back.ward

yes freedom also means you have the right to believe anything no matter how patently false unequivocally backwards and unceremoniously walk away from common sense and wisdom to devote your entire being to the pursuit of social injustice and economic inequality. you live with yourself. 

trajectory of suns

interior lands locked

upon a promise hollow 

wonder what and who

to follow. unable to see

suns rise and fall against 

the sea

#katyamills

the atomically compromised

thought you controlled the world your

media constructed myth 

up downloading torrents of permanent denial 

retweeting your favorite tweets glued to the young 

the restless dreaming of another piece of ass wading 

thru your broccoli florets stuck on stupid atomically
compromised goodbye  

#katyamills

in America

nobody thinks alike nobody 

feels the same all 

the time. this is diversity

not subversion

we have shared history 

not carbon copy

if you wanna force someone

to think like you

this country is not 

your home

#katyamills

dc still life

on the banks a slow 

and colorful death a

river of legislation

passage of paper

finality of leaves 

opposite sides of

the aisle came to 

knees 

above roots 

beneath trees

#katyamills

end of policy

 the impoverished pride of a wannabe dictator

washed up on a foamy shore

edge of a landfall hurricane. the world wept

and shook a fist for the casualties 

of careless policy    #katyamills

mouth. 25

 how can i get close 

to this mouth full of politics how

can i love this head 

full of venom isn't it sad 

this oscillation of reality 

a threat to human kindness

shouldn't you be against

the law?

#katyamills

flashes of pixel and chrome

The rivulets widened to small streams from slipstreams, then converged into rivers, and the leaders all washed away from one another on a tide of nationalist foam. votes cast for nuclear disarmament gone up in brilliant flashes of pixel and chrome. maybe subconsciously the world wanted to blow itself away. if it was unconscious, did that make it okay? the thought was alarming, so we encased it in plastic and sent it to sea. it looked good in navy. uncompromised. salt water couldn't seem to break it down. permanent as a nike swoosh to the face. on a forehead. on a lace. demonstrably positioned yet so poorly placed.

see . saw

Some deity of prepossession took hold in America, leaving little room for argument and debate. Lady liberty gripped her torch so tight her hand began to crumble and her arm fissured and fell off, her torch falling into Hudson Bay where water met fire with the strangest sound. Water won and the western world was a little darker, hard to see. The thinker felt the ripple in time and stood up against his master's orders. Millions of women marched and the men, well, they also serve who stand and wait. Behind bulletproof glass and whitewashed timber, the purposeful and power-laden drew back the drapes and saw only panhandlers, holding signs and begging for change.

m x memory -vi

What was (not by law) acceptable? You would have to be crystal (clear) to know that awareness had not changed. Not even by 2023. Awareness is like it was: half-whole. The industrio-technological revolution had consciousness in a blender and someone hit liquefy. The laws could not tourniquet the blood loss. In effect, all diverse perceptions broadcast by sentients and picked up on radios in tunnels, were to be accepted. Resistance, denial of telltale truths, revolt against the pioneers of particularly unpopular ideas, was punished by slow reflexology torture. The pedestrian access to all CNS points of sensitivity. Modern culture placed high value on sensitivity, for it was the easiest way under the skin and didn't cost a damn thing. But desensitivity treatments were about the most malevolent practice around. A desensitized sentient was today scorned and unforgiven... turns out all evolution has the fallout of consequential negative feedback, which angles off the light of the fresh vision and becomes the new bastion of ignorant factions which can be discredited yet never completely silenced by radiating waves of heart-centered caring intention...

navel (gone larger) label #2

A great compression hits the air and electricity unloads upon the city and picks up pavement like legs over jumpropes. Spent out on long nights and hazy days between command central (some adulator's basement or agitator's sister's garage) and the Civic Center. Planned protests (amidst unplanned parenthood). Your body and your mind are notched for shorter play, but the spirit moves the joystick. The sound of it makes most young activists want to switch to substitute teaching.

