K-R-Watson - Hello Poetry

Tears are bound to fall in the winter time. When thoughts becomes frosted over, frozen, outside of the primordial locus of fleeting, flashing feelings. Dew drop diamonds on cheeks, Become icicles, That stick out like vampire teeth. Painfully piercing through the gums. Early morning cigarettes leave a permeating sting. Icy thoughts of weakness, How we won’t make it through this frozen tundra, winter, with its thrashing and bludgeoning. Yet, Hopeful for spring, That icicles will crack their caterpillar cocoons, And our tears will ride bicycles on sunny days, and board wayward trains to far away destinations. But For now it is December…. Fading into a soon forgotten January.

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Dec 21, 2021

Dec 21, 2021 at 3:54 AM UTC

K-R-Watson

Little tundras

Tears are bound to fall in the winter time. When thoughts becomes frosted over, frozen, outside of the primordial locus of fleeting, flashing feelings. Dew drop diamonds on cheeks, Become icicles, That stick out like vampire teeth. Painfully piercing through the gums. Early morning cigarettes leave a permeating sting. Icy thoughts of weakness, How we won’t make it through this frozen tundra, winter, with its thrashing and bludgeoning. Yet, Hopeful for spring, That icicles will crack their caterpillar cocoons, And our tears will ride bicycles on sunny days, and board wayward trains to far away destinations. But For now it is December…. Fading into a soon forgotten January.

23

San Fransisco, I’d been here plenty before, but the embers of the city that glowed faintly in mind we’re made up of imagined scenarios I’d lit in my head, a bonfire glowing in the future I dreamed existed outside my parents house. Now July has come, and I had long ago left the room of my parents house behind, and I had spent the last year experiencing dreams in my waking life in a mountain town. But in July, the bonfire of San Fransisco, that had become embers in my mind, roared right before my eyes and I walk the city streets, awake in a world of made up dreams, that keep me thinking I’m asleep, and waiting to awake, standing knee deep in my waders, in a river or stream in the mountain town I had to let go.

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Jul 27, 2021

Jul 27, 2021 at 5:36 PM UTC

K-R-Watson

I moved in July

San Fransisco, I’d been here plenty before, but the embers of the city that glowed faintly in mind we’re made up of imagined scenarios I’d lit in my head, a bonfire glowing in the future I dreamed existed outside my parents house. Now July has come, and I had long ago left the room of my parents house behind, and I had spent the last year experiencing dreams in my waking life in a mountain town. But in July, the bonfire of San Fransisco, that had become embers in my mind, roared right before my eyes and I walk the city streets, awake in a world of made up dreams, that keep me thinking I’m asleep, and waiting to awake, standing knee deep in my waders, in a river or stream in the mountain town I had to let go.

3

Living feels like I’m constantly raging against the nothingness of existing, like I’m living with all the bounds of humanity, that mean nothing, to find a purpose to waking up, and breathing and being, other than slowly dying along the way. And I spend all my energy trying to build a bridge between the duality of life and death, that constantly keeps me a raging builder and an awful architect.

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Jul 24, 2021

Jul 24, 2021 at 2:39 AM UTC

K-R-Watson

Duality

Living feels like I’m constantly raging against the nothingness of existing, like I’m living with all the bounds of humanity, that mean nothing, to find a purpose to waking up, and breathing and being, other than slowly dying along the way. And I spend all my energy trying to build a bridge between the duality of life and death, that constantly keeps me a raging builder and an awful architect.

4

Please no more sunlight. Bring your thunder, Make the sky quake with your wonder. I am your earth to Pilage and plunder.

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Jul 23, 2021

Jul 23, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC

K-R-Watson

Untitled

Please no more sunlight. Bring your thunder, Make the sky quake with your wonder. I am your earth to Pilage and plunder.

4

i adore cold weather. But not for the fires, Or the warmth of another person. I find something beautiful about it, And maybe even a bit lonely. It reminds me of bittersweet loss, And finding the strength to move on.

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K-R-Watson

Jul 21, 2021

Jul 21, 2021 at 10:55 PM UTC

WordsOnPages

cold weather

i adore cold weather. But not for the fires, Or the warmth of another person. I find something beautiful about it, And maybe even a bit lonely. It reminds me of bittersweet loss, And finding the strength to move on.

7

I WATCH i watch, from my window as the winds begin to pickup off the bay, to rise and swirl in clouds of dust and speck gritty and pinging through the eaves of this old house, forever battered and weathered year and year from storm after storm but still regardless of the storm or the season i watch, as the power lines whip and crackle like strands of tormented licorice, as the lights in the room, flicker off and on, i prepare myself once more for the onslaught that is natures way of giving everyone the middle finger, and still i cant help myself, i take the abuse and i watch by Michael Perry

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K-R-Watson

Jul 21, 2021

Jul 21, 2021 at 10:54 PM UTC

michael-perry

I WATCH

I WATCH i watch, from my window as the winds begin to pickup off the bay, to rise and swirl in clouds of dust and speck gritty and pinging through the eaves of this old house, forever battered and weathered year and year from storm after storm but still regardless of the storm or the season i watch, as the power lines whip and crackle like strands of tormented licorice, as the lights in the room, flicker off and on, i prepare myself once more for the onslaught that is natures way of giving everyone the middle finger, and still i cant help myself, i take the abuse and i watch by Michael Perry

17

We rock off the socks of all the kids down the block, who come out to the shows to get away. and we play music sweet like honey dew but our instruments don’t talk the way money do. We play sounds that pack a punch of the kid who’s parents don’t love him enough to make him lunch, so he hits the kid just doing his best until his stomach is fed and his starving heart is all that’s left. And when the man with the sweet tea smile walks in to collect, he will line his pockets and pat us on the back with the hand that just stole a nights meal cause what left will go to the rent. The starving artist will die by a needle tip, because he tied off his urge to eat with a band on the arm. Said he was injecting inspiration into his veins so he could write a new song to play and cover up his hearts hunger pains, and feed dying dreams. But Look mom Im in a band and well rock your socks off down at the local club, and feed the hungry pigs that keep us as pets, cause they make good company for starving artists that live for dreams and fear dying of regret.

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Oct 18, 2019

Oct 18, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC

K-R-Watson

Look mom I’m in a band!

We rock off the socks of all the kids down the block, who come out to the shows to get away. and we play music sweet like honey dew but our instruments don’t talk the way money do. We play sounds that pack a punch of the kid who’s parents don’t love him enough to make him lunch, so he hits the kid just doing his best until his stomach is fed and his starving heart is all that’s left. And when the man with the sweet tea smile walks in to collect, he will line his pockets and pat us on the back with the hand that just stole a nights meal cause what left will go to the rent. The starving artist will die by a needle tip, because he tied off his urge to eat with a band on the arm. Said he was injecting inspiration into his veins so he could write a new song to play and cover up his hearts hunger pains, and feed dying dreams. But Look mom Im in a band and well rock your socks off down at the local club, and feed the hungry pigs that keep us as pets, cause they make good company for starving artists that live for dreams and fear dying of regret.

6

Moonlit skin, reveals exoskeleton. All the Words kept hidden, And I want to read more.

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Aug 14, 2019

Aug 14, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC