Friday 31 August 2018

shadow of a bell

i awoke
 tense with fear 
tibetan bell by k

 a subway car
 the killer
   blue sandals

projects on

 i try to hide from
anyone's eyes

  what had they thought
 i had done?

the crime

i am not
the one!


i moved to california from chicago hoping to renew my life. i was always looking 4 the energy to carry on. depressed and reluctant 2 try antidepressants after all the pills in china failed to help. some good people helped me get through the day by days. i got a job and sold my house in illinois. i bought a truck and read some books. i could not write anymore. not without cocaine and bourbon with milk. believe me, i tried. i carried a deep sense of self-betrayal (though no longer self-medicating and destroying myself). a better life was waiting to receive me. my demons were not done with me. i read more books. i walked around and thought. i enrolled in graduate school to study transpersonal psychology. i read William James and Carl Jung and Bill Wilson. i wanted to make a difference in my community. i had to teach myself to be responsible all over again. i had to be alone. to write without putting anything in me. just a cup of coffee or tea...ten years later i found the courage to really live.


whisky sour in my hand
somewhere near division

the heart got exploited
by the vision 

somehow i 
got by

turnin inward
on myself

awaiting the great
fade out 

double zero


we could taste 
the millennium on 
our collective 

back in '99 
i was 26 

preferred the written word
to my fists

ebook! book!

my book is on sale today

Maze  — ebook copy  (link takes you to
In a modern day American city, there are those who track and hunt down humans for their fear. They are indiscernible from you and me. This is the story of Ame, an unusual girl with a tendency to fall for all the wrong ones. Her abduction was foretold by the voices in her head. She has the same light in her eyes that marks them. She wants only to capture your fear… and maybe your heart.
In this sequel to Katya Mills’ urban fantasy, Daughter of Darkness, Ame has fallen in love with a young man who shares the dark gift. He skateboards into her life and they roam the streets together. Conflicted by her own violent nature, she has become nevertheless intoxicated by the ways. She thirsts after ‘the tangy energetic’. A death dealer of a different kind prowls around the boarding house where Ame and her boyfriend live. Meanwhile her best friend, Bless, vies for her attention.
Hendrix, a bloodhound for tracking fear, inadvertently leads Ame to Kell, a kindred spirit in the grips of a terrible addiction. She takes her little sister with green eyes under her wing. Just as Ame seems to have found her rhythm in the chaos surrounds her, someone very close to her disappears. In her search for her loved one she uncovers a secret, revealed on the tapes of a security camera, which threatens to uproot her, once again.

thanks for supporting indy authors like me!
Katya W. Mills

last dream in august

this morning i am early to rise
a dream i had stays with me
but i do not remember until
i get a phone call from my best friend
who also is early to rise

i begin to share with him my dream
for he was in it and in it
i had to call 911 because i was worried
about him

the officer on the phone
listened and asked me questions
then calmed me and reassured me
it was good that i called and

i had no need to worry any longer
about my friend and
gave me a bible verse which was
Corinthians 3:16

i only call up these numbers
when i recount the dream to my friend
who called me and who happened to be
the subject of the very dream!

he asks me do i know the verse?
i do not and i do not
 often read my bible anymore so
right then and there i 

call up the verse online and 
cannot even get through it 
without fighting back tears...

Do you not know that you 
are the temple of God 
and that the Spirit 
of God dwells in you?

Wednesday 29 August 2018

bipolar remix. foaming

life and all its head aching
enormitydull like old world
war weaponry
under glass
twist the cork to
the pop
bubbles burst over West Hollywood
neurotransmitters desperate
to breathe
out the dizzy head
the flutes
fighting for air
now i can do anything i
can write a book i
can read a book i
can call ten hundred acquaintances
make them friends
make them family i
can be anyone i
ecstatic applause
then staticunderwater
ina drought
life and all its head aching
enormitydull like old world
war weapons
under glass
twist the cork
bubbles burst over Hollywood
neurotransmitters desperate
to breathe
out the dizzy heads
gasping i
fighting for air i
in the gutter
below the booths
ecstatic applause
then static
underwater i
ina drought i am
perspiring i
shouting and calling
the flutes spill over
and over with
laughing and screaming
screaming and i
and i
the flutes spill over
and over with

by kwm

irascible remix

yet trapped beneath
the truth
trying to see through
stepped on
into a gel
rolls out the socket
on to the pavement

shaking like a molly
warped by

i woulda died for clarity
squished my sides for the truth
beneath a rubber

by kwm

remix. blue too

she was not sad. she hid in the mountainside when the rains came hard like tropical noon. once tranquil she was now and then a monsoon. downcast from time to time. rivers caught the swollen tears of fortune. she irrigates our lands. so to feed our children. for to carry on and on and on

by kwm

remix. pearls

life got painful
you couldn't take it anymore
so you found a corner to cut
you got caught
you were young and that's what we do
we make mistakes
we are reckless
learning to live
today the pearls are strung
thrice around your
turkish coffee drips into ceramic
sheltered inside your hands
translucent like newborn sea shells
all that ever happened
in your eyes

by kwm

remix. what was given us

colorless moments of stressed inhibition
must i be always backed into a corner before i come

a sea of bad news and brake lights

even tears and smiles
were a stretch

from that place of half flag summer fatigue
arose a current from the far

we would not know until we opened two walls
the windows

life came into the trees
i awoke feeling different
all the colors returned
time was no longer just a waiting for work
there was meaning
it was personal
it was yours
it was mine

