the meadow

walking in a meadow in spring

better than any experience society could have thought up 

and charged for

#katyamills

love was

love was often pushy
to get you on your feet
love was often bitter
before it could be
sweet

journal # 08.31.16

all i got this morning is a lot
all i got this morning is enough
all the soft edges of society dissolve like stitches

'precious dawn' by k

the last polite evening has come and gone
august given away by september
fade to dawn

'see' by k

conditions on earth

On the one extreme there were those who were dangerous and knew they were dangerous, just like in the wild, and embraced it, and even decided that society and law ought to have its face put in the dirt and extinguished, and so went beyond what was natural (hunting for survival) and went on a violent tear for assertion. On the other extreme were those who championed law to such an extent they would turn on their own family if the law demanded they do so, even if law was corrupt and nonsense. They believed in safety to a point where no one was any longer safe. In the middle somewhere was you and me, trying to keep a grip, hoping to survive, and letting our intuition guide us especially in places and times where reason alone did not suffice, when everyone seemed discouraged, and it could be said by measure of population on planet earth, we have outdone ourselves for sure.

some of the stuff i like about this life nonstop

The experience i have of living is so precious to me, from the moment I wake up and even while i sleep, and even when i feel controlled or having to wait in line somewhere, someone i might talk to can suddenly make me feel special, seen, even free! the moments i spit angrily upon the gray urban concrete overcast city even they may turn over in a flash when am i awash in spirit filled with color by a song from a window of a high rise, an automobile passing by, the blue notes warping orange and green and fuschia as we comes and go and the distance between us closes or grows... a street artist, a jump rope kid, a skater flipping the board under his feet upon a rail and sliding down in the balance... the bass on a hot summer day spills out a trunk in a traffic jam to meet the heat rising in oil and exhaust, or the decided will of nature pushing up out of a frost until the sprout cracks through somewhere, a sidewalk a tunnel, a floorboard, even through the eye socket of a skull or a broken shell, the inhabitant long since gone on... hell, it warms my heart! an otherwise cold unfeeling is replaced. Life is nonstop. How could I question my freedom after a sight like that?

predated murderous material mayhem (a poem)

Who can release such metals?
out upon us all?

some time and space bomb
predated to settle with
unsettling precision

we see them to the door
split you the good lord
hit you

you had a chance you chose to clothe
your body in a militant strapped stance
a chance

got violent it was condoned
saw yourself going to be cloned
not sure where you're going
but it's not alone

out in the desert heat
white as a sheet
under the sun
burning
all but the flag

we cannot forgive you
your violent nature
we used you for
tax dollars well
spent

must you forgive
yourself you let
your blood run cold you
find your way
you will
or you won't
it's up to you

what says the door
kissing off an ammo
whore

out into the fire
ashes in your wake
breathing but not awake

murderous material mayhem
polished out your hate

crazed mother
scared so scared
so far from getting straight

our tears come of your hate
your tears come of our hate
what you gonna say?

nothing
cause you're down
half-dead

caught the
boomerang

by the
head

Journal. 'Planted'

Yes. Something is stirring! What? Do I too bud and blossom like the spring? Can this be? I went to shake a man's hand and left him holding flower petals. I left my home and a vine traced my path all the way to the store. I was hoping to buy a quart of milk, stick of butter, and something I forgot? Heavens! I walked out of there with only a twenty pound sack of planting soil and plant food. My vine got chopped off by the electric doors, and it HURT! My fingernail beds were turning green. When I reached the train tracks, still two blocks from home, I stopped dead in my tracks. OH THE SUN! Suddenly filling me with such passion I cannot describe! I turned my head and heart up to face it, and I swear my spine arched like a bow, against the pull! I became lighter. My eyes went blind in the looking! My pores opened and my skin turned to oil. My feet became locked to the earth to keep me from floating away. I could no longer see or hear. I could no longer move! I did not care. I stood there and the sack of soil rolled off my back and broke open at my roots, I mean feet? The plant food I had already digested walking home, I could not wait. Something was rising up my esophagus now, I know not what? I can feel what feels like leaves and things scratching and bending up through the passage. I try to speak but no words come out! Oh my god! What is happening? My thoughts are upon the feeling, only the feeling of warmth of the sun and a wish for rain. Please rain. Please rain. Please rain. OH THE SUN! Oh my god! I am breathing out but it's like the deepest inhalation. How, how, how? I inhaled the toxic shock of your world. It grumbles in my tummy. I give you a purer stream, OH! Is it me? Is it really me? I see you walking by, my friend, but you cannot see me. I try and wave but only rustle in your breeze. PLEASE! See me? I love you. I will always love you. You kick on by, all careless like, and I just watch but not with eyes... and wait, is there? Is there really? The way I know you now, verily so, my love, the way you know me so, my sweet, is by the shade I cast upon to cool your skin... the fresh delightful taste unseen...you drink my blood in air... my heart in misty kelly green i share... inhale me, love, and stay a while... you need not go so soon! Come rest by me, your giving tree, on this the day so fair, breeze lifting through your lightest hair. How wondrous! Shall I never leave this resting place... my home.

punk. another treatment

moment to moment
you keep drifting
or sink

be a lilypad
think about the frogs to come
and how best to support them

or leave
fall from a tree
scratch the water's surface

sink to the pond floor
nestle with anaerobic 
scum

week to week we
face the bleakness
around us 

(you can)
color it in

give it the middle finger 
if you really care
sometimes

that's punk.
really caring

AUTUMN

Autumn Is...

