Mind the silicon dust; this section is a construction zone.
Articles via Medium
I wrote this response to family psychologist John Rosemond's article about he refuses to high-five children and anyone else he doesn't consider a peer.
This piece was quite possibly the cataclysm for my current study of authoritarianism and authoritarian parenting, but I didn't know it at the time. The pervasiveness connection between authoritarian parenting and authoritarianism as a whole is really a fascinating field of study and I hope to be writing more on the topic soon.
Poetry
This content will likely be migrated onto another page, but for now enjoy a few pieces of my poetry.
"Capricorn"
I turn 30 in January.
I have
four gray hairs
one very long wrinkle
a body that was never young
I have
antidepressants
heart meds
pain
People tell me to savor my youth.
What youth?
But turning 30 is better than turning 20.
I know
my limits
my pain
myself
Turning 30 is better than turning 20.
I am not
so serious
so broken
so tired
Turning 30 is better than turning 20.
I cannot take my own hand,
Scared of everything,
Alone,
And say, "It will be okay,
You'll
find out why it hurts so much
have so much laughter in yoru life
go through hell and come out the other side
come out the other side
And it'll all be okay."
People tell me Capricorn women age backwards.
I do not know yet,
Just as I do not yet know
my purpose
why people like soup
if the nightmares will stop
But I do know
Turning 30 is better than turning 20.
"Maps"
There’s something about your back
The angles of it
In the thin gray light
That invites my hand
To run the topography
Your back is the most elusive
I mapped your geography
A vivid internal rendering
Then when I encounter you
I know just where to kiss
Because I kissed there before
But your back
Your delicious back
It evades my cartography
Your contortionist ways
Never the same planes
I don’t mind
I make my home
In the curve of your spine
Against the crest of your chest
Along the furrow of your brow
Delighting in the views
I sometimes say
I have lived so many terrible places
Scattered to the wind
Contained in a shoebox
I can live anywhere
But I choose
To make my home with you
In the elusive angles of your back
Kate Kirk
©2023 Kathleen Kirk, All right reserved.