pool.
Unable to attract sparkling dragonflies of fantasy,
buzzing idea bees or paradise birds flights of fancy.

The weeping willow shedding its leaves in grief.
Becoming naked skeleton of raking nightmare fingers.
The starving muse wilts and fades.
Retreating into dark amnesic mist under the onslaught of anxiety rain,
depressive storms.

A bolt of awakened lightning sheared through the bruised cloud cover.
Putting the strangling weeds in flames.
Rekindling the suffocated creative fire.
Birthing a fierce Phoenix from the flames.
Rousing the sleeping muse with a song of newfound life.
Hailing the first ray of kind sunlight.
Praising the smatter of nurturing rain.

Now the garden blooms and grows.
Tended by the muse and the soul Phoenix.
The brook babbles and laughs as it flows.
The air is filled with fragrance,
the sound of wings of every shape and size.
Safe in the knowledge their host will never again,
let anything her creativity compromise.

©RedCat

Photo by Jie on Unsplash

Written for Poetics: Garden(ing) at dVerse. As I took my evening walk, thinking about gardens and gardening. This is what came to mind. Following a thought about one of the first writing communities I found “Imaginary garden with real toads”. A place that made me feel welcome and a place who’s kind encouragement kept me writing through all my doubts, making me think that I could do this. I know many of you might have a hard time believing it. But I’ve been writing poetry for less than two years. I’m still finding my way and my voice.

This is not the first and probably won’t be the last time I’ve written something very personal to a prompt. My writing is both pent up creativity poured out, and a form of dealing with and working through everything that’s happened to me.


Photo by Jeff Finley on Unsplash

Malleable Strawmen of Gold


We’re all born malleable lumps of clay.
Full of hidden nuggets of unformed gold.
Strawmen built of experience strands of hay.

Able to ourselves shape, reshape and mold.
Rebuild from the ruins, rise from the ashes.
Take trauma and rare origami gems fold.

To withstand tormenting flashbacks flashes.
Find meaning when all seems utterly lost.
Capture fleeting hope that by us dashes.

Change orbit to no longer be star-crossed.
Listen to the voice in our hearts and soul.
Let passion heal, lift our spirits aloft.

Let hurt go, take charge, be in control.
Reassemble the pieces to a new whole.

©RedCat

Written for this week’s Sunday Muse.
Also shared with Writers’ Pantry #74: Words, words, glorious words.

Written in the Terza Rima pattern. Which I tried a few times before.
In Raven Dream Flight, Open, Accept, Surrender and In The Badger Sett.


On the Cusp of a Dream Achieved (2020 Re-post)

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Re-post comment:

This Pantoum sums up the way I’ve been feeling for a couple of weeks now. Again achieving things I long for and dream about sends me into a tailspin of deep self doubt, shame and anxiety. So I thought it fitting to make this the archive find for this week.



On the cusp of a dream achieved
Truth of inner worth freed
Bone deep self doubt revealed
Planted with every unmet need

Truth of inner worth freed
A girl bred to never succeed
Planted with every unmet need
She never learnt how to receive

A girl bred to never succeed
A light shone where kind self-love breeds
She never learnt how to receive
Sorrow joy supersede

A light shone where kind self-love breeds
Bone deep self doubt revealed
Sorrow joy supersede
On the cusp of a dream achieved

© REDCAT

I refuse to let my current depressive slide stop my writing. So today I sat down to see if I could write a poem about my truth, my life, and the added stress that accounts for the current mood.

I long known I self-sabotage and have trouble receiving positive praise, but I didn’t know it ran this deep. I thought sending the submissions out where the struggle. The last weeks have shown me, that success and actually achieving a lifelong dream, with grace and real joy, is the real struggle and it’s only just begun.

This is one of my favorite linked forms, a pantoum.

My process for writing a pantoum goes something like this…

The pattern is ABCD, BEDF, EGFH, GCHA. Since line A and C becomes both the start and end I usually write the first and last stanza, then the middle ones.

Also shared to dVerse’s Open Link Night.


Photo by ready made on Pexels.com

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