books, Poetry

My two latest poetry books are now out!

Hi everyone, just a quick post to say I’ve had two more poetry collections published. Here’s a little information about each one, and if either (or both) strike your fancy, I’ll be delighted if you pick a copy up:

If We Could Hold Up The Sky (available here)

Love is malleable and comes in many forms. It can be shaped into bridges and carved into doorways. It can become a hand to hold up the sky when everything threatens to crash down around us. 

Inspired by personal experience,  If We Could Hold Up The Sky is a poetry collection revolving around the tale of two neurodivergent individuals who meet as colleagues, fall rapidly into an iron friendship, and gradually become romantic partners.

The collection also explores mental health, childhood, societal expectations, work-related stress, and how a solid foundation of support can make all the difference to overall wellbeing.

Magic! Hissed The Little Demons (available here)

Everyone has their demons.

From time to time, they’ll sneak up on us or run about underfoot. They’ll keep tripping us until we summon the one thing they can’t stand: magic. That igniting surge of self-belief that sends them crawling back into the shadows.

An imaginative and accessible collection of poetry, Magic! Hissed The Little Demons explores depression, self-confidence, friendship, and determination, blending the fantastical with the contemporary, and a hint or two of sass.

Poetry

Last glance

She leads him

To the mirror pool

Where she tells him to dip his hands and drink.

She doesn’t say when to stop,

And so he continues, draining the pool.

In his belly, the shards of the mirror form, and

He sees not the blood from the wound in his middle,

But the faces of his children as they play,

Oblivious, in the fields below.

Poetry

Jokers

Thank you for your hands that keep me safe

Reassuring with a gentle grasp

And strong enough to withstand my anxious clutching

When it all gets too much.

Thank you for your attentive gaze,

For seeing the things I so desperately try to hide from the world

And doing all you can to help me out on days I struggle to raise my head.

I offer the same to you. When you need me, I’ll be there.

We are both jokers who have finally found each other inside the deck

And nothing will separate us from now on.

 

 

Poetry

If, If, If

If a matter is discussed and a plan settled,

does a question need to be posed

and an answer given?

 

If a shadow becomes more than just the absence of light,

growing solid, dependable, sentient,

shouldn’t it be given its own life?

 

If a half finds itself wondering if it’ll ever meet its other,

knowing some depend on it not doing so

and some hoping it will,

how can it live knowing one day

it might have to choose?

 

We puzzle scenarios to make sense of the world,

yet we neglect our own hearts

and are blind to ourselves.

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Q&A and giveaway!

Hi everyone!

As The Origin Stone’s release day draws ever closer, I wanted to invite you all to ask questions that I can answer in a Q&A video on publication day – March 31st.

I’m running it alongside giveaways for the paperback on both Facebook and Twitter, which are open internationally. Check out my pinned posts on each platform for the full rules (they’re simple).

FB: https://www.facebook.com/authorKathrynRossati/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KaptainKat90

I am treating them as two separate competitions, so if you’re on both platforms, technically you can enter twice. If the same person initially wins on both, then I’ll draw another name so that there’s still two winners.

Also, if you don’t want to be in the giveaway but do want to ask a question, feel free to do so here.

Have fun!

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Poetry

The Graveyard Visit

The grass blades are rapiers

doused in mercury.

I choose to walk with dragon-scale shoes

to that soft mound

covering the stone I’ve looked on so often.

 

I remember you next to me, bright eyes.

 

Remember the heat of your breath on my neck,

the charge to your fur that would crack blue

if I wasn’t careful,

scolding my fingers.

 

The thud of paws still vibrates through the ground

with every step away

I take.

Poetry

A Haunting

I see ghosts of footsteps all over my world,

my mind palace

is haunted by them

and the words spoken with every tread.

Stamped into my core

so I can never forget them.

 

The footsteps are all different sizes

and some voices I refuse to listen to.

But there is one I love to recall,

and it is the same one

which leaves new ghosts everyday

with words more energetic and meandering than the last.

 

Every so often, I will etch

a line it has spoken

into my breath cloud,

a reminder to you that what you say

will always stay with me.