And many probably do
But not you know who

Others join the green party ranks
Or the army, marching behind tanks

I would  move (with you) to Amsterdam or Vancouver
where we could talk on talk radio with the world about
anything but that

what's behind the label
across the sheltering orange rind
of the navel

To be chicken-wired into a city 4 block radius
by choice. Fast food ideology. To give away your voice
by choice  -- Berlin, circa 1942

Caution. it might hurt
Planned parenthood (amidst pop-up protests), hazy days and spent nights for dizzy girls spun dry from wet, will never be women to boys will never be men, lucky if a fifth make it to the clinic where everyone's betting against them, only a tenth make it out half-alive. Fast food ideology.  -- Chicago, 2016

There, there...
All washes away, tears and problems and headaches and trash
Flags come out on Patriots Day and how dare you? I love
(my country) too

There, there...
The pulp is safe and juicy inside
full of nutrients (and whatever's in the water)

A great decompression hits the air and electricity unloads and picks up pavement like legs over jumpropes. Feelings around the block so diverse and tangential, burning like coals in the eyes and faces of those who live deep in the heart of the American city. Every AMERICAN city unified, from Quebec to Tijuana, Houston to Montreal, Toronto to Rio de Janeiro. Feelings catch on and so alive!

We will need no lighter fluid. You and I
 The solar flares (sent by sun) have arrived

Journal # 07.20.16

My new blanket, sea green, provides comfort against the squalls of the world. Wrapped in soft waves of blended cotton, I am hard to convince. Maybe it's the celebrity twitter fiascos and heat waves, the political conventions. Maybe it's the people who let me down. Maybe it's the many gods, the guns, exploitation and fear. Maybe it's my great expectations. Endorsements bought and traded and ringing in the ears, racial tensions expansive in the cities in the nights. How we go about reaching out for our implosives. Some of us are down on our luck. 

 I am up on my luck and not scared to get close to someone in need. Outside of car troubles, empty wallets, degradations, and syncope spells... loneliness awaits the life of living on couches in cars on corners. Nobody should ever feel left completely alone. If all I can offer is my company, kind words and home cooking, this is what I shall give. No one oughta feel no one cares. 

I pray that you will make it and come back to us like Spring.  For now I fall back to my routine, preservation of sanity, and settle down to read of the exploits of pioneers attempting to cross the Sierra Nevadas two hundred years ago to reach our sacred, sweet valley. Thank god for family and community, and cheap, blended cottons. I had just enough fight in me, in Walmart, to open mom's palette beyond earth tones. 

song frag friday

Journal #

Politics goes on like usual in our country and some people take sides and others don't and everyone seems to wanna espouse something even if it's indifference. I cannot eat an apple because I have a temporary crown. I could cut one up but it's not the same. I prefer not to use a knife on anything if I can help it. Someone once used a knife on me. They asked for money and all I had was some change. This was Chicago in maybe 2001. I had a buck knife I used to carry around then, but it wasn't on me that night. Not that I would have used it, I'm sure I wouldn't have dared. Not with a knife to my throat. Another time several years later in San Francisco I was with a guy in a motel, a dealer, and he took his blade and used it to barricade the door. I guess the lock on the knob was broken. Then we had sex but we didn't make love. And no I never saw him again. All I wanna do is eat an apple but one of my teeth is plastic and it's just too risky. Politicians go on and on, calling one another devils an making promises as though they don't already know they won't be able to keep them. They feign that sorta innocence, as though they aren't really politicians just people who want the best for you and me. That's what's so heartbreaking about it. Someone acts like they're innocent but they really aren't.         -- KatYa, 2016

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

killbot 2000. soul reclamation.

