Author Archives: katherine filomarino

Language Workbench Poem

BUTT AY halve hadd mei phil
Of the SUMMAR’ESSE myths and fables galore,
NOH morr leight nite escapes upp tue the shorr.
NIGHTS gau buy and I here the laughs, sew shrill
And carefree, knot tired ohr full of fright.
AYE mite
FOUR what it’ESS wurth,
Take SOMER bak into mei embrace, werry
Of the deceit, lise, and deceptions yett
TWO bee unearthed.
WON caen no what troubles mee,
The longing in mai voice must make it cleere.
WAI must it b
SEW, that the brite SUMMORS of yesteryear,
Long, dreamy, full of excitement and glee,
ENDE with a dim sunset.

Proxy Poem

Sleek, black knock-off brand sunglasses stick to my face

Around my brow,

And sweat’s beading upon my forehead now

Above them, fighting hard to stay in place

Beads of sweat begin to trickle down slow.

I am done with this heat; it’s time to go.

Essence of Summer is thick in the air,

The scent of salt water: drowning my thoughts.

Fixed in the classroom I think it unfair

And frankly absurd that I am not free

To run to the beach to take some snapshots

Enjoying life, spending time by the sea.

I marveled at the thought, smile on my face.

But I must say

Walking to class does fill me with dismay,

And by Tuesday

Who knows what form my dreaming will embrace.

Ocean waves grand and small, come to meet my toes

On the sand, cool and fresh,

Each wave casting away all of my woes.

The Sun not only shines his rays of light,

He kisses my skin and tempts me to stay.

But he betrays me; his kiss burns my flesh.

And I keep returning to the beach, to

The Ocean’s spray

Of lies and broken promises; untrue!

But I have had my fill

Of the Summer’s myths and fables galore,

No more late night escapes up to the shore.

Nights go by and I hear the laughs, so shrill

And carefree, not tired or full of fright.

I might

For what it’s worth,

Take Summer back into my embrace, wary

Of the deceit, lies, and deceptions yet

To be unearthed.

One can know what troubles me,

The longing in my voice must make it clear.

Why must it be

So, that the bright Summers of yesteryear,

Long, dreamy, full of excitement and glee,

End with a dim sunset.

 

A Natural Escape

 

Water runs freely and creates deep,

crystal clear pools.

 

Great spruce trees and pines stretch to the sky

and grow lush and green.

 

Stop…and listen.

 

Listen to the water as it trickles over the stones;

Listen to the roars of distant waterfalls as they make

their presence known.

 

Stop…and smell.

 

Smell the subtle yet familiar scents of

the great Red Cedars, the Sitka Spruces, the Western Hemlocks,

and the Douglas-firs.

 

Stop and feel.

 

Feel Mother Earth’s embrace;

let the warmth of the sun invite you,

let the headiness of all the scents entice you,

let the waters give you a sense of calm,

let the trees take you back home.

 

Stop…and just be.

 

Escape from the concrete jungle

if only for a moment.

Escape from the maddening crowd,

if only for a while,

and just be. 

Escape Event

(1) Water runs freely and creates deep,

crystal clear pools.

(2) Great spruce trees and pines stretch to the sky

and grow lush and green.

 

(3) Stop…and listen.

 

(4) Listen to the water as it trickles over the stones;

Listen to the roars of distant waterfalls as they make

their presence known.

 

(5) Stop…and smell.

 

(6) Smell the subtle yet familiar scents of

the great Red Cedars, the Sitka Spruces, the Western Hemlocks,

and the Douglas-firs.

 

(7) Stop…and feel.

 

(8) Feel Mother Earth’s embrace;

let the warmth of the sun invite you,

let the headiness of all the scents entice you,

let the waters give you a sense of calm,

let the trees take you back home.

 

(9) Stop…and just be.

 

(10) Escape from the concrete jungle

if only for a moment.

Escape from the maddening crowd,

if only for a while,

And just be.

Cruel Fate

Sitting under a great elm

Looking out past the horizon

I watched,

Engrossed

As the sun slowly set behind the ocean.

The colours were brilliant;

A plethora of shades

Of red, and orange, and yellow.

 

As I sat, I began to think of you.

The way you laughed

The way you smiled

The way you held me when I was a small child.

 

I think about how you were present in every moment,

How you lived life to the fullest and taught me

To just be.

 

Then I start to think about how cruel the Fates were

When they stole you away.

Those cursed sisters.

If only they would allow me to see you

Even for a fleeting moment

Just to hear you laugh again

To see you smile again

To hold your hand in mine

One last time.

 

In my anger and pain, I called out to the sisters,

“Why?”

 

To which they replied

“Cruel fate.”