one one four. lost

walmart. 8am. a man in the parking lot sells tamales out of the trunk of his car under a green and red striped umbrella. neither of us won the mega millions last night. soon I am #lost in the aisles in my thoughts.  

#katyamills

lost to devices

cell phone city. 2019

eyes glossy and
zoned

smile like an upside
down sunset

we could not reach you
were lost to
devices

upside down sunset by katya

wednesday was

wednesday
only an extension
of tuesday
a prolonged monday

a lost weekend
forgot how
to end

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.

silly

i feel silly cuz i haven't got a need 

to be so serious all the while. i can

act like a child a few moments every

day. when i was a child i did not 

have the luxury of being silly much

of the time. my parents were heavy

drinkers, god bless them, and not 

always friendly with a hyperactive

kid. so i was taught how to mute

the playful spirit and shut up.

k nov'2017

headlines. worrylines

Being rather tired I forgot where I was going and lost my way, and tasted the tongue of confusion, pitched along to suspension like seeds in a raspberry jam,  a name stained by headlines,  a lengthy thoughtful smoke. They would never find me here. The worry lines began to disappear. No use frettin on gettin nowhere when there was a fire to be made to boil water over, and keep warm by. I mapped my memory tracing lines of your facade with the heel of my boot, in the shadow of a hanging falcon's talons. They scratched below the eyelids shutting out the light to protect us. We would find a plot of land and marvel at the countryside. When clashing on the ground in the air in the water under the earth, your mouth might betray you. Best to stay silent and wait. Still, you're too much, you know. A little south and uncoordinated, so near, so dear to me. Sweet like sugar.  - Katya

terrorism sux

Paris is incredible. Incroyable. Very possibly the most treasured city in the world, though I hate to use superlatives. Have you been there? You will understand the origin of the café and people will talk back to you, tell you how they really feel, argue with you, almost fight with you before you all get down to the basic human show of kindness, and share some bread crusts and cheese, water and wine, coffee and conversation. And embrace one another, locating a point of arrival  - by point of departure. You gotta roll up sleeves and put forth the knuckles of convictions first, show them where you stand. Only then can you find common ground somewhere between, which often is the character behind the words and philosophies. Willingness to defend your cause and country. Loyalty. Spiritedness. Cohesion. Esprit de corps. This is the French term for the universal experience of morale. Uniting behind a common cause. And in these times of terrorism (under attack today in Nice) we need the glue only France can manufacture. Let our hearts go out to the lives lost and the lives living with the loss. We all can feel the loss and let those who we have lost inspire us to counter by coming together somehow to heal these differences because we all can agree, on ALL sides, terror and Terrorism suck.

lost in books

When I was a little kid and the youngest of my family, I remember there was a lot of safety in intimacy I mean touch, there was a lot of playful gripping and holding and caressing and embracing, playful fighting and running and pushing and pulling, between kids and kids and adults and kids and friends and cousins and kids and family, there was a lot of charging and edging and rolling and rough handling of me, picking me up and tossing me in the air, or letting me get on your back or sit up on top of your shoulders when I was young enough to be light enough to be carried that way to be held that way to be safe that way and those days were so wonderful they could not last long enough. There was even a sad time somewhere when I could not reach out to you - nor you me - and I knew not what to do with myself, only get lost in my books.

you, me and the blinking ghosts

Ya you got lost like I did    And came around eventually     Getting lost was part of life     Part of the deal     Finding your way was so surreal     Now you're not who you were     Are you sure?

I will bet you a dollar you can make it from here to there
But I cannot make it I don't think I can
I'll bet you a buck you can

I was just as likely to devour the blinking ghosts before they turned solid and came after me. I really didn't want to eat them at all, but if you don't eat them I'm told they will wind you like a clock then disappear you. I'm not ready to disappear! Not at all.

You can come out of hiding
Really  Show up if you can
We've all been dying to meet you
Dying

All we were was lost
Not faded. Something out there polished us
Now we are shiny and smooth
Not a statistic
More realistic

Journal # 04.08.15

I was thinking about a friend, today, when thunder gave us a taste of the sky. Frozen water burst upon impact. The fragments bouncing around my feet on the porch. I stood at the threshold. Lightning gave me a sense of the sky. Torrents of rain. God was it sacred! I was thinking about a lost friend of mine. The storm soon passed overhead, and I lay myself down and cried. Softly to sleep with my little black and gold tigers sprawled out on the blanket around me. How come we lose our way with one another? I was not careful was I?

                                                  Look what damage was done. The clouds made magnificent drawn across the sky. The depth. You and me - we sounded so good once! Now we are haunted like a train whistle you hear far away, and you get excited thinking it's coming... but really is passing away.

Oh how we become lost to one another, when we are not careful with each other. I can see us all across the years. I cannot touch you or bring us close. The space between us - vast as the rolling thunder. The aperture getting smaller. The portal closing in. The emotional upheaval still swirling somewhere like a phantom. The hail as hard as rocks, pelting us now. God it hurts. There is nowhere to hide out there. My tears turn blue. Flashes of light spaced further apart in a darkened day. The streets are empty.