'people work better when driven (insane)' -part ix / x
originally published on kissilent.wordpress.com


Some money making murder mystery venture was proposed, to save the world. But money could not help us now. Unless we wanted to sit on a sidewalk in san francisco. For the park-your-ass meters. To keep the park-your-ass enforcers off your ass. You got to have dry wall for brains or some quiet desperation, to wake up one day and decide to act out by some innovation on pickpocketing. But that’s exactly what happened, when it was clear the world was not for saving. Maybe the whales, but not the world. Just as Steve Jobs and crew were in his garage creating the macintosh… just as Packard and Hewlett were in a garage creating the printer…simultaneously as all garage bands ever were in their garages plugging in and cranking their amps to eleven… some asshole was learning how to steal your identity in his parents’ garage (because i am sure he didn’t own a garage, himself, not yet anyway).

So we take the good and the bad, together, naturally. All of those garage experiments evolved into cottage industries and then empires, over the course of thirty years or more. While you and me were coming home from work (or not), and planted in front of the TV. Could we reclaim all those hours lost in front of the former tube now pixelated flatscreen phenom, we may have devoted them to better causes than working our marvelous retinas into a pulp.

People work better when driven. Better than being coaxed into a couch, sucked into that singular, savage and brutal addiction to the once marvel of engineering become luxury item become mass-produced producer of idiocy via artificial contrived morality tales to snakeskin sales pitch to fear-propagating political weaponry, become feng shui killbot 2000, become that which we must now look out for as gravity takes it from the arms (through the window, above us) of the desperate if not suicidal multitudes who, having lost all personal integrity and dignity to the thing, found, in reactionary thoughtfully thoughtless rage, immediate end to the problem and all its projected yet false happenings which made superfluous the very lifeblood flowing through any man or woman or child. To the sole singular purpose of pressing a few simple buttons to todays essential pseudo life-giving (soul stealing) contrivance or advertisement or other lobotomized offal better known to drainage pipes and sewer systems and other some such forgotten, abandoned, set away from human senses so as not to offend, offenders of our tentative and more than ever before gelatinous hold on society…finally did the right (though mad) thing by throwing another sorry-assed lightbox out the nearest window…. which, i propose, never would have happened, had they not been driven insane.

K reads ... Black Denim Daisy Dukes II /II

'black denim daisy dukes' (part II)
subsidized surveillance mix
from kissilent.wordpress.com

Billy jean queen my way down the glass lit floors. three hundred watts of white light. a couple hundred pounds of black and white heat. all the onlookers fell back with their cash in hand. struck by the collision of lady’s night in the theatre grande. Maxell tapesque wind driven back in gale force, to cock block a stalker. with a hurricane eye, to allow in an admirer. or a gentle game of verbal chess, to challenge a so-called friend. those who were there to do what i said, became visible (and quite helpful). see i just needed some help to get my truth across. needed your help to brita filter out all the fluoride and dilute toxins in the mineral water of my mind. to goldpan my fucking stream of consciousness bitch. like my friend Viva reminded me on the phone it’s alright to be a bitch. to push back against the bullshit. the whole world is helping us now. check the newswires, you’ll see. because clearly we have subsidized an nauseating affair in our nation. clearly the nsa has strapped a probe on and given us free colonoscopies, with a search warrant. it is more than kinda upsetting. we paid for it. we asked for it once, but got it forever. we did not check for the expiration date. it did not have one. a National Surveillance Archive the size of the lone star state, processing all communications everywhere. domestically and internationally. coveting my metadata and yours. digital forensics will haunt us in the future. any and all off the cuff remarks we made over text, skype, on outlook or gmail, in our blogs, on our cellulars – is all being processed and audited and red-flagged if necessary. excavated and highlighted, in the low light of some intelligence agency analysts daily debriefing. the question mark has scythed the exclamation point. i will be lucky to make it out with my metaphors. intact. analgesic. in the half-light of the trance. the serenity of the dance. between me and my freedom of speech or silence alike. privacy never made it to the door. because she was already holed up straight squatting in the vip lounge. with the 360 degree view of the dancefloor. with the two way unclouded lead crystal glass floor downloaded and secured to the scenery. profound. delicate. profound plus. glass bubbles, built to shatter. hey, that’s autoglass. it beads. no matter. our big city club scene. over a decade into the new millenium, shines. solar panels recycle the light. shafts appear and strobe out before our very eyes. maybe we need the electric current. maybe i had to plug into the dotcom sitcom to see it. maybe it started the clock on my energy bill. may be pushing time into analytics. maybe space jammed in the eye. maybe gelatinous. to the very fibers of our being. maybe i didn’t care. maybe you do now. maybe we will tommorrow. all i know is what i think snowden knew when he short-circuited his life as his life was. by uncovering what he was made to do, the way he has. this subsidized surveillance shit needs to end. acid drop it into the clubs and put it in white light and acid wash jeans. and surveil it.