A stretch of small city road, gone country under a blanket of fallen leaves. A crunchy bicycle ride over said dead leaves. A look all around and see colors. In a cafe, inspired to say, i love you, to yours, as you hold them by woven, heavy cotton and wool, at the arms just above a pale palette of wrist.

Autumn Was...

What was this world where when autumn arrived…

How they harvested, by hand.
How they jammed the jam.
How they hunted the land.

Made wind chimes of bone.
Tapped trees for sugars.
Thanked the almighty.
Venison, quail, turkey and trout.

Facing the winter with faith and tobacco. Exposed to the elements.

Cooking the fats over a crackling fire, on irons they traded for pelts.
Chanting at sunset and dancing til dawn. Large fires contained within circles of rock.

Living a life ruled by 

water wind fire earth! 

sun ice and stars! and great sacred spaces

cast under moonlight 

ruled by the rhythms as of yet undisturbed 

And of wonders unknown.

vas deferens. carried away.

that's a lie
a contraction
predicated by
a lie

a contradiction
fighting
my own
diction

maybe me
poet
wanna
be

should go to get inspired
to the sea
bring jack kerouac
big sur
small wonder
he fell to his death
on the rocks

that's a lie
on the rocks
that's drunk
to the teeth
that's tight
constricted

predictable
something easily
predicted

the one who 'plays'
with words

added to a
peurile
penile
vaginal
flow

masturbatory
that's a lie
'cause after you're done?

find yourself
lonesome
exposed
in the sun

the milky substance
the texture
the scent
this is true

indeed
on paper
true

don't let them say adam
don't let them say eve
don't let them say loins
the butcher turns
blue

write away
right away
while the world outside
waits

that's a lie
Kafka knew
burned all his books


that's a lie plus a
lie plus size
sky

add the earth
let half the wildlife
die

the spermozoa
the egg the
vas deferens

this is true
cause
we all
get
carried
away

don't say white
don't say black
say fifty shades of grey

gray
grey
over
play

bundle it up
under your arm
a mess of sticks
the faggots
for kindle

take them together
walk them out
to the world

watch the pieces drop out
behind you

see yourself in them
the dropouts

horizontal
vertical
thrust
thrust
open
hearted
come
shot

true

© Katya Mills, 2014

K reads 'faith'

Original poetry by Katya Mills, 2014
(from  K IS SILENT)



all i wanted was nothing i needed
when wanting
my need
superceded

i was told life is work
i was taught to work hard

i never knew faith

i thought
to control

even the sun
had to learn
without spin
the earth burn

even the sun
cannot control
all it made
all it touched
verdant spring
so inspired

even the sun
needs some faith
every night
to surrender
every night
we remember

every life
owes a debt
toward the sun

every morning
when the light comes
every life
looks up

to credit
the sun
its creation

far away
from me now

may my blood
sweat and tears
be the same
so my needs
my want
supercedes

without it
the darkness
eternally
leads

sauvage love

the days were warm
the flowers
bold

my heart was
warm
the night was
cold

i fell in
 love
in two years time

you sailed off
on sauvignon
wine

quel dommage!
nature
sauvage

no blow job would
your heart
assuage

i followed you
my course was true
to catch a sailboat
by canoe

the wind picked up
good for you
no more love

the distance
grew by cork
screw

the bloody truth

the blood moon
   got bloodied too soon
            the meridian maiden
                    found true love in june

a total eclipse of the
truth

mcdonalds.... burger king... subway
      walmart.... target....(the truth)....home depot
              I drank my heart up through a plastic straw
                                in a plastic bottle
                            on a vinyl chair
                      on rubber tires
             on a paved road
                 where the trees they no longer grow

the blood moon
       the lunar eclipse
              where is Berlin?
                     her international whips

Hilary Clinton
maybe the next president
elected by Pfizer, Glaxo and Chevron

I will vote for
             our first female president
                             or maybe transgender
                                       don't wanna offend her
the first piece of legislation
which crosses her desk
I hope will be (truth)
coming out of the closet

and then we have truth
   and then we have TRUTH
         and then its THE TRUTH

the blood moon in April
two thousand fourteen
evokes such a common
                    strange
                      indecent dream

now back to my cherry coke
high fructose corn shudder
the current so strong
it just broke the rudder

Rolling Allostasis -xi)

She was as unsuspecting as I had been in my third decade. She spaced on budgeting (heat and ac) in her summer heavy, winter heavy, urban gps. Her chakras registered (like christmas lights) the previously unappreciated, suddenly luxury shit, as artificial temperature adjustment. Her eyes gleamed silver. Hammered steel.

She came out of March half frozen, only to suffer in June (and beyond) perpetual dehydration as humidity crept up to a resting allostasis. Right before everyone and everything got really fuckin wet.

The truth dripped around out there, making puddles. Only to be splashed out of reach, again. Reflecting hammered steel.

She saw herself in reflection. She suffered, and by her suffering became more intimately connected with her reality. This time. Others would have to suffer more, to digest the whole raw deal.

I liked this about her. She countenanced truth. Yeah, she gave the world the middle finger sometimes. The warrior in her clawed eyes out. She knew. Truth need not eyes, to see.