HistoriesI am Apollo in mourning, watching flowers grow eternal
from divine envy and base acts. Watching such violence fraternal
tests a god's patience, tries his heart; the pain renders him nocturnal.
History unfolds before me; I can but watch them, paternal.
I'm the emperor of cut sleeves, whose passions run high each morning
when I wake with him beside me; my priorities, sans warning,
changed on the first day that we met, and my sacrifice, adorning
the lesser in silk, changed our tongue, made idioms of adoring.
I'm obscenity in courtrooms, and moral outrage in the press.
Victorian nights fell fast then, but I beat their urge to repress,
and though my sons may disown me, I made my own way to success.
The gavel or the people’s glares, it mattered not what they expressed.
I'm closet cases lost in church, and men who knew not what they were.
The priestly collar or cold chains – what metaphors lie in these prayers,
and what truth stands up against me? These old ideas with layers
EventideOn distant shores the sun is setting
and I feel the ocean in your lungs;
I feel the words dry on my tongue.
There is no virtue in forgetting.
Across the sea a new tide falls,
and I cannot feel it for your lack.
The waves are lapping at our backs,
and all the sirens have ceased their calls.
All Hallows Eve My winter coat
is your long lost shadow
won't ever let go
All Hallows Eve
I'll keep you close
in the deep of my sleep
The secret rose will dream
in a quarter of this moon-beam
(in compass with the rain
your name calling in vain)
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.
Of Home And HeartThey say ("Home" is where our heart is...)
The phrase isn’t mine, obviously.
our heart is here but not completely,
there but not entirely,
anywhere but not exactly,
everywhere but not precisely.
nowhere but in the longing of our dreams... certainly.
our home is our heart
and this duel-dwell is a killing-me-slowly dart
Make It CountIt’s fourteen steps from the door to the wall. I’ve been counting for an hour. The guard goes to the door, turns on his heel, then I count:
One. Two. Three.
I can’t hide forever. Either he will divert from his path and discover us or the others he’s with will come back. Regardless, anything changes in this situation and we're done.
Four. Five. Six.
His footfalls are sharp; precise. He’s wearing boots and khaki pants and a black shirt, like he’s trying to be military but not quite making it.
Seven. Eight. Nine.
There’s a whimper and I try not to make a sound of my own. The baby I came to rescue is stirring in the carrier on my lap. I can see his lips twitching, his head beginning to shift. I find the pacifier in the seat and hold it up to his lips. He opens his mouth automatically and takes the offering.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve.
My heart thuds in my chest. Fourteen is the scariest number, because at step number fourteen,
I am a scarp.
Just a filament.
a mere crater
between the two.
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.
Friends. Friends are people who are supposed to stand by your side. Pick you up when you are down. They are supposed to do right by you.
I can’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case with some of my friends. The memories are feint now, but I can feel them playing in the back of my mind.
Friends don’t always do the right thing. Some times they try there very best to ruin you. They play games. They mess with you. They get into your head and completely just screw around.
*Missed call from Tyrannosaurus*
I stared at my phone blankly. It was late at night. I literally held my phone as it rang. I could have answered it. I could have talked to someone I may have known… but I didn’t. My hand just shook and I did nothing. My instinct told me it was best to let the call dive deeply into the shadows.
The Tyrannosaurus was a mod in the system. That is what the rumors say. I had a warning from him before. I knew him somehow… I just didn’t
Of Innocence and Greyscale DreamsI can hear the air con engine above everything else. Its voice living louder than my professor's who is three feet away from me in this tiny plot of 23 students. If I let myself drift I can hear the video documentary playing in the next room. It plays like an old radio and images flicker in my mind in black and white. Like in a 50s era flashback, I can see bored students in starched shirts and pressed dresses, staring without seeing at the antique light box. Cartoons weren't mindless enough yet to capture anyone above one. They dreamt of other things. They dreamt of running through grimy city streets with kites and strung-together old cans. They dreamt of the noise of their laughter with the click-clack of shoes against pavement. Candy was the currency and kids could be cruel without actually causing any harm. Damage was a thing that could be fixed and light shows were all it took to feel eternity.
They were innocent and innocence is in not knowing that the world can hurt you. No one h
Coming Back on a Day of Returning
It's amazing how wind can clear your perspective on life.
Walking out on my wife had been hard, but only because I couldn't take my daughter with me. I remember that I had to live in my truck until I got my next paycheck, and even then all I had was enough money to get a rented room. I still had to provide for my wife and child, and I had pay the mortgage on their house. I couldn't afford a place big enough for myself and Kelsey. And I'd lose a custody battle anyway.
I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't let the separation between me and Diane create a separation between me and Kelsey. But with two sets of living expenses to pay, I had to take every ounce of overtime I could get. Three months ago the foreman's position opened up. I took it because it meant a steady salary that kept me in the black, but the hours were long.
This week marked one year that I'd been out of the house, and I have been working like crazy
Current Residence: New York CIty|
Favourite genre of music: i am the "moment" type of listener...
Favourite style of art: photography, and painting (i like the old ones)
Personal Quote: "dream like you will live forever...live like u will die tomorrow"