galaxies

images from space

made all my big problems 

small. now i can do whatever

my heart calls out

for   

#katyamills

collide

i remember

the day we stopped traffic

you and me in a daze in the street  

bystanders asking did we need

help? metal glass plastic call 911

there's been a collision! lovestruck

it was the best accident

i ever had 

#katyamills

katya to stardusk

dear Stardusk,

these jobs on the old earth

(aft of second sun) they really 

suck your soul thanks 4 

the AI flowers what a surprise

i hope you felt the emoticons

i charged  

orbiting you always 

KatYa 

some kids

like frozen planets they 

lived long in darkness with space

they fell into orbit waiting

for the sun to inhabit 

they potential. centuries

away long since learned the art of solitude

to free up they water

and colors

#katyamills

fluence

under the influence

a stubborn yellow light

in a ramshackle hollow

breakin the tight weave

of farmland a scribbler

may do they best work 

#katyamills

atmos.phere

winter morning. the stillness the quiet

we achieve inside these walls 

maybe a miracle. the earth circles 

the sun! we are all flying 

through space!

#katyamills

more space guesswork

Andromeda did not mind about the light years gone missing. Saturn or some body in space was happy to harbor them but they sure took their time arriving. Watch out you might get fractal off the rings, or maybe that's what was supposed to happen. I always cut up my years into months and smaller increments. I bake them in a pan and they come out all seasonal. That way kids know when they go bad, not to eat them. Andromeda takes them back when we send them, and turns them into meteor showers, the galaxy to exfoliate. Deep space is the safest place around, minimal pollution, air and sound. I wanna go there when my world fails me. I cannot stand the anxiety. Earth looks good from the outside, but just try burning through the atmosphere; you will soon discover it wasn't worth it. Sorry to let you down and all.

to the lighthouse cat by kat

may be nihilism

i am finding variations on life, between or within days. may be love i experience or pain. may be a cold environment follows the friendly calm of tonight. nestled in my domain listening to chimes and fans beneath the weight of interstellar nihilism. the cat cries out for no reason and breaks my sleep. now I know between these temples. Coca-Cola. the red can got the better of me. my systems shot like nerves were years ago. I cannot hide. never again.

May 25

The daily life enhancement initiative was set into motion and sprung forward like a tiger, claws retracted for non-violent approach and soft padded manipulation of the microcosm, as opposed to the previous quarter century of claws out technique for random slashing of enemy throats. Said outdated technique had really done a number on the psychosocial sphere, as folks don't like to make friends with sharp claws and cannot see the kind eyes behind them looking softer and aiming to collaborate in a bold italicized continuum.

deep space. 10

in our world of small attention spans
i promise you life improves by exploration
hold on and follow the field of focus
past a point of routine

find the curiosity
rewarded by
deep space
ten

Journal # 11.02.16

She wore a suit to the convention, she always wore suits nowadays even if she was walking the mojave desert barefoot. Something inside her had switched, proprioceptively, and all those free spirits baring skin through broken fabrics she once identified with, no longer appealed to her sense of herself. She even began to part her hair definitely and not in one place all the time, but it was a true part - i mean linear - so anyone could follow the line to its natural conclusion, wherever it happened to run that day. The change was neither accidental nor superficial. A vertical adjustment in the makeup of her personality took the horizontal carelessly. Like if you had a birthday party on the ninth moon of Jupiter, and you only served monochrome helium balloons with astronaut ice cream.

vitamin k

thank you and i mean you

© KatYa

i am nothing and though this belief
if announced to mom or dad or brother
or aunt or nephew or niece would
get a hurtful or dismissive response
i would imagine for i do not dare
tell them but

i am nothing and when i am nothing
and can feel all my atoms spacing
feel all the roominess in there and
wanna rent it out well

i am nothing what would i do with
money it just collects slowly in my
checking account which i do not
know exists until i swipe a card so
i can get something to eat or to read
or to feed my sprawling head

i am nothing again tonight and only
you only you only you may get it
when it leaves my lips and smile
and touch my clasped hands on the
table between us in the bar in the
library in between all the words we
dare to share

and smile and say
so what do you have for us today
Katya?

