Y

long we lived 

in darkness. wonder 

not y we worship 

the sun

#katyamills

eve

twilight is lighter than it is dark
we look to the light
knowing it will
be gone
soon

Maze 2:14:2

In the last episode 2:14:1 -- "Oh, what would I do? My little sister was hooked on pills and could not be found. My best friend was crushing on me. The Pakis were on my case. Hendrix was slipping in and out my consciousness and wanted to help but was unable to come down to earth. Freddy was being Freddy. Black was hollowing out humans. Humans were being human. And my thirst was relentless. Oh! I really had to get away from it all..."

Book Two

Chapter 14:2

Journal # 03.09.15

The sights and sounds have left me with feeling and vision. I broadcast from a dark place. The dream of you and me has crumbled into memory. And life goes on. Today could be a real day, if I stay out of my way. Out of the past, with no certain future. The way I meet the world with open eyes, if not a smile. If the world is not so harsh and terrible, I will bloom. If not, I will go on broadcasting from this dark place. Somewhere beneath the bubbling grounds of coffee. Scorched by tap water. Come off a boil. Which is not so bad at all. For what I broadcast, to anyone who watches closely, is warmth.

PUBLICATION 2015 UPDATE

Dear readers! I welcome your thoughts ...

Book One of my new project (WIP) Daughter of Darkness, is nearing completion. A literary fiction. I have been ironing the creases out. Here is a synopsis. My protagonist, Ame, is a young woman recently come of age, trying to find her way in an chaotic urban environment. Her father died in Vietnam. Her mother gave her up. She was raised in the mountains by her step parents. She hears voices in her head all her youth. But they are not hallucinations; the voices foretell her future.

One of her true kin, Freddy, finds her and abducts her to Oakland, California. Though at first resistant, Ame comes rather quickly into the fold. She learns about her people and her heritage. Freddy becomes like a father figure to her. She begins to believe. Her experience resonates with what the voices told her all along. She always felt different from the others.

She discovers her own latent preternatural capability, in this dark land. She makes friends with a girl whose experience parallels hers. Bless and Ame become sisters. She also finds a love interest in a young man of punk persuasion. An unusual spirit named Hendrix leads her to the dark art which is her birthright. She is conflicted, however, by the violence inherent in its practice. Bless and Freddy encourage her in becoming who she is naturally meant to be. Yet she cannot completely embrace her identity. What other choice does she have? If she hopes to survive this culture of fear.

- Katya

Author K by K 2015

hidebehind

the hidebehind 

yellow eyes 
the size 
of autumn leaves

autumn tree by k

waits behind
a single
tree

wiki reference:
'hidebehind'

K reads... 'candlelight transmissions'

Original poetry reading
by Katya
for you....

BODY. ELECTRIC

"I went with her there, to the heat, and my eyes also turned a shade orange-red; and the poor devil, his focus all glued into my head and my hair, the little song on his breath, reaching out like he was finger-painting now, suddenly struck by the force of heat radiating out from us, and all of it electric. And our bodies now glowing, I opened myself to her lead, merely an extension now of her fire. He may as well have touched a live wire, when he went to finally caress the back of my neck with his hand, dropping his palm on my shoulder. The force threw him back, I swear! Physically he was up lifted and fell back, and rolled down the hill. Jack and Jill. But Jill would not come tumbling after." -K.

the girl with her life off its hinges

"We found her in that room again, a room with a door off its hinges; a girl with her life off its hinges. She was happy to see us, but her joy was capped off where it met her subsistence. I gave her a long and emotional embrace. Reaching her was like reaching down into a hole, and groping around for a sign of life. And finding one." - K.

D.O.D. NOVELLA

Another teaser from my novella, Daughter of Darkness, to be published some time very soon, before year end, on Amazon.com...

"College Avenue went from spaced out service stations and seven elevens and bars and adult video stores, to tree-lined boutiques with potted flowers and architect-touched storefronts with engravings and latticework and faux shutters, colorfully painted doors and entryways. Really an enjoyable stroll up and on past the Rockridge Bart station north, and now there were fraternity boys and sorority girls in threes, drunk as hell and laughing like hyenas. The man kept walking at his easy pace with his cane tap tapping the cement before him, and he blended in so well I don’t believe anyone even saw him, he was such a staple looking dude with his country jacket and flannel shirt, and polished saddle heeled boots and silver shock of receding hair. I believe he was immediately taken for a wealthy indifferent Berkeley landlord. And he probably was! Since the sixties and the flower children made international headlines, they paved the road for property owners in this town now city, and inadvertently got everyone rich except themselves."  -K

My novella will be classifed as a dark literary fiction, urban setting. Many of my characters are street level operators with subtle sense powers. (I hate to say 'dark fantasy' or 'paranormal' so I won't!) My characters are grounded in present time realities, and it reads like a contemporary fiction. I will be selling it for a buck or a buck fifty. My debut novel is currently available on amazon.com, but also can be found at Barnes & Nobles (ebook) and Createspace. Thanks for stopping by! 

