Kitten's Litter

Aloof toddler swings back and forth
on a deserted playground.

Sobs and trembles.

upon reading a few times, i 've decided that its just a personal reaction to these lines which makes me not like it. i've seen the crying child used in tearjerk movies and such, which makes it feel maudlin to me - referencing old images, you know? So thats it - it feels recycled to me, not new.

but it does fit overall of course.. with the chaplain, the pregnant girl, the passerby, the stray, all the different characters in the painting.. now the poem makes me feel like i could see it all in panoramic view from a park bench - like a darker , more angular, inner city rockwell or something .. haha, you were going for the humanity, and now i'm all hung up in the visual.. stupid readers! ( but if i could paint, i would paint it ).

 

Ah I see what ya getting at wideyed. Cool beans.

Pretty much for the majority of it!

 

life to some is a race
to comptete but dont loose face

while some aim to reach a space of their own
a space they can call their own zone

perhaps il sit and ponder
and try to find myself amongst the other clouds and dreams

 

Never basked in father’s reflective eye.
Never been nurtured by femininity,
and at times felt stark animosity,
sibling rivalry stung my pride.

Who shut my window of opportunity?
Genes supplied future parameters,
it’s true,
but my template was all skewed.

Mum worked all day, provided crumbs,
seldom digested conversations.

Mostly lived vicariously
through the oldest,
trained her feminine charm.

What about me?

I didn’t mind, thought my time would come.
Absentee relationships thrived.

What has become?

Shame, in this cracked bowl of ashes.
Cocooned safety in rags,
I’ve been trained for years and years
to lament.

fucking Cinderella.

 

Your fertile emotions wrap me up in a longing to touch your cheek with my words. My consistent repetitions, of honoring your noble presence, is all I can still mutter. These nimble fingers seek to caress your gifts, with black and white keystrokes, yet this one knows his efforts will evaporate in the wake of a non-virtual courter who swiftly arrives to return your slipper.

 

DNA danced, leaped from edge to edge,
in the end, stuffed scarecrows with sawdust of traits
and left ancestor paw prints all over the countenance.

Sequence of circumstances stimulated
agricultural boom in the Crescent,
once self-proclaimed masters,
now reaching a point of human descent

into realization of inevitable plummet,
all because we can not admit,
that for the last thousand of years
we’ve been wrong at how we live.

Population, famine, wars, disease,
technology, science, missionaries,
government, economy, money, cashiers,
advancement, progress and growth spur.
Consuming all and expecting more.

We are the gods,
free to break the natural laws,
pardon our evils,
we have fundamental flaws.

But this is our price,
accept generations of lies,
for the sake of being called
civilized.

 

Sweet, brilliant one. Thank you for sharing your love and being so patient.

http://www.crystalinks.com/12strandna.html

 

"In whose glance...." - This one was so open, personal, and raw; and it really had that outside looking in quality. Your technique was excellent as well, your first stanza really set the tone with its power, and then you began releasing revelations in calm reflective fashion. The last stanza was simply amazing, as well; and "fucking Cinderella." ....that was such a loud, explosive finally! Beautiful, touching work.

"Planet Earth" - I really really liked this one; the overall effect of this one seems a pretty straight forward comment, and yet it gets me thinking about so much more! I don't think there's any greater gift to be received from any artistic expression, be it a painting, a movie, a book, or a poem (etc.): when the context of what you've witnessed stimulates further thought progression, that is a thing to be treasure... so I thank you generously

 

hey you ballerina snowflake,
gliding butter on the surface,
my eyes shift their weight,
onto your thighs,
and want to sizzle you,
make you my bride.

I would gladly assist
with your suicide,
before you melt, become a woman.
but my office hours are closed,
and I’m actually fond
of your new lilac hue.

stay here for a bit,
talk of endless rubbish.
hypnotized rabbit,
I’ll listen, but can’t promise
I will care.

don’t pout,
my canvas is screaming,
for your slender fingers,
to walk down a couple miles
and paint me gray.

you’re grainy, oily and brittle,
but I forgive and bribe you
with a clumsy smile.

come let me water your mythology,
sit on my palm,
while I’ll sketch our kingdom map.

one leg stuck in tar,
you hiss at me
your timid savior
and a cunning spider.

don’t be a brat,
come, let me envelop you
in all my musky love.

