Wednesday, 31 December 2014

goodbye. 2014

i get into bed
under three layer

new year's eve

a kitten darts
into the mitten
goes under

with me
we hide from
wind storms

never get
cold never grow

god blowin' giant
fronds off
the palms

loves me
loves me not

tree cartilage
almost murdered

in twenty

Monday, 29 December 2014

get real. 2015

gonna love
for who I

the way I love myself
get real

i wanna be celebrated
   anywhere i go
 anything i want!

say anything!
     do anything!
  get real

i am gonna settle down. meditate
have a family. support
                     some kids!
                  sweet as candy!

            a bank account!
             in the black!
                get real

my partner
       will satisfy me around
               the clock!

    every way
          get real

i will find
the special place
where my secrets are safe

where no one
hurt me

get real

get a cell phone get
a tablet. get

get a clue
on the cloud. and
get real

Saturday, 27 December 2014

last ache. 2014

eye - eye
- eye

there it is again
some sorta pain

no need to ask
god why

listen to the wind

listen to mister coffee
brewing 4

away from the pain
away! (the pain)

(somethin' about they don't understand)
(somethin' about what i did not or could not do)

about hopeless
about helpless somethin' about
less and less


what a word
what a dream...

what a day i had

fallen asleep by the kitten
to end it

wishing i knew
how to curl
round my


poem © Katya Mills
photo © Katya Mills

Friday, 26 December 2014

blue. isolated

the blue
  of the blue



 the blue bird gave
 its blue

gave it away
to the sky

so can you

give your blue
to the

so can

Thursday, 25 December 2014


Wax pools
on windowsills

roasted chestnut
pine burning
turkey roasting
and dripping

coffee and cream
awoken from dream
to dream

sight of snow
or wreath and
bow. and lights
like stars

sound of bells
ringing. nat king cole
singing through the point
of a needle on vinyl
to you

laughing and jumping
for joy

smiling christians
at the dawn
of day

the kids take the stairs
three or four at a time
to the tree
and gifts

grandparents moved
and moving real

may saint nick
ride his sleigh on

eight or more
magical flying reindeer

to all the homes of all
the bad children

to see the no good ones
to forgive them

may saint nick
ride the magic on
to the east

to the islamic children
the buddhist children
the hindu children
the hebrew children

so all
of all faiths
feel loved

big and little children alike
on christmas day

good and the bad
naughty and nice
ones who eat meat
ones who eat rice

ones who never seen
the sparkle of ice

and may we learn a thing
from our imagination
this Xmas

and learn to love
more easily

Monday, 22 December 2014

the turnaround

i crash and burn
my world falls
i get right up
then turn

a letter from a jailhouse
tries to work behind
the tired eyes

take me down
from Dubai heights

strip my inhibition
stark naked

from sunlight

to depths below
the dolomites

in death's sincere sound
of silence

pervasive and persuasive
fears of senseless

i'm lost already
in tomorrow's retribution

the fantasy labyrinthine
of my furious

Saturday, 20 December 2014

enveloped in media glaze - fin

There i am
lagging realtime...

red is now blue
and blue is now green is
 now gold is now

silver surfing
edged off a

separated from the sugar
the lemons turn

there i am
doing the dishes
with my eyes closed

day-trading milliseconds
making a moment
per trade

sometimes life feels like
convincing a pig being hammed
was a cure

there we are
we need another miracle
one was not enough

mother nature
on a rampage
the killing kind

there we are
renewal in the rain
refilling a prescription
for affliction

sensation of merlot
down the gullet
some sorta warmth

there it is
the opiated vision
tele path
tele vision sets
a course for

i used to tell myself
you are just plain rotten
the best in me
i had downright


another fifth of a second
time traded away

there we are
our gps in

we are the echo
of a sliver
of a moment
in time

promoted unconditionally

it is so sad to watch her unfold
fate. nostalgic

like a carpet
stashed away in the back of your closet
you see all the old stains
and remember
and unravel

this is why i roll it up
and choose

Thursday, 18 December 2014

enveloped in media glaze - v

there we are
the us in nostradamus
under the bridge of celebrity

drinking coffee
eating the media glazed

promising each other miracles
just to stay sane

there we are
lacing and weaving
the words
some of the dopest beats
just to stay sane