spectre. 1893

The giant octopus
first was observed
starboard

starboard side of our
vessel

an omen
in an ink black
bottomless
sea

in eighteen ninety
three

we lost our course
that night
we lost our senses
too

the sky was starred
and moored
in reflective tar
black residue

the barnacles amassed
upon our hull
off-white shining
fell

down
into the
deep

And soon our maiden
voyage and we

would also
to the
deep

and
hasten
to our
sleep

the author. october

memory of a using life. oakland 2012

the dull ache
behind my eyes
in this deadened
room

ima rag doll
i am

a benign tremour
moves
my hand against
me

a blue light
and white
tells
the papered
walls
how to feel

and somewhere
back there
someone's got
so bad

someone's got a blade
and cuttin
up
their arms

i know him
i left him
he pushed me and his
hands into a
mirror

shattered
what was love
or was it?

just a using me
using you

you left me
in this loveless
board and
care

steely-eyed
people talkin
to themselves
and no one
hears

will that be
me? how long
in the
becoming?

bored and careless
days are running
through the
years

down my arms
of sun-scarred wood some
porous lettin
through

the crime and
all the fears

the people turn
away

in this
dark corner
of gods earth

someone raises hell
and hand
and people
turn away

and screams of dreams
the horrors
passin
through

rag doll city
heart of dark
stake and claim
and clawed away

possessive
minded
revolving door

leave me be
some more

find me gone
inside my mind
benign
tremors hold my head

how can i
turn away?

peel back time
peel back the skin
define your days
of dyin

using ways
come back upon us
karma's all i
know

and then my heart
its in my chest
beats out an
ultimatum

your gonna go
you gotta go
please slash and burn
and leave

i see my heart
i feel my heart
i wear it on my
sleeve


© Katya Mills

Heart Holds A Vacancy

(penned in darker times, 2011)

the Sea
her depths grow out from green
from green to royal blue
Where
all our lies get hot
get salty
Liquidate
into butter
Congeal
into residue
residual
of which


Constitutes the laundry list
of lies
uncommon
picked for
pulled for


Juice
Energy
Extraction


By decree of part-sentients
(part-not)
sworn to secrecy


Whose vows have been
exacted
spoken
logged
attributed
catalogued




the precise configurement
figured
configured
drawn off the slight balance of
good will
accounted

for


then left
here in this courtyard
where touched
touched by the elements

Produce a serum
bottled
capped
guarded
two men to a vial


There a discordance
a shaking of foundations
if the color hits the litmus test
and meets other requirements unknown
(you can tell by the sound)


a hollow tone


The amplification
of which
discards
shucks
throws off
any and all
antagonist untruths


(left brown and dyscolored in the foamy froth)


The purified potion
then drained
hits a shade resembles
goth


The scientists stand
satiate
fatigued
admiring
edge of tide pool...


Truth!
Taken from the scene
from the light
double encrypted
left inaccessible
walled off


Truth!
Like pores
touched by witch hazel
locked behind skin
sealed from the world
and her sin


Truth!
Language is lost
in the crowd
of the avowed



Truth!
Eyes tell of suffering
naked like ankles
bit by geese
scraped on thorns
bleeding until clotted
sometimes

Truth!
found
retrieved then
hidden
until she may be
cloned
replicated



For now
we are left with the same old
same old
caked makeup
meet low-grade rubber


wall ball material
circa '79


smoke trails and
salvage yards

highways
bits of plastic
bits of plaster


just another
man-made disaster


For now
we are left with our scars
on water
steady boiling
until poached


For now


A double-breasted
back-stabbing
On Front Street
by the boardwalk


The perp
vanishes
in a fog of Chat
Room
Twitter

The forensics team drinks coffee
the coffee
sure is bitter


For now
the lies proliferate
canvass our nation


gas consumption fever!
TV vacation!


What once was compromise
now has
no promise


each for his own
all or none
mentality


Long island teas comped
on a corporate spread
for the so-called VIPS
for the pros


Young runaways
expose thighs
to highball bids
much too low...


Is this not enough
exploitation
and suffering?
to pry open
the safe
where collective truths
are stashed?


Until then I will hold
for all the good
people


a vacancy
in my heart
unparalleled...


a love enduring
unequalled
uncommon
and
true


from me
to you

eyelids fallen like my guard (renewed -ii)

 Part II... of  renewed (completed 2/6/2012)

Guess i spoke up finally... and got startled by the sound of myself speaking. Why did I have to not be completely real? Well, I did not live under any dictate of authenticity. No dictate, no reprobate. Only self-sacrifice leading to pitiful sacrilege of self-hate. No one told me not to be real. But there is this pressure here, see? Pressure of loveless woebegotten punk ass you know fuckin who: punk ass competition.

I felt suffocated. Well, on this day in particular. Yes. You could call it an anomaly..the course of a few months of mainly predominant silence erupting from the chambers of my vox. I was not but felt pushed in from all around. Prod my vox box, for sound. I was surprised constantly by these affairs, surprised by irrational expectation. My childhood was magical, or so i remember.