some freedom for sale. a limited edition

Static. to think
with the heart in
the stillness

on the axial
tilt of the earth

some freedom
appears there
an inkblot montage

static. revelations
appear

it's a real
          tangible
           responsibility
 our freedom

i found
  the founding
               fathers

static.
automatically
engaged with it

it's a limited edition
decidedly precious stone
rare bling

i'm American
it's all i have left in
         control of
      my mind...
maybe

motion. awash in
permalink
          heartbeat
rhythms

star thistle
cat whistle
metro the metric
electric

foster freeze
the heart sees
Ukraine...
awash in tumultuous seas

static. the
commotion.
electric black sea meets the
ocean

static. the heart sees
Korean seas. black
listed
to the lees

awash away
- sanction squeeze -
a few hundred
obedient
kids

walking on walls
saying goodbyes
laughing at gravity

south of no northern
selfie mentality

orders
and lies

pro-Russian forces
Putin divorces
too far away
is the world

the audio feed
ambrosia the mead
incongruence grows like a weed

'remain in your seats'
it's nothing at all
just put your head
over your feet

orders
and lies
there's no surprise
someone is saving an ass

enough tears
to fill the place

labor day marches
communist flags
any creed
any race
any face
just no fags


red square
nowhere
pink triangle
tilt

pussy riot
flowers won't wilt
all thanks to Georgia
O'Keefe

under oppressive weight
gravity wins
      captain sins
             natural forces
                the world spins

in a Winslowesque
 Homer

Geneva accordian
waiting
   watching
        reporting
            witnessing
                 pressured
                       media
                          outlets

discordant
      anonymous
              militant
                     downrisen
                           up trodden
chess
become checkers
violence
                  home wreckers

capture the flag
deny that you did it
rewrite history
deny that you did it

union
    confusion
         reunion the
              Jungian-Freudian
split

reign of oncoming
terror. trafficking of insidious
homeland insecurities and
lies

Siberia awaits us
all

cold
  dark
    frozen
      tundra
       
in the heart
of a leader
like Manson
like Pol Pot
drink the Kool Aid
laugh a lot
deny everything
drink the vodka
reinvent the Archipelago
call it home

jump off the George Washington
 bridge
with your mate
drowning

step off the foundation
without reservation
bid your families
farewell
    

lost
floundering. black seas
check
     please?

           checkmate

accordions
push all
             the air
        out

the hate
    it's...

too late





- K

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

Ozzy-medium

Sandstorm

ozzy
Mediums
get worn
down

Sandblast
Water sun fast

There's a riot
At the hyatt

crane
your neck
to see

An internal affair

glass house
emitting
truths

cold
Watch it unfold

Dirty laundry
dominoes

fear remoulade

Regime changing
Exodae

Larval stage
mothra

Cossack cosignatory
Voices singing
Glory!

Run the numbers
Run the streets

Run away

Nationalist
Instant lottery
Losers get mauled

unanswered
Slot machine
Victims

Sandstorm
At dawn
Sandblast
water fast

how does life
go on