Kitten's Litter

X;7252999]
but despite it all,
if the fire needs
more oxygen,
and the canvas needs
more oil,
then i will be both.[/QUOTE]

Girl..between that bit n the whole "for a while" poem I could swear you've met my man and feel my pain..u do stream of conscious so much better than I do..sometimes I want to give him a poem or two of yours..give him some perspective lol..keep it up sista..your head and your poetry.

"The sun will always call the horizon home" ..*wish I had wrote that!*

 

i live for moments like these
when the boundary
between 2pm and 2am,
day and night,
life and death,
is erased
by
hand picked songs
that perfectly match
shifts and sways
of the pendulum soul,
the way the pull of the moon
directs waves,
so are we,
driven by our own satellites,
to fight or flight,
to undulate.
i live for moments of
letting go,
recognizing both
the triviality
and the significance
of this.
this now
will never be repeated.
i live for being possessed
by voices and chords
that teleport me
into the exosphere.
in this momentary escape,
we, escape artists,
still try to stay connected
to
this now.
as we watch the gold medallion of the sun
set,
as we burn candles, then burn our fingertips,
all the songs create space
but there is a silence within us
and sometimes it bursts
and crackles with
anger
but mostly with pain.
i live for moments when
i realize that we are all truly alone,
and we all got something or someone
to mourn.
and it is in this loneliness,
we are truly together.

 

y u only post in poetry forum?

 

4th grade, march 8th,
women’s day.
all the boys bought flowers
for all the girls,
and nominated
each of us for a title,
as this and that,
presented with labels
as if they were medals.

I was not voted
as the pretty one,
or the clever one,
instead
I got called out
as
mysterious,
the cryptic one.

later on,
I had to ask an older man
to translate,
to explain to me
how boys think
and what it all means.

and he said,
don’t worry,
it is better this way,
in a few years
you’ll understand.

and i understand now
that others begin to
define
you
from the moment
you’re given a name.

and if you buy into it
too much,
then soon
there will be no room
for you to discover
yourself
on your own.

 

this metamorphosis is a mindfuck,
is a mindminefield,
gotta watch my step,
although I like the thrill.

but makes me feel so damn alone
to know.
the way the sight tastes,
and the hearing sees,
leaves me hanging off
a precipice,
and I can’t unsee an image
once I've found the tigers,
or the tigers have found me.

sometimes it’s sickening.

my compass
is showing
I’m veering off course,
of course,
headed for the rocks,
or I’m served
on the rocks.

but I’m writing poems at two in the morning in my
sleep,
I’m addicted to the way the words
feel,
make sense
of the senseless
of the hapless.

 

prophecy is a very sound poem...it's moody and I get this feeling of hanging on for the ride...it's a touch of feminism but not really because you present your case so well. society is the conflict

 

he tries to prove
to himself
his
frail
dominance,
grabs my arms,
twists
and clutches them,
all the while
his eyes shine
with the radiant glee
from the violence,

and the rush
that comes
from towering,
like an obelisk.

with a smug
mug shot,
he whispers
“what did you say to me?”

there must be
something
empowering
about
putting a girl
back in her place,
back into silence.

knees collapse,
I stare back
from the floor,
contort
my face
into a smile.

spit that smile into his face.

but I’m in pain,
and I burn,
eyes light up
and my tongue
stirs the fire:

“break ‘em”
I snarl.

and watch as his tower
crumbles to dust.

 

i thought about congratulating you
and almost did
but didn’t.

don’t want to show up
on your radar,
unannounced.

let me just give you a nod,
in my mind’s eye,
and that’s enough.

but you're just one of clippings
in my shoebox,
and it is full now.

again,
i need to lick my canines,
bite into myself,
ouroboros.

i want to blame
the heat,
i want to blame
the vise that’s got my head,

but all that blame
just boomerangs.

i need to tug, then pull,
then reconcile
two diametric
forces.

one is to propel,
and rise toward the sun,
the other is to reside,
here on this moon.

stay still and fester in the craters,
pick at the scabs,
forget to eat,
forget day of the week,
read drivel,
listen to the hymns
about latest sitcoms.

i'm bored of the stories,
i want to stop
narrating propaganda
and existing
in between
the seismic waves.

the choice is between
dog paddling
against the current,
or floating on my back,
along with all the rest
of flotsam.

i need to fan my anger,
it keeps me moving,
and that’s enough.

 

I like how she just keeps posting poems and ignores everything people say lol

 

I think that
underneath all those sheets
and caked layers of laughter,
we are terrified to say
just how terrified
we really are,
of what we are,
really.

 

I'll say it for you then. You're a poster of true talent.

 

thank god for a pen and a post it in my purse,
and for a pause
during a red light at the intersection.

as I walk into work
I’m seized by
an olfactory déjà vu
and suddenly
I am a passenger
inside
the scarlet Ford Sierra,
sometime in 1995,
traversing the rural,
and the reckless highways
of my motherland.

the hallway of the building
smells like the interior
of my father’s first car,
and I want to linger awhile,
in case there is a rift
in a space time continuum.

or when I’m caught off guard,
at arbitrary times,
catching traces of my sister's perfume
and it’s been years
and the wounds closed up,
but I’m not immune
to a rush of feelings,
fleeting,
yet like flying daggers
headed for a bull's-eye.

gotcha.

now unravel.

I know perfectly well
how to
bring about my downfall,
so I try to hold the seams
and every battle within
is to make sure
the stitches
don’t disintegrate,
and yet
now and again,
they do.​

 

PS: Thanks if you read me and leave a comment. I do appreciate it. I post here out of force of habit, if that's not okay with someone, then it's not okay with them. I'm okay with that. Cheers.

 

Hi Kitten, Cowardice and Intimacy are spot on, awesome poems. Love em. True stuff, very insightful. Hope you're well...

 

I hope you come back, KittenX. I miss your writings.

 

Not sure how I got to this thread but there are a lot of good poems here. Bumping the post so I can find it again to read more.

 

Interesting

 

Full of meaning words