Suffocated in a jar, The fog pushes down on my limbs, I become a tiny spec on the inside of your arm, and a piece of art from within, I don’t see the past as holding any barriers, since the water was stopped long ago, but each waking day and each slumping night, I see… Continue reading Tinker
If you’re waiting for the light, then you’ve already missed the tunnel. If you’re struggling for the truth, it’s just self-breed denial. I’ve never lost myself in a crowd or inside a store— I’ve just gotten mixed like a salad & confused reflections with the door. Perception is a prankster, a trickster, if you will.… Continue reading If
I write to release the past I assume is me- I write to recover false descriptions of integrity. Shall I embarrass myself by being to be- or underwrite the script that my actions perceive.
I am Kendra, & this is so-- I bellow it deeply & repeat costumes from my drawer. My well of emotions is from the whole of my control-- I find it odd to label what is not of one's own- Then why do I claim the words as mine known- when in actuality it… Continue reading Ж
On nights like these, I think what is it to be free? An abnormal response, or a predetermined destiny? I've been to the skirts of our lands of time, and I’ve retraced many moments with the pupil of my eye. So, I aim, now, to be above that— [which is below myself too] To reflect… Continue reading It is Windy Outside the City
I often ask myself, How many pages are left? In my book? From my pen? Are things to be different, if they can’t stay the same? Past Barstow, due West— I lost track of the time. I left my baggage on the carousal & never looked behind, because this race was for the big ones,… Continue reading Antiquity
I write for you, in moments of time, I fill in the mad lib, & ad lib most theoretical finds— I purchase a thesaurus, So I can tell you, all the ways thoughts pass over me, in waves, of you. I seek passages of informity, to relish in the new— of sweet, of current, of… Continue reading Channel 11, Parallel News
Motions move through my skin like sea bound repercussions. —To obey who art within— … How to scribble the words of a madman speaking on point, through mouths of recreation & subjects of joint. Shall be one to hold & one to see, Shall be one for the masses, lightening the load for thee. Where… Continue reading The Pulley
I keep a crystal ball in my pocket— for emergency purposes, you see… For if I ever forgot it, it would seldom be beneficiary— to any situation, or circumstance of rhyme, I do it to remember, I’m never trapped in any single frequency of mind. I fall upwards, in silhouettes of mixtures of scented pine.… Continue reading Manifest Destiny
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