i only got one life to live and my part’s crestfallen off my head, my eyelids hanging half-mast tonight. my thoughts are no longer disorganized or petty or obsessed or compulsed, you see, i only got one life to live so i’m takin’ a train to faux hawk city, honey, and i won’t be comin’ back without you, no, i won’t be comin’ back all alone.
Tag Archives: style
lbd’s
lbd. saturdays
when sundays became mondays the world almost died of a heart attack. thank goodness our hair and air were fully conditioned. i wanted to stretch saturday and shake it out, but it was rigid as glass. by wednesday we were a distant memory with no return in sight. i would have to sweeten you up with something to get close again. how about a stringy lbd in an underachieving post? must i sing a song?
book reading
crisp like apples like childhood
i still like apples when they are crisp and cool and fresh, i like biting into them and the taste, it seems unlike life, which is a drag across the cold and hard face of a clock… when i catch an heirloom kinda apple in the palm of my hand it always fits, perfect like a baseball but better cause it’s unprocessed, more like childhood when the skin needs no astringent and all the body is firm and thoughts are clear and waking up is fresh and new and motivation is natural and intention pure – K
indie author K
indie author KatYa
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| indie author KatYa |
I am an Independent, self-published with several books to my name. I do hope to become a ‘Hybrid’ author some day, and am currently seeking representation (of course I wouldn’t wanna lose my humanity or anything). I’m proud to say there are now close to 100 total reviews of my work on Goodreads and Amazon combined, averaging better than 4 out of 5 stars. I also blog daily and publish flash fiction and creative nonfiction on my website, which has over 150,000 pageviews to date. I started a storytelling project on my youtube channel, where I read my work and enjoy creating video books, reading and writing have always been close to my heart. I get a lot of my ideas while running along the American River, and ran my first marathon last year. Soon I will be running in the ‘Way Too Cool’, my first Ultramarathon on the trails in the American River Canyon and I cannot wait! I do have to slow down my superhero once in a while and morph into a social worker to pay the rent, and have been counseling indigent peoples with mental illness for over a decade. In case you fancy degrees, I have a BA in English from Northwestern U. and a MA in Counseling Psychology. I play guitar for my 3 cats in my spare time, and have lost many a boy and girlfriend over my screeching insolence. I also roast and drink a lot of coffee, what’s new? I love to walk around cool neighborhoods and loiter around sweet coffeehouses, too.
the last living smile
many years from now
when shyness is the greatest of virtues
and skepticism the license
to live
and skepticism the license
to live
your eyes will come up over the ledge
of some old tome so heavy
in your hands
in a bare reading room
in the last living library
against the ticking
muffling the heart of
this city
and ask me
out from under the skein of our technocracy
what is goodwill?
and like a sun just risen
above any horizon
i will decorate the room
your face
will decorate
the room
my face
with the ancient
smile
urban dictionary. constitution
made an urban dictionary out of our constitution
When you came into my life I was shooting pool, and neither were the other kids in school. There was a break and all the balls started rolling, and who could be prepared for a world administered by twitter feed, half-mad on fast food fry-batter, running down an uphill battle? The recycled oil had turned, the battery gone dead. A postmortem analysis found the conditions out of which the nightmare came to steam. All the way in the back of the tired rolodex of eighties-punctured index cards, we located the moment butter got sideswiped by Country Crock. Even the name gave it away! Yet we accepted the substitute and without any hardcore/softcore vetting. Consider us fucked right there.
Dare I look into these projects you are slumming? Somewhere in each one a person pushed out front, coat-tails blowing up egos in need of personality. Altruism was suddenly a four-letter word like media and Muslim. You made an urban dictionary out of the constitution. Wannabe celebrities still slinging their ghostwritten books, to get a stab at some easy cash before the crap inside all the margins falls out of consciousness and to your cutting room floor… now ankle deep in film, archaic, in a dark corner of ill-literatures.
Meanwhile…
Here we find a thorough & recent review of my work:
GIBNEYS BLOG: BOOK REVIEW
keep it 100
Here is page 100 of Maze, I just got a lovely scanning application on my phone so I scanned my actual award-winning book for your reading pleasure, page 100. Meanwhile I wanted you to know I am locked in with the twisted sister, the next book which I hope will blow everyone away with its extravagance and dark beauty. Haha. I have relocated Kell several times in the narrative, she keeps ending up in strange places and I finally got her out in the fresh air, and she is hitting the streets of Oakland hard and finding her fresh psychic powers.
Here’s the link to the book if you like what you read and want to read some more. Thank you for supporting indie authors! MAZE THE BOOKjournal
Journal # 01.02.17
I started my day with a cadillac. Home-roasted Sumatra pour over combined with Swiss Miss dark hot chocolate. Some good music in Tycho’s latest album ‘Epoch’. Now seated at my desk and writing. This is where I love to be, what I love to do. I figure the more I can give myself this chance, the better off I am for you, too. I will give it my all today. Lucky #2017
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| finish line CIM. 2016 |
circa 09.01.2011
09.01.11
The truth is confusing, the confusion is disturbing, and reality does not give a damn. My heart holds vacancy for the life of them. and you. Still to attend to the sky in its entirety. Sea. The depths grow green to Royal blue. Where all lies over exposeD in a happy residue. Off center in allostasis. From the residual, extract the amplification. Subtract from that all that you already know or believe. The tattooed kneecap. the hair weave. The eyes tell of suffering behind capri ankles. The wrist-roll up to three quarters a sleeve. The honesty cannot be found from infusion thereafter. She was left to floats on water boiling. Like a poached egg. Then arises Thick, like crisis in love. Then arises as vapor- Clear
K IS SILENT 