 

this rocks, girl! I always love when you write in that sarcastic tone, and this has great layering to it, some sensuality, some death, some condescending observation; wonderful! The beginning three stanza's were particularly powerful, stunning stuff!

that demands applause!

 

Sharp and graceful work painting a colorful tapestry of feelings and dreams.
Taboos come from indulging in objectified activities which are deemed inappropriate by self or society. Innocence is an ageless state of the heart, when truth and trust are offered in the commitment to be fully present in the vulnerable moment. Our energy is dispersed when spent as a commodity and not circulated as communion. Don't give away your foundation in reactivity. For uplifting sharing, seek to respond as you would like to be met in return. Checking to see if the other is on the same page before continuing to spend time reading. Seeking a clear reflection that honors your intent. What is this person bringing to my path? Sourcing self worth from others actions inevitably leads to disappointment.

 

I’ve decided it’s time
to parch the sockets,
scoop out chromatic eyes.

After all you’ve once said
they were pretty.

No use in secrets now,
...the paint is cracked,
...onion tears burst,
...mucous cough
...and my pixels blurred.

I was bare,
barely breathing.

You’ve said nothing,
and the silence confirmed.

 

I’m coated in dead cells,
and scratch to murder more.

Every nights’ boredom
translates into intimate war.

Pink tattoo spirals,
spirals that embroider
foreign towns,
scars mark the boundaries
of alienated zones.

I envision battlefields,
where each side keeps score.

Teeth file claws,
bite the tongue, be quiet.
Faintly emitted light still
insults my eyes.

So shut the blinds.

Behind the paper walls,
I prance in armor,
dragon plates make me
feel impervious to harm.

My heart can buffer shots,
I've grown a callous crater.

 

Great lines throughout, but this was my favorite part, such a vivid image of blurry words on a computer screen. The brutal, honest passion here is wonderful, and I thank you for sharing this

 

Then ya must be seeing something that I'm not!
This has nothing to do with computer/cyberworld, maybe -pixel- threw you off...but hey I don't see how you'd get anything computer related from the rest of the poem...

 

Combat evokes images of an armored amazon,
mentally cutting herself and watching her thoughts bleed...
waiting for an amorous healer to arrive and mend,
yet receiving nothing in return but lowered energy.
Pink tattoo spirals and dragon plates, these pulse w/ power.

 

~ KittenX, I love coming into this thread and reading your poems. Makes me smile hugely to be able to enjoy what you share with us on this site (lucky too that you chose here too). Theres only a handful that I know Will consistently delight me, touch a chord deep inside, and that are so very well written. Sorry I'm a bit of a lamer when it comes to responding to what I have been reading. The last two hit a chord...very well put. Thanks again, and again, and again~!

 

Thanks gdh, your comments are appreciated.
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Absent mindedness,
has a pleasant buzz,
of coffee and
delayed responses.

Tardy knowledge,
requires lots of bandages
for these hurt nicks
of feeling.
It’s tough to be malleable
at once.

But it’s o.k.,
to be tenacious.
My, my, impressive,
you don’t fail, waver
or feel connection.
Drop off the sunset at my doorstep,
then leave.

Woke up, packed, brushed and ready.
What do I really matter?
Just shrug, it’s time.
O.k. Goodbye.

 

'ok goodbye" was awesome. the aching desperation and resigned goodbye are conducted so well as this unfolds. "my, my, impressive" I loved that line, that whole stanza so much. and as this one ends, the depressed elements complete. so raw! thanks for sharing this

 

Hello KC.
[Scorpio vixen]

Your uneventful summer
is quite extraordinary to me.
[Do tell]

You nudged me over,
sat by my side.

We shared a continent,
for a couple minutes.

I was dumbstruck,
dangled my feet,
clenched to the rim.

If only I had flair to offer,
or anecdotes and sass.
Alas I must be dull.

Your star dust coated
my eyelashes,
then you jumped off and
I was left alone.