you and me
took the same classes
on different streets

hell razors
on a cold day. indeed

internally enveloped
not yet delivered
preoccupied with raising hell

a roll of the thumb
carries the imprint of culture

we made some premonitions
and put them in the freezer
no problem at all
to thaw

with the orange juice
on the counter
mix with water
then drink

effing with the time-space

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

forecast. partly sunny to breakthrough of light

Listen my friend, you will do well today to simply approach your interests, wherever you may find yourself. Your environment need not stop you today, from following your attention where it leads you. All you gotta do, my friend, is breathe in and out, carry yourself as best you know how, love yourself a little or alot, be courageous and immerse yourself in the moment. Allow for silences to fill up the room. Look anyone you want in the eye. If difficulty arises, have confidence you can bring your light into the dark places where others may very well reside, this holiday season. Immerse yourself in your felt senses, and let your intuition be your guide today. Follow your heart towards its passion, even if it is unfamiliar exploration of any given situation. Have gratitude. You are right where you oughta be, okay? Loving you today, if you cannot love yourself. You will find a way. xo - K.

Monday, 15 December 2014

journal entry. date unknown. (performance)

journal entry. date unknown.
Posted on December 4, 2014 by KatYa

And suddenly the long uneven thickening and thinning motion which we followed for days, to some terrifying expanse of the same substance, which slipped through our hands and burrowed easily into earth, endless before us; suddenly jumped up into the air, unseen, and immersed us, standing there. We tried to take cover, yet still could not escape it. I shivered so long. I knew not would we survive. One of us took on a strange chill, became quiet and very hot to touch. Then ceased to be anymore. Another one then began to shake and call. Overtaken by the bitter salty substance fell out the eyes for days on end. They, too, would soon cease to be. The rest of us finally understood. We fell down before the mighty moving creature. We prayed. Then cupped our hands around it, breaking some off from the whole (though appeared unbroken), and looked at one another one last time; then took it to the lips and raised our eyes to the sky, open pale of neck, and let the substance seep into ourselves! A most unusual feeling as it reached down into me! Further! We waited. We then fell one at a time, to earth, and fell asleep awaiting.Then rose I know not when or how! And smiled! And embraced one another! For we were still alive! From this moment forward, we drank and followed the uneven line of this great, mysterious, borderless, lightness of mass. Trusting. Cupping it in our hands and hollowed tree limbs. It led us to verdant wonders never before seen, or known! We listened and the sound, once frightful, was now soothing us to sleep. The air was fresh, and colorful at times! And in the mornings, sometimes, as light awakened life… we immersed ourselves entire, in cool and friendly waters still. Life would never be the same.

enveloped in media glaze -iv

Ghost train slides down
the wet rails
up the coast

i heard its rumble
i saw its dreary cars
burdened by a sagging

patience has run out on itself
life becomes the wait so
everything is now

there i am being
grinding my teeth. waiting 
nerves frayed
at both ends. turbulent
like each and every loss of each and every one of my friends
my gems

love got conditional on us. fast
for sures into maybes
impending silence...


i listen to the rain

in each drop
i am

Sunday, 14 December 2014


© katya mills

i cannot be fragile anymore
'cause i will break!
i will lose it!
you won't know me!

instead i am
a twig
a dancer
a yogi
a paperback

following my rituals
a turtle
an ascetic
a mailman

a homeless woman
recycling her cans before

can i live
any other way?

letting some in
and letting some go

some relationships
ex-lovers and

fall away

and another
  and another
    and another

my heart wants to break
but can
only shed skins
like a white snake

leaving wax paper
shells in the dust
blown by the wind
as it must
  as it must

a-tumblin' on outta
here to god only knows!

god only knows
  god only knows

Saturday, 13 December 2014

enveloped in media glaze -iii

There we were
beyond irreverence
plain old sick with inherited inattention and hate
the litany of bitter recall
transformed by psychosocial maybe
magical means

our loyalty to us
our caring for us
our sheltering us

into a white

we now hold a reception to
culturally-sanctioned pissing
on modern artists
modern art

on ourselves
because it's hot
and steamy
and toxic

everyone's invited and no one comes

sex with us is asexual
fighting us ... (at best) ineffectual
believing in us (good) for the karma
without us (there is) no tension
no dharma

i'm gonna jump in anyway
disappear into it. let it absorb me
that's what i am gonna do!

comfort is manufactured. right here in America.
we won't ever outsource comfort. we like riding
on suspension braking on
air floating in
water softens the
earth for building a