little satellite

There is a sadness in not wanting to know someone close to you, for they are close to you for a reason. There is a sadness in walking past the flowers reaching over and through the holes in the fence to greet you. When i have not eaten for some while i wanna stay there, to know this also, you see, otherwise i lose something. I lose a part of the world. the hunger and thirst of the world. You see how everything in our presence can move us? Even pain moves me and maybe away from myself. Undulations in the spirit. Unraveling of the controls. Spinning out of contact into space and disconnected. Stay there. Without notification. Without any sound except the sound of your own breathing. See how you can never be alone, little satellite? Breath is a tide and their are treasures in its wake, in the pools.

beleaguered in the cold

Cell phone go to sleep I do not wish to hear you chirp, you are not the bird in the walnut tree singing the lovely song, no, you are not soft of down and sweet, no, you can be taken apart and reconstituted - you lack the mysterious quality. You are priced, bought and sold! Is this not true? You cannot live, you cannot die, you cannot fly. Cell phone be quiet, please, I have exhausted all your peculiar tonalities and wish only to be left alone. A parcel of time I have allotted to address any and all of those concerns of which you lobby. My associates, collaborateurs, family and friends, all shall have their due, I need not hear it from you. Silence! my dear, for out of silence shall come a storm of swirling letters into words amount to the tale which lies concealed, beleaguered in the cold, and must be lifted up from certain death to be told!      -- KatYa --

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.

this was home

for a while all i wanted was space. and silence. city sound became punishing, like the thoughts i had toward myself. against myself. i hoped for a quiet place, where i might sit with my self and work out these difficult fears and feelings running me down relentlessly.

i hated myself into many panics. i let myself be used. sometimes the hope was two negatives would lead a positive charge. this method was in the end, mostly madness. i was no good at chemistry. but i thought i could run a current across my life.

prayer was ineffectual, in a time of spiritual deficit. i might try to pray. i was sincere. it came off bad. i could not often sit still unless i was terrified or sleeping. and i wasn't often either of those.

i could not quiet the city sounds. the cars, trucks, helicopters, voices yelling laughing screaming crying. trains. fireworks. motorcycles. gunshots. car accidents.

broken glass.

radios, televisions. doors. moving trucks. dogs, cats, animals. freight loading, unloading. babies. car tires. speakers. chains. subwoofers. arguments. fights. broken glass. screen doors. ambulances. basketballs. sirens. kids. deadbolts.

landlords, tenants, junkies going through withdrawals, laughter, mania. strange unearthly sounds. manias. depressive wailings. loud silences in certain bad places. soundless muted murder. dead silence. followed by violent storms of cacophonous cackling and butchering of the english or other language.

blank loud stares.

i found myself holding my breath.peeking through keyholes. wondering if i was next.

the law would come in, or a rent-a-cop. you could tell by the sound of the walk who was walking

by

the weight of the belt, the holster, gun, taser, keys. maybe it was just a maid or maintenance man.

i was often pacing or waiting for my number to come up. still distant. still hoping for a little space. quiet space. my internal would not have known what to do with it, though.

maybe push me more violently into thanatos gulch. or mad river quarry. the depths of which could not be fathomed by the human eye.

yes i certainly knew how bad a toll i had taken, how violently my bell had been rung, when, long after i let the burgeoning toxicity overtake me in that urban nightmare reality

pale and sick and past caring, angry and helpless to my reactive emotional.sad and skinny and losing my faith...

god gave me a chance to come up for air, in a little rented motel room some do gooder rented me, away from the urban amorphous ink night. and what did i do? after jumping for joy? i got so depressed like never before. i lay down and slept for two days and three nights...

then got up to such a madness, without thinking, movement away from that taciturn moment, quiet little retreat from my quiet retreat, orchestral movements in the light, pumping my legs by my feet on the pedals

screaming silently back to oakland from richmond, knowing the strange beauty in another terrible mistake, feeling the electric storm of old oakland overtake me, all the cacophonous sounds pooled into one current

coming across my body

high voltage seizing me all over again. the smell of homeless teenage angst wrapping around me like blanket with its piss warmth mental poverty

addictive, additive recycled air, oozing with traffic remoulade, parsed with law enforcement, sprinkled with social services, crusted with age-old desperations

i smiled and forgot myself again. lost my self in the insanity, cause this was home