lingo

thursday. chronically blue they chose another hue with a front loaded track touched with bright and friendly lingo

#katyamills

drunk 1

the ocean
mirror of sky
the whole world
blue sinking
in the depths
you 

so much for drinking
and driving

#katyamills

February

memories of you 

swim through

the time has run

it's all gone white and black

of the thousand colors 

in this palette

fifty two are shades 

of blue

#katyamills

blue.

blue periods long

after writing

blue periods before 

writing

blue periods when 

unable to locate

the words

#katyamills

upcycled blue #2

oh pomegranate 

swollen on the bush dangling

illogical participle

seeds afire like jelly like

wax they almost picked us off 

decisively you stood up

and out like embers like 

fireflies like rain in a spotlight 

modify you modify for days 

and days and

days

#katyamills

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.

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

÷÷ blue lady ÷÷

she may have been depressed but she was not sad she hid in the mountainside when the rains came hard like tropical noon. she once was tranquil now a monsoon. the blue lady was downcast from time to time and only we were lucky to catch her swollen tears in our banks. we  irrigate our lands and feed our children for to carry on and on and on and on...

÷÷this post was inspired by the painting  the blue lady by Tameeka Knox, an artist from Sacramento.÷÷

greenblue

goodbye sweet moment

lying in the light of a summer morning

California

readying myself for whatever highs and lows the day may bring. making conscious contact. watching my kittens thirst by their eyes for the birds. drawing back the peaks of audio. tails move side to side with the eyes

these eyes are emerald

these eyes are amber

mine are greenblue...

sending this message to space

crisis of an overcast

the sun wanted to reach

the land
the sea
the beach

the sky asked why
the sun beseeched

a child would smile
a flower now open
the dullest of days
so very outspoken

for a second
it all opened up

the blue
was a much deeper
blue

see.blue

what can i tell you when i feel discouraged and you feel discouraged, too? all i can tell you is look, we all get down and see blue. all i see in you is you are real with that feeling, you are holding, exuding the pain. this is making you more of who you are. someone i can love. you are real to me. i can see your struggle in your eyes and hear it in your words. the depth of your blues mirrors my own, and you touch me where before i was alone.

upcycled blue

Decisively you stood up for me. The sun was nowhere to be seen, bright was the sky had been vacated, so clear you could see the stars embedded in blue. Decisive it was you. The blue was of the freshest upcycled hard knock gel you coulda thought it was original and might even say american, which was upcycled, too, and swell. I was a dangling participle, left hanging like an pomegranate swollen on the bush late in summer. The bush wanted rid of me but I would not fall, and they wanted to pick me off anyway. Decisively you stopped them when they tried to pick me off. I couldn't even see them as you know. We want some seeds, they said, and all they were was mouths watering. You surged with a dry wry unflinching certainty: "and what of the rest of her, discard her, would you?"  They quivered and wavered and blinked their mouths. Innocently suggesting only this little part of me was useful. It was then you hedged them out of the yard with the clippers. My seeds were glowing inside me like jelly, like wax, like embers, like fireflies, like rain at night in the light. The sun came out of the blue and reappeared in the sky. It was so nice and warm, I could modify you for days and days. And days and days and days. Modifying you. Days and days and days and days and days.

chloe the pthalo cyanine blue

This would be her signature, chloe, a touch of pthalo cyanine blue. i saw a photograph of me and you. it made me sad. the tears i cried were turpentine they washed the memory from my mind. skated gainst a one way street, 5am, in the shirt you gave me. i was sad about me and you - oh - the trouble we got into! ridin the back of a dubstep beat, it's too small for me now looking up; balanced on the tracks of a Canada rail, cyanine blue (and she) come by air mail. can we wash it one more time? liquid dreams and turpentine, wash it all away and leave her empty, pthalo blue, deeper than the sky and the chalk on the cue. side pocket holdin the chain you left me, and change. can i stop by an give you a kiss? for the flower you shown its color in the sun. pthalo cyanine blue, the signature touch, cause you loved me and i miss you so much.

the blue corner

i trick myself into believing my special brand of suffering should be cast out for all to nibble on, and then i pull the hook into your lip so you bleed into the ocean like i do. not that misery loves company any more or less than joyfulness. all our feelings love companions. when walking into a coffeehouse sad after some dreadful news, you must be miles away when you greet me with smiles. unlikely i will stop and talk to you, for the convincing would be hard.  i would rather sit at that table in the corner beside the recently widowed. we can emanate blue from there.

wild (a poem)

'wild'-- by KatYa
(image © words)


i tell you what
there will always be fresh lands
for us

see them out past the tears
past the years
recreate. old memory

the coffeehouse was
a fill-up station for
humans

i accelerated on out of there
and stopped only for
the child

looking
at me

i was a quick study
slowdown
i got down. low down

time disappeared
into a wrinkle in
the sky

i thanked the curious
eye

the little
one

i smiled not too wide
a little. one

to know it's
okay

how to?

mom today. dad today.
little brother on the way

i am emotional
too. i am a child
like you

you are
too

like a child
too

wild
too

me and
you

Journal # 02.25.15

Wednesday. Local sunrise and the global warming. Generic black tea. Thoughts of you hold me together.

I will not see you today. I will not touch you. I will only know you by the blue predawn, you cast upon my blood.

blue. isolated

the blue
  of the blue
    bird

was
 taken!

no

 gave
 the blue bird gave
 its blue

gave it away
to the sky

so can you

give your blue
to the
sky

so can
i

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.

blue

will you
give us a sign
some simple
design?

give us blue
prints

will you
bury our digits
in the sand?

wash away anything
everything
bland

tell us
we're okay
in gale force winds



releasing
our sins to thin
air

thicken the roux
make us whole
like wheat flour

will you
help us flower
too?

can you
add a dimension
to memory?

enlightening
all what we
 know

what we
knew?

please

give us a sign
some concrete

design

print us
in dresses inordinate

excessive and
dreamy and
relevant

blue

April fools

April fools are on the scene
6am in limousines

groping backseat blues
and rhythm

texting
tits and ass
amass

April fools are shooting dope
in Midwest Mexi
trafficked trade

April fools are found all blue
a point made
heart stopped
too

April fools out from march
madness streaking
naked
   into streets

crowdsourced clockwork
orange and green

April fools
on the scene