when pennies were copper

mag wheels for eyes
roll out in silent film
silver screen dyes

down walkways
floorlit and salted
and buttered with
scenes

of someone else’s storied
childhood

long legs falling in love
with strapping lads on streets
paved flat by
pennies

land without
cell phones

a sunday. 1955
a city. 1959

when churches were
sanctuaries

mark the time
by the bells and
the sun

we rest on
bloody knees

the automobile
extinct

home. 1936
the sky. 1910

the pool
1920 and two metres
deep

the denim
1969. when pennies
were copper

the board
she saw better
days

cut elbows
in ink

porcelain cheap
for the poor

inscripted
the names
in powder blue
soap

sliding down rails
to the subway

we saw better
days

laughter echoes

a certain
despair

– KatYa, July’17

free

The air was popping and crackling and exploding all around us, and as the sun set i listened to independence day sing her song, sizzling and whistling and screaming into darkness, and the chaos of my mind went dead finally, in the midst of this busy life, and i became a small yet meaningful voice among millions, no, billions of inflections wishing to be heard. And small yet meaningful was all i ever was and cared to be.

early

early morning americans

struck a balance with all, in the city in the summer after dawn, when the morning bird was heard and the sun at eye level, playin hide and seek behind deciduous trees, while the cat trailed you partways to the cafés, and the barista knew your name without asking, and the statesman laughed and folded his newspaper and nary a phone was ringing, the time was reserved for a church bell and silence. americas were thick with technology, in the cables in the air, and you wouldn’t need to care in the early, early mornings. in the city on the streets, face values appreciated and if you looked past the wheels and the burden of homes that were carried, you were sure to find an honesty and goodness that survived any standing recession, knew more than money and politics combined, and had a penchant for pastimes of early morning. as deep as any faith, the devotion. rise and shine, america!

k. early morning devotée

off running. always dreaming

Life will always be troubling but we have to find our way and how i feel about myself has direct bearing on how it unfolds. what the hell it wasn’t even a magical morning i woke up alone like usual with a not so friendly recollection on my mind and a not so super feeling like i probably blew a gasket. i got up and said hey! it’s another effin day and either i’m gonna make something of it or it’s gonna bury me. i got movin and french pressed around one in the afternoon, so i could kick it up a notch and pop my eyes in shake my hair out change up and get back to work. sure i said a mantra. i had to find myself in the mirror. when ready i hit the pavement and let the freeway style the day, and i got lucky enough to turn on the radio just before the last pony the one with the patch over its blind eye got into the final gate at the Kentucky Derby, and we were off running. Bukowski was somewhere mint julep in hand lucky ticket in his breast pocket, always dreamin.

this moon is not pink and they-them-theirs never will be

Though you call them the ‘pink moon’ and dress them in floral prints of the season, the full moon tonight will show their true color to you tonight and let you be let down (or up), and they will light your faces up so they can see how happy or sad you are to see them so. And they will shine upon the phlox they were misnamed after, whose flamed flowers will rise in unison to the top of their stems to peer upon them, and feel their power of persuasion, and the feeling will feel full and beneficial and the phlox flower water will become bubbly and pour pink champagne into the trumpet of the lily. All will at very least acknowledge the full and vibrant moon for their mighty refusal to be classified, categorized, denigrated, or diagnosed. Darwin may well be confused, yet his curiosity a contagion the whole world could catch. The moon was a kind moon, a gentle moon, a moon of many colors, and kept their feelings somewhat to themselves, so not to disturb the galaxy.

little children made a song they like to sing
every april comes around…

then one day 
the pink moon got away
turned blue 
for me and for you
happily and for 
ever

too

good night means good wishes

I no longer have the pride of my youth, but I stand tall as ever. I no long carry the false promise of an imaginary future in my head, where all problems have been solved and challenges overcome. I face the rising sun and realize despite its powerful light and growing heat, it has no edges and cannot cut me. We can therefore have a dialogue over our three course meal. Hardship will never be just a memory and the sun has no gender.

good morning  (appetizer)

afternoon  (repast)

good evening  (dessert)

 

– K (meditations on a rainy day)