interior lands locked
upon a promise hollow
wondering what and who
to follow. unable to see
suns rise and fall against
the sea
#katyamills
Tag Archives: sea
harvey. god of the sea
we took some shots you
caught me in transition on
a silver disc. years later we
met for dinner. i was lost
a cat back up hurt and poor
you gave a royal fanfare i
found out you’re gone by
internet. i will never forget you
my god of the sea and
to the sea you return
#katyamills
reading #169
eternity
a starless sky
moving sea
a diving hawk
you and me
moving
the sea
the starless
sky
turn around
eternity
flashes
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.
salt whispering
salt whispering of the great sea change
She knew the siphoning to be as surreptitious as it was dangerous down the river a ways, where community and real estate parted, where souls were handed off shamelessly to areas unincorporated and lesser know than a cold case file in a sub-basement archive a steep fall off the side of a paper trail, where who knows? met who cares? in the quicksand of the lost. shoelaces, cell phones, rolling papers, broken glass, one-eyed jacks, matchbooks with names scrawled into them, worry stones, loose change. there, gathered en masse, were those who frightened her by their differences, ghosts, salt whispering of the great sea change.
sea
the open sea
Underneath the surface all is well. Don’t let life get you down. Don’t listen to all those people who are waiting to be discredited before they will finally open their eyes. Beneath the surface all is well. The waves are only growing larger and more threatening where the sea meets the sky. You may be up there in your sailboat trying to stay alive. All the worries and troubles of your life making you feel them so. All the people demanding you understand. Underneath it all, nothing has ever changed. All was always well deep in your heart and you know you can go there. Have faith over fear. Go there now and be the calm that always was, and let them believe in you like you believe in your god and yourself.
what we thought we ever knew about anything
the Sea
her depths
wash out of the green
to constitute
a firmament of
jellyfish
her depths
wash out of the green
to constitute
a firmament of
jellyfish
inexact
unspoken
wobbly
uncatalogued
drawn off the balance of
good will
unaccounted for
in waves
in rolls
pretty coins
ripped open
swaying in the
tide
the amplification
of which
throws off
any and all
of what we thought we
ever knew about
anything
sugar
 |
| K in Tahoe. pic by K’s brother |
These are the holidays and sugar runs high and mighty in the bloodstream. I wanna get back to baseline
back to water
back to coffee
rivers
and the sea
avoid the fake
and real news, too
back to books
and Tetley’s tea
all my old friends
and me
wild who we are
dally into dream. wild who we are
We began by recalling the sea. which was not hard to do, for the sea faithfully came back from far places with green bottles and messages inside, wrapped in the trendiest of weeds. the sea happily let us believe, then to lull us asleep to the tune of the tides. i dallied into a dream i had when i was younger, back then a stronger version of itself. i recalled it sadly now for now it could not capture me like those days back after a war, before a war. sadly like a strong figure, man or woman, who meant something to me looking up, looking up to as a child. or some strong oak tree now dying, now slowly. now drawn up in my drifting mind, as i intend to open my eyes unblinking upon it, as though i may recall it so well it’s not called recalling. where my memory ends it begins. the path made purely of small sea shells, both of my hands they were held. sweet talk of summer evenings and what ever to do. sounds and warm light spilling out of small houses. side by side. rolling granny applecores away beyond which wild flowers nobody need bother. leaving orange peels for a trail… wild is how i remember us then, and here, the foot of snail and sand, where our memories began.
