Annual election day posting of the poem “Crumbs”


We squabble over crumbs on the floor

While the big pile of money… oops… food

Sits on the table just out of reach.

We eat self-help slogans

Never acknowledging that this game

Of life is rigged against us.

Slogans offer little sustenance.

We dance as the puppet masters

Pull the strings.

We follow the magicians’

Sleight of hand

And allow ourselves to be astounded

With their misdirection.

We obsess with details

Refusing to ever see the big picture.

And we are amazed that we remain

Forever hungry.

Copyright 2013, Kat Micari

I will post this poem every year until things change in the United States for the better. I feel like this year has allowed more people the time to really reflect on what type of society we should be growing toward. The structures need to be dismantled, and we need to be a population compassionate and active citizens. Will we ever get there? I don’t know.

Gaslighting and a New Poem

I have been noticing some massive attempts at gaslighting lately, both individually and collectively. I’m not sure if this is strictly a U.S. phenomenon for 2020, so please if you are in another country and have noticed the same thing, let me know.

This is the year where everyone has had to question everything they’ve believed in and stood for, and the people who are on shaky ground because they have built lives of lies and denial are doing everything in their power to avoid having to confront themselves. It is truly mind-boggling to watch the mental gymnastics many have been doing, and the gaslighting is just one more tool at avoidance. I can understand that and sympathize to a certain extent, but I also refuse to tolerate being manipulated or abused, again individually or collectively. The times are changing. More and more people care. And that is how it should be.

We have all been wrong in our lives. We have all made choices that have hurt other people, have hurt ourselves. We are all guilty of being swayed by arguments that line up with what we already prefer to believe. But if we discover we have been or done wrong, then we need to sit in that discomfort, try to correct the mistake to the best of our ability, and then continue on our journey trying to do the best we can in this world. I know that initial discomfort is really scary, but there is so much growth potential there as well.

This is a poem I wrote at the beginning of the month, and I have really been reflecting on it these past few weeks.

Choices The final dialectic. Do you care, or not? There are no shades of gray, And if you can’t Even imagine what life is like For those different from you, Across the world, Or right next door, Then you will find it Increasingly difficult To make your way in Society. A feel sorry for you, In a way, But there is so mcuh At stake here That the pity is Honestly fleeting. Copyright 2020, Kat Micari

“Little Book of Love or the Poetry of My Transformation” Released!

cover image of the little book of love or the poetry of my discontent by kat micari - a red and blue heart

The process took way longer than I thought it would, but the poetry collection is finally released on Amazon and Smashwords. If you’d like an autographed copy, let me know and we can work it out!

I honestly had a really difficult time getting excited about this release. I feel like I should be pushing my other poetry collection “The Little Book of Insurrection or the Poetry of My Discontent” again with the current state of our country. I’m so angry at the murder of POC by police officers, and I feel like everything is being done to make the common people feel as powerless as possible in the face of everything going on lately. But love is what will let our situation improve, because love is what gives us courage. And we all need courage in the days to come.

Little Boy Blue – a poem

Posting this again because it is necessary again, though here in the US this time at least it’s a retired officer. I believe in individual rights, but rights come with responsibilities. Other people matter, regardless of race or class or creed. And until everyone understands that at a really basic level, we are going to keep getting sociopaths like this who think nothing of taking a life, who like taking orders because it excuses them from culpability (in their minds), and who enjoy feeling “power” over others to make up for something lacking in themselves.

Little Boy Blue

Oh little boy blue,
Playing with a gun,
Don’t you know someone
Once held you for her own?
Carried you for nine months,
Then rocked you for more?
Can you even understand
How you made her heart soar?

Oh little boy blue,
In your uniform so dark,
When you go about your work,
The stains never leave a mark.
You stand before your family,
Your chin lifted in pride.
The shine on your badge
Can’t hide the darkness inside.

Oh little boy blue,
How can you sleep at night?
Do you truly believe that
‘Might makes right’?
Your anger and aggression
Causes blood to pour.
Do you even know
Who you’re fighting for?

Oh little boy blue,
Your friends call you out to play.
Now you’re hunting in a pack
Each and every day.
Didn’t your mother teach you
Not to always follow the crowd?
Is there ever an end
To the violence you’re allowed?

Oh little boys in blue,
Playing with your guns,
Don’t you realize we’re all
Someone’s daughters and sons?

Copyright 2014 Kat Micari

Sharing an old poem – Normal

Normal, A Poem

Have you ever noticed
There is so much that can be made
‘Normal’ and ‘livable’?
Survival mechanisms played
By master technicians,
Musicians of the human mind,
And we let ourselves be
Instruments of uncommon kind.
Played out, worn down, broken,
Barely able to keep the time,
Forced to play others’ tunes
Instead of our own sweet sublime.
We keep running that wheel
Made by those who manipulate
Bodies so bent and weak,
We easily capitulate.
It is then trauma starts,
And we don’t know how to act.
We let fear burn our hearts.
We respond not knowing all facts.
Then we bury it deep
To go on yet another day,
Feeling something so wrong
But never knowing what to say.
We try to live happy
As commodities, money slaves,
Future collateral
Damage, we work to dig our graves.
We feel something is off
And think it must come from inside
Because the disconnect
Between us is so very wide.
Truth still remains within
Down in the depths of our being
If we let go of fear,
Open our eyes and start seeing.
We are all in this mess
And together can become free.
Let’s take back our power
And make ‘normal’ what it should be.

Copyright 2018, Kat Micari

I wrote this poem a couple years ago, but it feels so relevant to me this week. Take this time of isolation to really learn yourself to the core of your being. We shouldn’t be looking backward but instead be looking to grow ourselves, individually and collectively.