The Narcissist – March 23, 2016

written from somewhere inside
a fantasy
or mystery
but who holds the pen

and those words echoing
across a sea of static
and yet so well-known
who speaks them

in a murky wilderness
without rhyme or reason
unbeknownst to anyone
he walked by
snapping a photograph

he caught … the narcissist
reflecting upon his soul
preening in dark waters …
mysterious are the words written
this  bright spring morning.

© G.s.k. ‘16

Photo Challenge #105

The Novitiate – Gothic Horror – March 16, 2016

pulled by clouds- Brooke Shaden

– Brooke Shaden

The glare of the sullen sunset beamed upon the lone novitiate who would be ordained to the night, in the cathedral-like structure dedicated to Lady Nyctophilia – patroness of those who lurk in the gloom. Ironically, she’d been quite the eristic and really very clever in her negation of vampires and the sort, yet there she stood, looking like a puppet with irregular strings attached about her head, ready to be pulled into the very heavens.  One couldn’t deny however,  that she really wasn’t quite herself.

Going back just a few hours before, she’d walked into the Metropolitan to meet her young man, a handsome swarthy gentleman, *oriundo from Sardegna, or so he’d said.  She sat down at his table and he asked the waiter to bring him the lady’s drink and the soda siphon.  She’d gotten used to his quirky idea that he should personally splash her drink from the soda siphon. This time however, the siphon had been sophisticated and contained a subtle drug.  She drank her drink and gradually began to feel detached from herself.

He led her out of the hotel and that  was the last time anyone from her set would ever see her.  He put her into a Rolls Royce which actually belonged to the “Lady Nyctophilia”, known to everyone else as the Countess of San Severino.  She was driven to the Cathedral of the Night.  Once she arrived, she was disrobed and a tiny tattoo was placed upon her just above the erogenous zone known as the mount of Venus.  What followed would terrorize you or I, but she was beyond terror, in the Rolls the swarthy young man, had made passionate love to her and she was now his, in body and soul – as testified the two tiny marks upon her neck.

© G.s.k. ‘16


*oriundo – native (of a place, especially a native of Italy but living abroad)

Photo Challenge #104 and Wordle #101 “March 14, 2016”

1.Glare 2. Nyctophilia (a love or preference for night, darkness) 3. Novitiate (the state or period of being a novice of a religious order or congregation. the quarters occupied by religious novices during probation. the state or period of being a beginner in anything. a novice.) 4. Structure 5. Tattoo 6. Eristic (a person who engages in debate; conversationalist. the art of disputation.) 7. Erogenous 8. Irregular 9. Adjust 10. Lurk 11. Siphon 12. Terrorize

Alone with Marigold – Kyrielle Sonnet – March 11, 2016


Reflected in the wilderness
Hunger, thirst and then deep darkness
She walked alone with Marigold
Along her path both fine and bold.

To take give counsel she went north –
To her enemy she went forth –
Unto the city as foretold
Along her path both fine and bold.

She never fainted nor gave praise
But freedom’s banner she did raise
Her name was never known I’m told
Along her path both fine and bold.

Reflected in the wilderness
Along her path both fine and bold.

© G.s.k. ‘16


From Sunday Whirligig 49, The week’s words came from Psalm 107:1-13: wilderness, hungry, thirsty, works, darkness, counsel, thanks, enemy, north, city, fainted, praise

Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge and B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond – Kyrielle Sonnet

My Kyrielle Sonnet isn’t based upon anyone from the “real” world.  I just imagined how the once tiny girl in the photograph, from her childhood adventures with her cat might have grown into a bold decisive woman.

Ode to A Mask – Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – March 4, 2016

Ode to a Mask

Hidden in a plaster mask
For all the world to see,
Covered in bright feathers
A cockatoo waddles past.

Fancy dress at carnival,
Walking down the grand canal and
Yet another peacock cries
Dressed in orange and fur.

“What know you of her past?”
I asked my tourist guide ..
“A princess or a pauper?
“Who knows!” his shrugged reply.

For now we’re in September
Long past is Mardi Gras
No longer is it fun
To see her masked facade.

Hidden in a plaster mask
Dressed in feathers and silk
Once she was a beauty queen,
Now she’s just a ghost.

© G.s.k. ‘16

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Photo Challenge and B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond (ODE)

The three Sadhu – Haibun – February 12, 2016


Sadhu by Sukanto Debnath CC BY 2.0

They are the backbone of faith, the mystics, wise men, the Sadhu. They sat with Gautama Siddhartha through his long months of fasting contemplating Brahman. They refused to cheapen their spirit by touching, thinking or breathing impurities and never fell to the temptations of those who dangled their promises of ease, wealth or fame. Yet, they fell, and failed to achieve mokṣa by refusing the middle way.  But they are still the backbone of faith, the mystics, the wise men, the Sadhu.

three sat with Him
reviled Him when He ate
they still – sit

© G.s.k. ’16

The photograph came from: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie: Photo Prompt #99 February 9, 2016 entitled: Sadhu by Sukanto Debnath CC BY 2.0

I’ve also used the three words furnished the week on 3 Word Wednesday:

Backbone, noun: spine, spinal column, vertebral column, vertebrae; back,

mainstay, cornerstone, foundation, chief support, buttress, pillar, tower of strength, strength of character, strength of will, firmness, resolution, resolve, determination, fortitude, pluck, pluckiness, nerve, courage, mettle, spirit, moral fiber, guts, spunk, grit, true grit.

