Skree

Hello little one.

Im sorry I've been away so long.  Can I come hide with you?  Can we lay between the stems and stalks?  Never seen, little friend, always one to miss.  Never seen, little friend, come, can we talk?  Maybe just a whisper, maybe just a kiss?  Daily sitting under Flower, its the white one, the emerald tower.  Can I sit awhile?  Watch the sun go down?  When Sun falls below the ground, Mo will hold us, Mo will show us.  Dark blakets, so scure.  Another night to endure.

Come little friend, hide me in a pettel.  Come little friend, show me the way.  Hide together, little feather, another passing day.

The Bent Mirror

I had this thought that just rings in my ears.  I'm pathologicially unimpressed with myself and have been for years.  Better to hide, better to fade, better lurk, better to stay inside.  Is there something wrong with me?  When I look at myself, with what I see?  Everyone seems so ready to say, the golden apple is theirs, at the end of the day.  Kallisti I see, but will it ever be me?

Goodbyes are hard to raise.  Lost in my heart, lost in my maze.  Just a bother, just a fuss.  A perfect silence I would muss.

Can you pound a mirror back true?  Will it ever show the real you?  Will it just crack and shatter?  Does it even matter...

The pyous say humility is a glory.  Better to be the quiet and rightous story.  But I cant believe it, its just a lie.  It all is, but this sickness just wont die...

Something of Nothing

Lately I just dont feel like I have much to say, these whispered thoughts this long drowsy day.  Things just go, moving fast, moving slow.  Everynights wish becomes nothing but a show.  So many wishes, so many plans, its like its someone else I have in my hands.  Another string, glowing life.  Anothers desire, anothers sharp knife.

This side and that side.  What I tell myself, what I lied.

Crazy rantings in rymes, simple flashes of time.  Snapshots of a time so slow.  Passing by like melting snow.  Yet somehow I look and I see, I think to my self, “This isnt me...“

Lately its memories of days long past, the ones that I thought would last and last.  Shocking, sometimes, to see how far they have wondered.  I cant help but smile at so much squandered.

I was writting my book, I gave and never took.  My wishes were dreams, to be held and forgotten.  I felt like they wernt for me, like I was adrift at sea. 

Suddenly I wake and find, all I wished for was always mine.  Waiting just behind the vale, right ourside my secluded dale.  Tapping on my shoulder, saying, “You are worthy“.  Cutting throuht this hearts long apathy.

So odd, that now as ever, I still think like I‘m used to thinking.  Like my mind is lost and my boat is sinking.  But thats all just ghost of misty times.  Of shadowed summers, of unspoken rymes.

Ash Wind

So burned out, just a shell of smoke and hell.

So tired... like a pound of iron cold on each breath.

I really need a change, I really need to stop settling for the ash on the wind.

Settling for smoke and mirrors, scared of dreams and fears.

Self destructive cures, when theres nothing but the button.

Reset the great machine, the slaver, the cruel and mean.

Days of daze and daze of days.

Through it out the ashen wind.

Drive out colors, smear your dirt.

Cover light, fill heart with hurt.

If I just hid my face away, stayed secluded, will decay.

Would it notice, that great machine, would my mind finally wash clean?

Empty

An empty chair, an empty place in my heart.  A bitterness turned just slightly tart.

Thank you... Thank you...

You really have disappeared.

My smile aglow in the disconnected thread that is today.  Your ghost is gone and vanished; lost in times sweet delay.  This curve through space is broken and faded.  Not so hurt, not so jaded.

Thank you...  Thank you...

Find elsewhere to drive your spear.

How subtle is the washing of the sands of time.  How quietly out of heart and out of mind.

Thank you... Thank you...

Waking Unreality

Red stripes and little red pipes.  Useless and unneeded are not clueless but unheeded.  We have problems with problems in this crazy Kmart kingdom.  Some we take to far, others we hold like our wishing star.  Ballanced so well we fall, fly straight up and stall.  Do we sink into a stupor without time?  Will we wake at the lights sweet chime?  So much it asks, two laughing masks.  Now and now and how and how.  The truth will shine, but is it mine?  So easy it is to look, turn the page; open the book.  All is seen there within, be it truth or fantasy's kin.  But how lost we are, eyes upthrust to golden wishing star.  Tripping over unexpected feet, shocked to find our own red meat.  How can we not but stop and stare, fleeting feeling if running dare.  Waking unreality, nothing but a fallacy.  Drift and dream, castles and cream.  Move and dance, dunes and romance.  I dont see this line, that holds your world from mine.  But we all often hold back, doors tight without slack.  Easy way out, lose scream and shout.  Quick rush, little blush.  Win, and already thinking of what's been.  Waking unreality, such a little fallacy.  Life is such a little crack, starts and then can't hold back.  Thinking of the cradle, a place calm and stable.  A flowers day dream of a seed, from the ground its never freed.  The last creed that we have left, from sunny farm to darkest cleft.   Grow and thrive, be alive.  But how blind we are, nearsighted or far.  We need the now or need the then, but can we find our ballance again?

Songs.

What is it about sharing experiences that make us so keen on being able to retell a tale that we lose ourselves out of the moment.  Sometimes I am places that are so perfect I try to hide behind my camera.  Sometimes I'm glad when I don't have one.

I found a place of such overwhelming beauty that all I could think was how to capture it.  What a relief when I realized I couldn't, and that all I was left with was living it.  To be forced to be current.

And such wonders it was, rolls of whispy clouds folding back on themselves, glowing gold and silver.  A blue dome so delicate it could break at any puff of breeze into green or pink.  Tall grass waving softly over smears of colored flowers.

Look at me, doing it again..  Trying to share it all, but what a poor stand in..  These black and white crudeities, meaningless meanings enclosed in something so meaningful.  What an odd thing is our song, only in that we all sing to eachother.

Slide

Claid my skin in silver, so that I can shine.

The world reflects off me, highlighting what is mine.

What is lost to some is home to others.  How can anywhere truely be lost?  It can only be unfound.

The ground breaths under my feet, and the sky sings.

The ground breaths under my soul, and the angels spread their wings.

The ground breaths under my eyes, in long happy sighs.

The ground breaths under my heart, and it opens up my eyes.

The green willows heart is open,

A butterfly glides out from within.

Standing watch over its twin,

In the mirror it knows nothing of sin.

;)

We are interrupting the normally scheduled blog to bring you this important message:  to the normal author of this blog:  you are very much loved.

Signed,

Your Kate