All posts tagged alliteration

Celebrating Autumn

Published October 7, 2017 by kdorholt

The trees brilliant–
burnished crimson, rust,
and varied yellow hues
lit by harvest sun.
Leaves rustled by the
crisp, cleansing air.
Eventually drifting
like monarchs to
the ground
forming mounds of
nature’s autumn jewels.
A generous gift,
this crescendo
of seasons. Yes!

No! My soul cries–
Decay smothers me,
bombarding my eyes
with beguiling beauty
Blood red and
jaundiced yellow abound.
Leaves withered with
blight-brown blotches
blown by remorseless
whorls of whining wind.
A season of cynically
seductive scenes.
A cataclysmic caution:
Death’s deceiving decimation.


Summer’s Valediction (9/22/17)

Published October 3, 2017 by kdorholt

I remember the book
and the small summer lake
encompassing loon lullabies

Dragonfly wings humming
at the sodden shore
among the new-sprung cattails

A southwest wind
rippling the water
into glistening waves

Weaving the wild grass
to hieroglyphics
my hair to ringlets

A soul gleaming
with summer expectations
and season’s stories

Each page I turned
held a memory
it seemed

Each sentence
I read
a simple song.


Published October 2, 2017 by kdorholt

Still holding
my breath
got easier
the longer
I walked
the farther

Second nature
to dignity
I looked
straight ahead
never toward
the men

Corroding catcalls
confined me
suppressive shocks
intent intruders
trespassing in
indefensible terms

I disappeared
a cipher
for security
for sanity
for purity
from shame

Which god
gave permission
Whose religion
imprimatured them—
I prayed
for redemption.



Sometimes Thirsty (Seniors at the A&W Drive-In)

Published September 30, 2017 by kdorholt

*Summer days were just a whisper when I wrote this poem, but they were present enough to make me long for an iced mug of root beer. From that desire, a memory sprang to mind about trips to the A&W Drive-in when I was younger and, consequently, the time I smashed a glob of ice cream from a float into the cheek of a boy I was dating. I am not proud of my action–it’s terrible. Yet . . . still . . . C’est la vie? (Written on 5/15/17.)

Sometimes, thirsty in
the not-quite-summer,
I remember your
still-unsunnied cheek
its ideal indentation–
an innocent unspoken
adolescent invitation–

The ice cream
about-to-melt scoop,
fecklessly floating
atop my
un-sipped A&W . . .
A faultless fit

The two become one.
Unbecoming–but fun!
(for the other)

Two Poems in Reaction: the 2016 Election

Published September 30, 2017 by kdorholt

*As the title suggest these are two poems in reaction to Trump’s election. Warning: I am progressive and liberal, so if you aren’t, you might not want to read the first poem written on 11/9/16. I haven’t been able to decide an a title. The working one is the simple “Here are the Men”

The second poem, “The Blue Dress” focuses on the treatment of Melania Trump on Inauguration Day.


Here are the men that you elected
Your finest choices
Your creme de la creme
Try to feast now on their drivel
produced by vacant virtues
through clouded chicanery
and hollow hearts

It will be vacuous
not a driblet
of nourishment will
it provide the people’s
or your palate.
You cannot survive
on surreal supposition

But you will try . . .
You will be coaxed
into cruel cooperation
and give “it” one more try
sucking up every word
in want of sure sustenance
while the rest of the world
watches you wither

You will call foul
and thunder blame
in the world of your wishes
but no one will hear you–
Your voices overflow
with words that human beings
can no longer comprehend.
You will wind with unwilling others

Down your drain of deceit and corruption
You will feel their fearful fingers
clutch at you for comfort
but you will only callously care.
You will look to “your men”
for more assurance–
more vicious validation

And they will answer
with nothing of value
or worth or honor
But you will feel fed
Refreshed once more
by their disregard
ignorance, derision, and disdain.


The Blue Dress
(Reflections on Inauguration Day:1/20/2017)

Talk about
the blue dress . . .
a faultless fit
for only her
body and soul
feel your heart soar
studying the flowing curve
of its subdued splendor
be dazzled by her
china chiseled eyes
prepared for performance
made more brilliant
by blue’s luster

talk about
the blue dress . . .
skimming across her
shoulders and cascading
to the matching gloves
cede attention to
the coif collar curled
against the inclement
day its beauty bears
mark the jacket crossed
like the holy hands
of the prayful penitent
seeking solely simple
sustenance from god

talk about . . .
the blue dress
rendering its model
a facile second thought
who doesn’t matter
all that much
she could be
any another woman
pretending at peace
practicing a subtle smile
hardly hiding her
humbling hurt after
that man tersely turns
and comment-slays her.


All Wrong

Published September 29, 2017 by kdorholt

*I wrote this poem after I received a pneumonia shot and was in a fog of hurt and reaction to it. I was reminded of the times I’ve had bad reactions to prescriptions. I can remember one time in particular when I was sitting in our upstairs hallway feeling like the skin on my body had come loose and was rearranging itself. I told my husband that I understood why some young people commit suicide because they can’t abide a reaction prescribed by an authority and think that this is their life sentence. As an adult, I knew, I could get through the night, however horrible, and be prescribed something else the next day. Many young people haven’t grasped that yet.

All wrong

A taste
of rusted metal
and white vinegar

A smell
of unsuspected sickness
and overripe cherries

My vision
blurred like looking
through poured motor oil

His voice
distorted like commands
from a badge and bullhorn

A feeling
casting the sense of me
inside and out at once

All wrong
Never again
Too painful for purgatory

In Innocence

Published April 29, 2017 by kdorholt

She romps along the furrows
in midst of meadow’s blooming
unencumbered by
random ruts and roots,
as if her toes have been
taught by lambs
how to prance in play.

Trilling, true giggles,
as easy and real
as raindrops in
a soothing summer shower,
mark her heart’s merriment
matching each felicitous footfall.

The flowers she caresses
bounce in willing harmony
to her body’s beat.
Colorful consorts to her
comfortable vulnerability.
Exclamations of unwavering joy
and guileless understanding.

See the emboldened sun
beat brighter at her
pure presence!
Hear the birds sing
this moment in the making
and its worth to the world!

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