                             Would we patch it all together through these flashes of light? Seen and in an instant gone? How does that kinda love survive? Oh look! What damage was done. How we become ghosts, when we are not careful.

Journal # 03.18.15

We got drowned in social media after feeling all alone. Lost then found in social media. Drowned in social media, could not find our way home. We found some new friends but were they really who they were? Drowned in social media, under waters all a blur. They popped some images on a screen, there were some soft some jagged edge. Drowned in social media, we fell right off that ledge. Sometimes it was all creamy, like a milkshake made of bits. Drowned in social media, we could not keep our wits. Someone caused an uproar, demanding this or that. Drowned in social media, who when why and what. Emoticons and pros, inhaled up the nose. Drowned in social media, bundled in our clothes. Shivering through nights with smouldering lightbox eyes. Drowned in social media, try on a new disguise. POETS in communion, headlong through the day. Drowned in social media. Captain Kirk, warp speed away. And yet the memory lingers, of inspiration city. Drowned in social media, what a shame and what a pity. So when you're tired and cold, with a buzzing in your head? Close up shop and shut it down, try something real how about, instead? Find someone you love,  an old beach by way of forest. Hold them by the hand. Feel the real with courage.

candle light transmissions

Hollow me out
tonight
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
downtown

ancestral
blood shot eyes await
resurgence

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

who or
why
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
tongue

undefinable so
swims 'cross a murky
                              sky

tell me god and
goddess where
are we

where
       am i

wild. vast disinterest

wild. vast disinterest
Posted on October 22, 2014 by KatYa


Yes i tire
of a selfish
liar

i wanna set something
afire and do

these words
blaze out
the woods
where you
lost me

left me
to clarify
my grave
indifference

i pick the line between us
and raze your toxic
charming

asserting my
wild
vast
disinterest

yes…
it is alarming

eyes

my eyes were once innocent
now they are hard 
full of what they saw
on these city streets

my eyes were once innocent
then full of confusion

my eyes were confused
angry and young
and scared

my eyes
they were scared
now they are hard
like these city streets

my eyes
they are hard
but they soften
my eyes

my eyes
  they soften
    around truth

i lost a kiss

all my memory
i rewind
2 find
a kiss

i cannot
find

scattered about
the cutting room
floor

transparencies
of what came
before

i lost a kiss and
an embrace

my shadow
all i got
and face

oh my god
please help me
find the kiss

lost
in this data
stream

or else
leave me anchored
in catacomb
bay

sufferin'
the pale exposé

another
day

kissed
away

to the drowned

100 years of solitude
lapping up the shore
have you met your neighbors?
next door

239 missing
from Malaysia
facing east
on sunday

rising toward
the light
at the very
least

302 Korean kids
a billion hearts
turn blue

if only your captain
could have seen you
through


to the drowned....image by K, 2014

420 crowds light upto escape the human race
against the cards we're dealt
one-eyed Jack
a Queen
an ace

five hundred times
or more
I tell myself each day
time is of the essence

live!
write!
play!

l00 years of solitude
lapping up the shore
so sorry for the lives
the lost

i feel it in
my coeur

concrete black and blue

concrete black
concrete blue
i scraped my knee
lost my shoe

while skate
boarding streets
to find you

now i'm scanning
the sidewalk
for glass

concrete blue
concrete black
my sister
she got
my back

young man
on a stoop
smoking rolly
in the loop
saw my blood
drawn down
to the ankle

he looked at me
laughed
and inhaled

concrete black
concrete blue
i am lost
what to do?
out here in our red
white and
blue

blasted
between high rises
by fragrant deli
monoxide winds and
the sins of
a glowering
sun

her colors
so real
the city
her sounds
wraps me
warm in
her tresses and
locks

i'm braided and tied
at the end

concrete black
concrete blue
by god
my angels
and you

may i find
my way
concrete black
through the streets
and back

the pained eyes
behind a shake
and fries
keep me honest
sincere
concrete blue
made true

and you
and by you
my life is full
life is filled
replete with my fate
accompli

lost i was
found
gave my blood
to the ground
looked up
came around to
alive

in this urban
chiaroscuro
delight

exhaling her sounds
inhaling the heat
shorn of my shoes

concrete black
concrete blue
descended
into
the mouth
of the subway
on the balls of
my feet

back to you

Nonfiction #77. subset 444

Tuesday.
All seems
 lost...

steaming cup of coffee.

gloves off.

press muse into paper.

sidewalk @ 19th and F

life
gets better
when
we try

when love feels lost again

A link to a poem i wrote today, about how i really feel
about someone very important to me...


http://kissilent.wordpress.com/2013/10/22/pa%C2%B7pier-ma%C2%B7che/