Surrounded but not by caring faces of my old neighborhood, if that ever existed. Long distance memory or else I made it up. Hard to tell anymore. No one could doublecheck the facts with me. I am not some fucking twin, okay. And even if i were... even if i were.

Yeah. Magical that was. Magical this was not. When I let my vox up to the notch at the top of my throat, just basically facing and ready to approach the greater light that was both tangible real and warm. Sure I expected to see them again, the helpful compassionate animated faces. But no, not really. They did not so much appear, and I was not so much paranoid though possibly a little bit so. I wish I could honestly tell ya it was paranoia. Internal.

I found myself, not side by side holding hands with others, no, but walking in single zerofile formation, alone half the time in my filament of a head.  Thoughts racing...or pulled into some magnet. Then all became less material, more of a virtual feed. Got fed so quick, I could hardly catch up! Surround sound positioned to push me in then out, out, out to you.

Whatever i missed, well,  i never saw at all. Okay? Cannot report upon the specters down the hall. I won't guarantee nothing. Anyway, its unnecessary to care. All this happenstance was long on incredulous, short of meaning, in the end.

 Less static in the attic but no way to control the controls. Detangler unavailable for the tangles tangled up in the armchairs in the waiting room waiting. Come back tomorrow and reschedule. No reason to mention why. They want automatic? Tangled up in a knotty wish-u-were-a-weave! and refused to leave.

K.Drama by K

So i did what i was told, to be precise. No room to throw nobody off.
I fuckin' faded my style. Turned easy lush wall to wall (carpeting), into stained mandala glass tiles.
Not only to diss the blockade. But also to no longer agitate the tiles. Each mandala in its own expressive way,  expressed just exactly how being sidelined for a while felt like a fucking eternity! I got some abuse. I took it, yeah. This was the event subsequently referred to as the mandala holla.

Cut to the floor, my whole style was... all my asides and sudden escalator slides...cascades... escalades away in spinning fours....no longer suspended at all, except within the greater whole of cadillac so naturally resonant suspension. I thought I lost them off the the production line? Not one at a time but in multiples of 3,4,5 rolling off, like capital rolling off the edges of some horrific Madoff scamtable turning fraudulent yellow every minute a little more, then criminally bleached out into some white collar wine cellar parabolic! Underneath American through and through, dead yellow like ole yeller.

I knew i lost them there into the new restrained freedom of a greater yet still fully-contained world. Like a pen into a pen. Freedom for thought, he thought, until senses slapped him around and broke thought into a  bunch of wild ideas and presuppositions. Judgments waiting at the terminal. Waiting, posing in all sort of sophisticated statuesque Rodin type manners. Hastily wrapped up nice & given away in new annual leatherbound planners.

Well, the damndest of things. The restless of matters. My head, you see, i thought i lost you, too. There within my dome, between my dual ears, yes ma'am and yes sir, i did. I thought i lost you, too. Fuck how i am sorry.
But somehow you hung in there with your heart up against my beat, i noticed. I always had you for a witness. So you sewed together my image, backed by labels. The edge fell off my albums, but you sharpened those dull moments.
 I thought i fell off yesterday, wow. But thank you, you, 
You held out  -- to me --  tomorrow...

But thats really some kinda happy neverending. Back to my reality... they caught me, took their measurements, stretched me out thin, to my last track. They took what they could, to the end of my limits bled and scraped me dry. Sign a contract thats your life. They had me out on nothing nice. Thin ice.

 Lost my wide stare knowing. They had me. Glossy and matte, ego swollen and showing. Fooled by the promise. The suggestion they gave to trust them. Or was this conjured up? Had I let up on my controls? Momentary carelessness. Or was it yearning to not despair of trust? All the questions, all the answers. More stuff really, to deal with. Wrote it down, then lost my notebook.

When tired, you taught me, take an vodka tonic to your chair.
 Drink. Sit there. Until time become transparent like the liquor.
To relief. To feel religious. Climbing high above what standard what ever sliding standard slip.
Then take one step firm, then another. Into cool, oxygenated air.
 Filling the eyelids fallen like my guard.

Now they kick into my sides to burning! Ohh! They take me up and over drive. I believe they believe in me, I'm so very fucking alive! I let go of all misunderstandings; make trivial of true. Anything i might argue, gets fast intimidation in my head. I trip on me, my burdensome insecurities in outrage. Their currency is my gold standard. Decision. I let them get a lock on me...Derision.

 I suffer headaches. Tension too thick to mention. You know. I know We all know. I know we all know  what is about to happen: their sentiments left touching in thin air... that original, firm, comforting handshake they had? trails into some second hand see ya later lead into some cold, late, lonely night pin cushion never to return.
                   
you, too, would have left it that way.... like i had to ... let it go...like i
     did
you would have had me leave it like that,
up & walk away, wouldn't you?

before you
found and held
and loved the fuckin
hell out of me
mercilessly

to the expense
 of my breath
of my lungs

pressing me
pressing me out all whole again
in the end

goddamn i miss you 
goddamn