*By Katie

The silent bride is upon my doorstep,

She’s come to offer me her breath,

For the only cure I have to offer her,

Is final relief through death.

Just like love can save a soul,

It can easily throw one away.

That must’ve been the case for her.

It must be her judgement day.





I’d like to live simply in free-fall,

I’d like to sing a song I’ve never heard before.

But some bubble-gum bit my shoe bottom,

And kept me from walking through the door.

Now I frown in two different languages,

And give lessons to those who stay,

In the doorway to sit there with me,

Watching judgement day.





The doctor gives birth to a dragon,

And allows him to run wild.

He sends Eve running to find Adam,

When her field of daisies lights on fire.

All that remains of her paradise,

Are ashes and children who play,

Dancing with chains around the ankles,

As they await their judgement day.





There’s nobody left to run to,

And my sins are too big to hide.

Even the vermin have locked their doors,

And left me in the cold outside.

And now I’m just facing the punishment,

For what I didn’t know not to say.

It must’ve been a long time coming,

Today’s my judgement day.

 

A glimpse of Heaven
In the form of true love,
A gentle touch,
Waves of affection,
Glorious empowering surrender,
A tender caress,
A soft kiss,
All in a fleeting moment,
Of precious intimacy.
Oh how I adore,
The feeling of periwinkle bathroom rug,
Submissive beneath my ten toes.

 

Gang of poets smoking around the corner,
They want the right to have no name.
Gang of singers protesting their former idols,
Want to swindle away their fame.
The Senator from Nowheresville,
Was fired for a spelling mistake.
But the President gets to gain a point,
For every life he takes.



Titles evaporating into thin air
Until everybody’s clothes are made of lace.
Our problems gallently riding away,
Carrying with them our face.
Someone to watch over us with love,
Our dependence tightly secured,
You may keep your suspicious-eyed god,
I like to live with mistake ensured.



I’m hiding in the streets behind the museum,
To escape being compared to love.
A diva from the alley approaches me,
Wearing false nails on her boxing gloves.
She asks if the erasable pen is a sin,
If we know more than we deserve to know.
I tell her the answer lies in the hole of her nylons,
And in every field where the grass won’t grow.



Pushpin carpets on the iron floor,
Swing dance on the train tracks,
The inconvenience of the convenience store,
The noose that decided to relax,
The singer who begins when the song has been sung,
The loner waiting for the visitor who’s ten years late.
I don’t need to speak it, for you to know it,
That sorrow is joy’s perfect mate.



I know a lady who runs an outlaw gang,
She was born from a broken music box.
Beads of poison droop on strands off her neck,
She is powerless when she can no longer shock.
She and her bandits preach from the lampposts
Saying there’s a reason the sun shines from above.
Their eyes full of war and peace, and overflowing
With the demons we’ll never be free of.

Not enough money to be infected,
Too much flesh to see golden light.
But I’m one who’s with it, I get it, I’m in it,
So surely all my lies will always be right.
The boundaries always changing,
Castles falling down, meaningless, without fail.
But in all our struggles, we cannot escape,
The beautiful chill of an exhale.



Broad-shouldered little girl,
Going down to kiss the riverboys,
While the genie and all his blinded disciples,
Share breakfast with their little toys.
A giant sigh before the end,
That meets Eden across the sea.
What sailor’s dream will take me there?
What must my image be?

I come home and here you are,
Bathing in the porcelain kitchen sink.
There’s broken glass in your shampoo bottle,
Your head is dripping shades of pink.
There’s no one who will forgive a dreamer like you,
With the exception of yourself.
I have no choice but to wrap your blood in a sundress,
And set it on the eyelid of my abandoned shelf.

Some things should never be picked apart,
And I put my pant legs on one leg at a time.
Such a time consuming craft it is,
When you’re pretending you’re immune from all crime.
But if the wheels would stop turning for a moment,
I could step back and understand.
But when the empty car rolls over the canyon,
Who’s to blame and who’s in command?



Oh yes, oh no, don’t balance us out,
No, not if you’ll only bring us down.
From dirt to plastic to silver and jewels,
Everyone wears their crown.
There are meat and potatoes on my table,
I’m old and resilient to youth.
I sit on a porch swing, with my eyes down my spine,
Tryin’ to be smarter than the truth.

 

katie i like em!

 

I planted the roses

That define the seam

That protects the night

From the sunshine’s gleam

I tip-toed with a cactus

Attached to my feet

Across a tightrope where the graveyard

And the baseball field meet

I have crawled

I have stalled

I have fought

I have bought

My passage with shattered glass,

And shattered bones,

Scrapings from the bottom

And wounds that have been sewn

Then hidden away

I don’t want to give my children names

So they cannot be followed,

Tracked or tamed.

And I refuse to label what I feel

With “wrong”s and “right”s

Or allow any enemy

To grip too tight

I’ve played hopscotch on the ceiling

Of a madman’s tomb

I’ve found God hiding

In a drug store bathroom

I’ve been a coalminer’s daughter

And an Egyptian Queen

I’ve memorized my lines

For every bedroom scene

I’ve fit the image

And I’ve thrown it away

I’ve shown up late

For Judgment Day

I’ve chewed glue from the hinges

Of well-locked doors

I’ve used human millionaires

As floors

I’ve tangoed on deserts of ice

And mountains of snow

I didn’t just watch the eclipse -

I was part of the show

I never got caught

With my drawers down

I used lightning and dust

To make my crown

I shredded my records

Erased my tracks

I was reborn

Atop a smokestack

I trusted the cards

I forgot how to lose

I met the rebate at the bottom

Of a bottle of the blues

I’ve been blind

And undefined

I raced the son

And I won



And I did it all for the first time

Our dirty fingertips met

But I haven’t told you yet

 

In those few awkward hours deep within the night/ where the rumrunners go home/ the strip tease girls leave the bar/ the empty-headed, nothing-to-lose, need-new-shoes accountants leave the gambling house/ the vagabond addicts have fallen unconscious/ the angry poets have accidently given in to the veil of sleep/ the early-morning joggers are still in bed, dreaming of impressing relatives/ the 9 to 5 children in big kid suits have finally been defeated by exhaustion and are left drooling on their small print/ the milkmaids sneak back into their parent’s homes/ the housewives have given up, their husbands too tired to ignore them any longer/ both birds and crickets fall silent in the confusion of whose turn it must be/ waterfalls shift from a rush to a drift/ the fanfare is drunk and slurring/ jeans that have been worn three days in the week rest folded over barstools that have let go of keeping security/ innocence has retired/ the television and the wall are making small talk/ the clerks in the all-night drug store have disappeared into back rooms to watch cheap pornography/ the clocks lose their regular passion in what they do, and revert to acing out scripts/ the moon is packing her bags/ and for an instant all dies to be born again/ …/

-this is when I will come to your window/ for only then can your border crash into mine and leave me in ruins/



I need to be ruined/

I need to be broken and then/

I can take of myself/

But If I’m not shattered/

I cannot start again/

 

It's a little thing I like to call Envealousy.

I also like seeing my name come up in your signature quote, every time you post..... ahahhaha .

What narcissism this is!

 

AHahahha