Friday, 12 December 2014

enveloped in media glaze -ii

There i was
shoelaces untied
hair untied
falling down
unmade up

there i was again hoping
to be myself to
find my way out
of my act

waiting in long lines
making friends
either side of me
leaking subconscious
on a drowning day

there i was
a poached egg
trying to get back to scrambled
or even better
broken fresh over fried rice

there i was again
precise GPS unknown
no reservations at anyone's table
these holidays
Just the way I like it

visions of skaters
fat laces, boards and ink
just shining and breaking
out the dirt... a gem of a

there we were hanging out, loitering
falling, receding....

someone was trying to talk me out of something
who, i don't know. the law?
i don't care

ride a rail outta

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

vodka sun tonics

vodka sun tonics
Posted on December 10, 2014 
by KatYa

Living gave meaning and giving made meaning, as youth abandoned themselves lightly to the falls.

I felt blue and cried the color out of itself, unbearable facing the east at sunset.

Military drilling cost a heavy shilling, when shelling lobbed over the land. The purple hearts they would sink, into a deep pink, like olives in set vodka sun tonics.

You watch! you said, watching me, watching youth, themselves, abandoned lightly to the falls.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

enveloped in media glaze

they crowned Miss Fortune, year unknown. The whole pageantry was born to fail. But it would die a planned and perfect death. Lots of young girls crying. Lots of false smiles turning real and upside down. Right up on the stage for all to see. A real corporate-sponsored mess. That's what they say happens when you let them take your heart. Or did you package it up, and give it to them? No I would never accuse you of that, no more than I might casually ask you over coffee, do you like bestiality? No, some things should no more be thrown out for public consumption than road kills, however fresh. No matter if the killer was your new Dodge Charger, freshly detailed. Not even if your buying lunch, or you somehow got it expensed off somebody's corporate card or your own. Not even! Not even by text message. No. Not even laundered through social media. Perhaps, and only unlikely, with God's will, through instagram: offensive images attached.

the watchers, the witnesses, half of them for rent on that very evening (whichever one it was), often found the edge where light and shadow spar. Out on the edge where lines got real sharp, in bitter contrast. They weren't surprised. Half of them were convinced they had orchestrated the movement, from the rows of seats around our giant battle cage half- full of feathers. They would take anything on. But we knew. Somewhere behind our shrimp cocktails, beneath our anchovy wafers, over the steam rising off our bavarian sausages rolled in bacon blankets and impaled on wooden picks, we carried this honest truth. No, it did not sit well. The load was unbalanced all the time, spilling over like our martinis those days. Whatever days those were. No one would remember because everyone was invested in forgetting everything. The privilege the others were born under left the watchers, the witnesses, half of them for rent, there on the ledge.

Sunday, 7 December 2014


the hidebehind 

yellow eyes 
the size 
of autumn leaves

autumn tree by k
waits behind
a single

wiki reference:

Tuesday, 2 December 2014

atomically bombed

atomically bombed
Posted on October 21, 2014 by KatYa

Today i saw a man hold a cat in his arms, loving it like a child. Today i got so very tight in the chest that it hurt.An unfortunate dispute with a toxic young woman, whose touch like unconscious betrayal. Yet close to my years on this earth.

The warmth vibrating for almost hours, before the body, dehydrate. The cold-blooded toxicity poured freely into my vessel. I swear i tried to dam her! But unimpeded rhythms are to live by. And i need to know how you really feel.

And we could have been sisters.
And we could have been brothers.
Maybe, some day, we could have been lovers.

No use. All i could do was hold myself high and separate, in the end. For feeling all my feelings to the end. Even the most celebrated among us, shy away from great pain. I will be the conduit of all the worlds triumphs and tragedies.I will take it on and let it all go. I will be forced on my knees, to find some disparate peace.

We all earned our place on this pounded round earth. With our gods. We run around circles, figure eights. Atomically bombed.

Monday, 1 December 2014

candle light transmissions

Hollow me out
somewhere far from home

vanish from earth and memory
the dreadful sights
those nights

then set the waxy wick
afire in the cold. the dark

blood shot eyes await

there will be no tears
no cries... no wars of words locked up
in dreadful knots

who or
it matters not

they see us
they laugh
they cross
our path

the careless
misled and lost
love to draw
a misfit off
the path

peppered by salty

undefinable so
swims 'cross a murky

tell me god and
goddess where
are we

       am i