© kwm

remix. painted fences

i was moody
i was ready i was
running through a field
i was young i was
i was heading for a fall
you were walking
you were friendly eating raspberries
off the bush
you were older
and reticent and you
wanted to protect me
we were unlikely bound for friendship
in a deep and southern
town we drank orange juice
walked the shoreline
painted fences stood us

by kwm

Monday 27 August 2018


1998. love life lacking. movement from ocean side of florida to inner city chicago. dreams of cultural context to inspire, a wealth of journal entries in a leather bound book given you by your brother. you ride two wheels on a bike manufactured by japan. you are running away from something, you don't know what. you haven't learned anything outside of books. you hunger for the streets. thirst for excitement. you had it really good. soft and sea bound. you are about to get your ass kicked @ 25. willingly.

Saturday 25 August 2018

wrong way

You do not randomly end up a hundred miles an hour wrong way fireballing on the freeway, taking lives along with you to the other side. maybe you got deadnamed or bullied or beaten one too many times. maybe you lived in addictionland. whatever it was, these seemingly random acts are not so. you turned wrong way long ago.

Friday 24 August 2018

beset by beauty

the blue periods I have had in life were not always the small tragedies, colored by loss; small triumphs were equally blue. I miss the bursts of confidence and hope, the clearings. the quality of light there. where the dream and reality converge. the most unlikely places, beset by beauty. you change in some small way. only your brothers and sisters in the struggle understand how you got there. the shared memory is all can be recollected. gather it in your arms. hold it to your heart. tell the story if you can.

Thursday 23 August 2018

life in white and black

kids scoop pudding to their lips and make forms of the clouds, cartoon characters. careless the jets cross the sky. the parents have no custody arrangement other than when I feel like taking care of them, I will, until you grab them back, okay, and it works for a while. we think it works... the kids sure eat a ton of pudding.


a waitress wears the fabric of a broken heart, four seasons turning colors. just shy of chicago. all the laughter makes her wanna cry. he's drunk somewhere and high, lost her, wanna die. gotta hit the pavement, pay your rent. this is love at 23.

Wednesday 22 August 2018

ghost of a heart throb

fell upon the canyon
delirious at dusk
like some warm

then swallowed by
the pool
a heart throb
lost a pulse

we thought nothing of the truth
the future made it

Monday 20 August 2018


5 years or more i
have subsisted on
modernity alone
eternity on
a mobile phone

5 years or more
without my signature
to sign. i am automated
by design

5 years or more and
substance free
the kettle boils
for coffee
and tea

5 years or more trying
to remember how
to read

mostly writing
into a

Sunday 19 August 2018

I read

I set up some light ina room and the kittens were sleeping to public radio Sunday evening jazz while i read through my manuscript. I'm coming up on some free time and I wanna work it out. I read without my glasses and carelessly on purpose, hoping not to get caught up in any detail, just read. I am open to total reconfiguration or whatever it takes to reclaim this 3 year project, own it and finish. Story has a life of its own. I discovered one chance tonight. I could take the split narratives and reunify them.  Then the first half of the book would be all Kell and the second half, Ame. Why not? I can try and resave a new draft and read the copy through that way. Then I will know if that's a better issue. Because what stands before me now, the existing form, is lacking. I have to be open hearted and willing to recreate this gem so it truly shines alongside my other novels. There's no other way!

Saturday 18 August 2018

rebellion (internal)

there are energies like crickets set up to hum inside us when we are young, they speak to us of rebellion and work us into our circumstances. some are fueled by attitudes and opinions that over time got shaped into beliefs. others don't give a damn whether it's day or night, whether we are tired or hungry, broke or nicely compensated. they whip up a storm in us which is honestly so compelling, we cannot resist despite our better judgment. we live. we cannot help but live!

night sequence

big city by choice, you and me, we came in together on the back of big city adrenaline rush. we had a fight, you got upset and turned your back on me. i got lost like i did in those days, running away from all i knew, on purpose. a magnet for manipulation. surreptitiously hunted by strangers. most of what i had with me would be stolen, especially my pride. threatened and blamed and treated with derision. magically thinking, i wished for you to appear on any corner. some girl had a mind to show me compassion, but even she turned and twisted the knife, being skeptical and not buying my incredible story. lost and no obvious avenue home. no money, no phone, no friends. those I turned to for help could not help me for they were all too embedded in their ways. became convinced i was less so. how quickly one can go from respectable citizen to  vagrant. if anyone decides to hunt you and rough you up, for kicks, you're a goner. that night, like many before and after, i got myself into such a world, so deeply, i almost did not make it out. why i was such a lost soul for so long, i may never fully understand. now i get to wake up and thank god im no longer insane, for these are only night sequences, bubbling up from the depths of traumatic memory, and the unconscious.