Cheapen, verb: demean, debase, degrade, lower, humble, devalue, abase, discredit, disgrace, dishonour, shame, humiliate, mortify, prostitute, reduce, lower (in price), cut, mark down, discount, slash.

Dangle, verb: hang (down), droop, swing, sway, wave, trail, stream, wave, swing, jiggle, brandish, flourish, offer, hold out; entice someone with, tempt someone with.

Encounter of Ages – Free Verse – December 26, 2016

On this cold winter’s day
I look onto perfection
The meeting of dawn’s light
And the closing of day
This marvel of creation
Lay arm in arm together …
In this momentous moment
My heart fills with peace
My mind knows true love
As the spring and the winter
Come together I sigh with awe …
Now life’s continuity
Through its endless cycles
Is no longer a stale thought
But a vibrant reality
As I look onto this scene
Of the encounter of the ages
On this cold winter’s day

© G.s.k. ‘15

Photo Challenge #92 December 22, 2015

She’ll Call Someday – Free Verse – December 8, 2015


A ragamuffin – an orphan Annie
[or could she be a Raggedy Ann]
her innocence lies in her smile
illusive and sombre as a child’s
yet her hair flares out and flies
[a witch’s mane in moonlit skies]
enchantress – she’ll call to you
you’ll reply that you always knew
there’d come a day when she’d call
[that would be the day of your fall]
but for now … she’s just a fantasy
tickling behind your fragile sanity.

© G.s.k. ‘15

Photo Challenge #90 December 8, 2015

Distorted but Accepted – Blitz Poem – December 2, 2015

Distorted but Accepted

just so many mirrors
just images distorted

distorted but illusive
distorted and unloved

unloved by the viewer
unloved and be damned

damned visions of hatred
damned visions of fear

fear of the shadows
fear of what’s in my head

head full of impressions
head full of duty

[duty to be perfect
duty to please

please all of the teachers
please all of the world

world of competition
world of judgments

judgments and condemnations
judgments of my failures

failures to conform
failures to perform

perform like a monkey
perform like a clown

clown, clown cry and wail
clown (the joke is on me)

me and my shadow – my mirror
me seeing myself in you]

you walk bright and tall
you know everything

everything is a lesson
everything is your show

show and tell everyday
show everyone how bright you are

are you too aware …
are you too like I am

am I your mirrored reflection
am I your accuser and Nemesis

Nemesis to be defeated
Nemesis or no, maybe an ally

ally to be cultivated
ally to be understood

understood and embraced
understood and accepted

accepted as part of yourself
accepted with compassionate love



© G.s.k. ‘15


Photo Challenge #89 December 1, 2015  and  Writing Prompt #135 “We hate most in others, what we dislike in ourselves”








Shadows of the Night – Chained Tanka – November 26, 2015


Shadows of the Night

shadows in the night
elongated – nameless
black wraiths walking
from alley to square – aware
of nothing but lamp lights

and the dampness
filters through the ancient walls
entering old bones
glancing through dirty windows
the city reverberates

dust and darkness
in an old city square – lost
a homeless kitten
ignored by passersby
but so are homeless people

black wraiths walking
nameless – elongated
shadows of the night
seeming – hidden as day breaks
yes – inside angry men’s hearts.

© G.s.k. ‘15

Image Credits:  Nelson L “shadows will always follow us” CC BY 2.0

Photo Challenge # 88 November 24, 2015

A Walk in the Fog – Haibun – November 17, 2015

She walked in the fog, along the back acres of an old abandoned farm. The nearly bare trees of late autumn seemed to hold out their branches, like arms tending dark comfort to a lost soul.  The outhouses seemed to have stood for many years completely abandoned. The fencing reduced to strands of spider-web like metal, created streamers of rust held together by the memory of wire.

The wind rustled softly through the trees causing a rain-fall of dead leaves.  She heard the sound of a siren somewhere in the distance and then the distant rumble of thunder followed by a flash of lightening.

A sudden crash came from the undergrowth. There standing before her was a roe. Bright beautiful eyes gazed calmly at her, there was no fear, no apprehension and no curiosity.  It was as though she weren’t there at all.  She moved towards the roe which continued to ignore her.  She reached out her hand to touch the roe, but discovered she couldn’t.

More thunder, this time loud enough to seem like the crash of a bomb – an instant later the white flash of lightening followed by the sound of pouring rain.

She awoke with a start and set up in her bed.  A storm she thought, her dream faded rapidly and was soon almost forgotten, except for a vague sense of unease that settled in her soul.  Not wanting to go back to sleep, she turned on the light, arose from her bed and went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Grabbing a couple of cookies, she went into the dining room.  There on the wall she saw the large Indian ink print she’d bought that afternoon and thought of the back acres of an old farm immersed in a wooded cove on a foggy day.

late autumn night
winter stalks the country-side
dead leaves fall like rain



This haibun was inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Tuesday Photo Challenge #87: November 17, 2015 – what would appear to be a photo seems to actually be a fascinating ink drawing.  Click the link on the photo and enlarge it … thanks Pat for a great experience!