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Kate Burnside

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by Kate Burnside

Wednesday, April 08, 2015
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Kate Burnside
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           >> View all 893


The ground continually rises up to meet me;
notwithstanding gravity or the particular
arrangements of molecules and physics,
bee-like, I resist.

It’s not the absence of something
that keeps me weightless –
tending always upwards like
a bird of hope, like prayer –

but a fleeting presence which
(like the soft-edged glow world’s clothed in
during the early hours of waking)
flies drunkenly away along with
last night’s lucid dream.

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Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 5/3/2015
Kate you have captured that feeling we have when we wake suddenly and don't know if we have been living a dream or reality. Keep your gossamer wings strong Kate.
Reviewed by Diana Wiles 5/3/2015
Wonderfully descriptive of something so fleeting...
Reviewed by Christine Tsen 4/26/2015
This is beautiful and full of hope.
I hope you are feeling much better!
Reviewed by Jeff Mason 4/23/2015
Never let those lucid dreams fly away! Out, OUT! Darned "dream-fleeters!" Sounds like something tries to drag you down, but you keep rising above it - that is metaphorical perfection! After all, gravity really is just a "state of mind;" so, as long as your beautiful mind (and, Kate, you do have an incredibly beautiful mind!) believes it can fly, then who is 'gravity' to tell you that you cannot? Just keep chasing those lucid dreams; overtake that "fleeting presence;" and smother it with honey from the bees! I love drinking your imagery! Just call me "drunk-with-Kate's-honey." :) -- Jeff
Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather 4/18/2015
Bee's are very symbolic, as they are not technically designed to fly! A bit of that feeling of drifting away and not knowing where you are when you awake. The need to realign your whereabouts and your thinking. To recover a sliver of a thought from that otherworld and wonder; was I really there?

Sweet dreams, Kate!
Reviewed by Mor Inchrory 4/15/2015
Hi Kate,
Sorry to be the odd one out again
How does the ground continually rise up to meet you?
If the ground has risen up to meet you, it cannot then do it continually without first receding.
Surely, the first line should have read more on these lines.

The ground rises to meet me; bee-like, I resist its undulating form.
A feeling I have experienced many a time, after one too many Black Velvets (Guinness and port).
Reviewed by jude forese 4/13/2015
a deep sense of reacquiring the honey of a dream that cannot be held down ... resistance is fleeting but hope is enduring ..
Reviewed by Jon Willey 4/13/2015
There is a depth of understanding and interpretation here that is uplifting and filled with promise. The promise of fulfillment that comes when we have struggled and at last exerted every ounce of will to overcome and become victorious. Yes, that's it for me, the philosophy I know of Kate and I love it. May peace and love be always with you my friend. Jon Michael
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 4/11/2015
I'm trying to get my mind around this one. I think you're writing about a dream presence that is disturbing but difficult to describe, even in poetry.

Reviewed by Mr. Ed 4/11/2015
always upwards like
a bird of hope

As we all should strive to be.
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 4/9/2015
I would love to be the "fleeting presence" that manifests itself before and expresses to you that you are whom you are and most appreciated and loved. Thank you, Kate. Love and best wishes from me,

Reviewed by Walt Hardester 4/9/2015
Ah yes, gravity. That which binds us and keeps us from soaring like in our dreams.
I haven't had one in a long time, but as a child I had many flying dreams and always awoke with the wonderful feeling of freedom.
I wish for those dreams again. But alas, not to be.

Reviewed by Edward Phillips 4/9/2015
Best description of the moment I have read in a very long time.
Enjoyed every nuance.
Reviewed by CHANTI LACE 4/9/2015
wonderful writing Kate...xo
Reviewed by Ed Matlack 4/8/2015
You and I Kate, have something in common, we both seem to be allergic to gravity...LOL, love ya and all your writes...-e-
Reviewed by Charlie 4/8/2015
There is something wholly holy about a new born day awakening as you so fabulously described. So I'm wondering if what happened is when the Angels tucked yesterday to bed last night, they shook the billowy, cloudy covers so hard that, Chicken Little, a piece may have fallen in you head, to take root there. Was it windy last night? It just takes a molecule or so, you know. If such is the case, I'd nurse it. Lots of inner trees for thoughts blooming all over the place in there at night. If I were one of the twelve dancing princesses, I'd love to be invited to the ball. --Charlie
Reviewed by George Carroll 4/8/2015
You capture the essence that poetry instills in we poor mortals.
Most happy to read you again and I'm still in awe of your marvelous talent. I hope you have found a publisher for your works.

Reviewed by Amber Moonstone 4/8/2015
Good to read you again!
Those fleeting presence sure fly by faster and faster each day now.
I can't seem to remember my dreams these days, what's up with that?
We all need to have a bit of grounding thrown at us every now and again. Sounds like you could use some!
Much peace love and light
Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger 4/8/2015
Unique the presence of soft-edged glow.
Like prayer and hope.

Lady Mary Ann
Reviewed by Odin Roark 4/8/2015
As we grow older, the ever present gravity reminds us how confined our bodies are, unless, of course, one has a mind that can lift one's body into other dimensions with the power of you have. Excellent wordsmithing.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 4/8/2015
Your poem has reached out and grabbed me. Your words capture some true feelings I myself have experienced, and that is a fantastic thing, especially the last stanza.

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