Friday 17 August 2018

draw near the dark melody

out toward the center of the lake, august summer nights, the water dead calm. the atmosphere uninterrupted, both surface and air. they could not see one another and could no longer hear all the commotion on every shore. a loon gets lonely, too.

and there despair was born. made it's way up the long and slender throats. the necks pointed to the sky, and curves of beak parted, opening throats to air. the saddest melody filled the lonely night with sound. echoes in every cove.

we were young and holding hands. snuck out with flashlights to walk the banks to the painted bridge. hidden in the deepest shadows of the canopy, on a new moon night. drawn together out on the island, waiting. long winter a distant memory.

listen... the aching pain of solitude is calling! before i only heard your sweet voice. so small we are... touching your soft warm palm with mine... feeling your breath on my face... i may never feel so close to you again.

Thursday 16 August 2018


Blues to soul
I could feel the love
The warmth beneath your voice
You could shout a song
I never saw or heard anything
Like you
Mocha skin tone
Cream and sugar
Black coffee
You made us all rich
You woke us up
I could feel the love
I could laugh
I could cry
On a dime
With the whole

Tuesday 14 August 2018


borderline felt fenced in again and jumped from side to side. she took the bridge to nowhere and climaxed beyond 100 in her ride. finally she could breathe. the tears got blown off the side into gray sky and fell to darker waters. the contrast was kindness to her eyes. guns was on the radio. a kiss from axl rose to make it better. she found a wild flower on the river bank and wove it into locks. kicked some rocks and walked back to her car. the radiator fan still blowing out the heat. when the rains began to hit the pavement, well, she liked to believe she started all that storm.


trouble pushed a curse off the edge of a busted lip. didn't care. got home after lights out. escaped into comic books when bliss blew up again. was secretly oversensitive and cried himself to sleep. only little sister knew. courage was taking the brown glass, pushing skateboard through alleys to the vacant lot. smashing bottles on the old brick wall. broken feels so good. all was left of home. all the necessary rules lying there in liquid and why not? culture never did nothing. some day with little sister's help he would write a letter. hitchhike outta here. find a paper route and a giant wave to surf. santa cruz will do. 

Monday 13 August 2018

8 less 8 was none

the composition shifts a degree and the whole world dissolves. the fires far east lick the earth, suffocate the seaweed paper tongue, two air-conditioned hearts, tokyo rising sun. four chamber orchestra reflection in the sea. sails stretch out for perth. eight, less eight, makes none.

blue too

she was not sad. she hid in the mountainside when the rains came hard like tropical noon. once tranquil she was now and then a monsoon. downcast from time to time. rivers caught the swollen tears of fortune. she irrigates our lands. so to feed our children. for to carry on and on and on

14 twelve

in 12 we found fourteen
a chance to come clean
there can be no

the thoughts
the feelings
cannot be trusted

go and do what must be done
today is the only

disparity of a spirit

the ash has fallen and losses are revealed. a lucky one. i am surrounded by all i have. though i may fight my growing belly and hard won responsibility, i see i lack nothing. today the sun rises in a great dispersion of rays. no more the orange coal. the fires are contained. my spirit can laugh once again.

Wednesday 8 August 2018


haze and cars all
in the shop for days
the temperature refuse
to drop. mercury
approaches the bus
stop. flashes red
and betas swim
in flames across the
english channel


Monday 6 August 2018

lost weekend

i lost myself last weekend
in the gaze of hazy summer
burn, on tray liners, in fast food

i lost myself riverside searching
for water lily gardens. little girl
chasing ducks. swings her bell
off a low tree branch in the shade

i found myself fearful
sweating the small stuff with you
again. fuck. how many moments
away from the deep

simplicity blue. one pack holds
all we need to survive. one road
an entire adventure

one laugh into the chasm one
prayer. i am here. you are there
nothing stands between us

u lose u

gatherin stale opinions
off the internet is
flashin screens
in your face
you gotta get up
brush it off and
go talk to someone
then uncover who you
really are
you clearly know
who you are

half a million acres

i was glowing like
the morning sun 

only my new hairstyle
could offset a sense of

half a million acres 
have burned
they say

no longer grace 
the earth. they live 
in the

where may i go


the sun rose red
in an ashen sky
my failing was fast food
and an instant

Friday 3 August 2018


i am constituted of methods mistaken for madness by those who believe so strongly in ideas they have fixed to a chain in the backyard. we are not made up of thoughts of us. they can cuss you out to kingdom come. cursing's what they made of. go and live your life. I am constituted of good will and fire in the belly for a creative compelling outcome manufacturing something rare of high quality, worthwhile.

Thursday 2 August 2018


two in eight and eight of two
got tossed up and turned
a few. 1982

gimme some
rolling off the tongue

you got me an
i got you
dollars turn to

music fills the hall
a powder white

soon the smiling dancing
do not care falls off
the face

what a way
to go

one in eight and eight of one
lives in shadows
of the sun

where all is of a hue
translucent eggplant blue

and songbirds whistle

encased in film
and glue