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Kari Apr 2014
Screeching silence whispering
Truths your lips won't form
Letters from shapes to messages
Unsent piled high under the desk
Where secrets are swept, clean
Unseen by judging eyes
Stamped with footprints,
Soles ***** from creeping in beds
Of flowers in gardens your feet
Should never have sought
Sowing seeds you can't water.
Kari Feb 2013
Paint a smile on
your lips
like makeup.
Slip it on,
like a pair of shoes
or a handbag.
Hang it in the closet
at night,
with your shirts
and dresses.
You can wear it again
tomorrow.
Kari Feb 2014
There's a steady beat
Drumming in the background static and
I can't tell if it's water dripping,
A clock ticking time by or
My heart pumping while
It's alive.
Kari Oct 2016
All my boys, their eyes, upon me
Like peeping Gods from the heights of my
Mind. Their eyes--those lights--
Reflecting different spectrums of color
Hazel-speckled, deep black-brown
Gazing down upon me, from those bastions of
Memory, wandering somewhere above--
Dark shadows, eluding presence but always present
Always lingering behind the step of my feet
Trailing slowly, slowly.
Carried by the slack of my clicking heels.
Dragged into bed with me at night, with new boys
My new boys, their eyes, those lights
The spectrum of colors--
Kari May 2014
Moon shining     dead     light,
Lonely beams
                echoing               empty
Through still night and distant lands where
Fires grow flowers
Exploding
Through pavement doused in blood
From wars     waged    by men
Not as wise as you.
Kari Nov 2013
Hot oil burning  kernels
                      Jumping in stomachs
                                       Exploding and delicious
        Hot and   steaming    burning
Red like pokers
                Molten from flame
                                Bursting lips spark heated
Words like firecrackers.
Being angry is like making microwaveable popcorn.
Kari Mar 2014
Teeth ground to dust
Dirt, where it lies
6 feet under    wringing    hands
Ringing knell,    bells burned into
Ears popping vessels out to sea
Storms making waves causing wrecks
Biting nails between teeth
Ground to   dust.
I struggle with a major anxiety disorder. This is what it looks like.
Kari Feb 2015
I'll take you as you are, whether the
Tides have turned towards warm,
Tropic waters or ****** this ship upon
Jutting rocks too close to shore.
As you are, coming or going--
Opening the door or slamming it so
It breaks off the hinge and falls in splinters to the floor,
Piercing fragile fingers that try to mold
The fragments to the former whole.
As you are--when the dark makes you quiet and
Your eyes burn like fire or the
Love wells up inside you,
Breaching dams,
Gushing violently to swallow all in beautiful fury.
I only love you if there's chaos and madness.
Kari Nov 2013
Prayers answered by
Echoes of themselves imparting
No advice, 
Repetitions of the question
Asked over again
Whispering softer
Each time it is refracted.
No thunderous voice from clouds agape
To shed light through stormy skies
Or seas parted to pave the path.
Spread the blood of the martyrs and
The Lamb across my door,
God does not live here, anymore.
Kari Oct 2013
Eight-hundred miles underfoot and
Three-hundred and twenty-one dollars spent
On a Delta flight out of Newark
To spend two nights with a man I met
Once for one night, fifty-six hundred miles
And two continents away
Three months ago,
Returning only with
Two halves of one
Broken heart.
Numbers numbers numbers
Kari Dec 2013
I used to wonder
Where the road would
Take me but
That was before I knew
I would pave it
On my own.
Draw the map in lead
With your fingertips

We are
Cartographers.
Existentialism...
Kari Jan 2014
Another year and
While we're sharing toasts and cheers
I wonder what you're drinking and
Where you are.
Here's a toast to you
And the love we wanted to share
But circumstances and contexts
Couldn't allow.
I wonder if you're cheering and toasting and
Thinking about what I'm drinking
And where I am and who and what
I'm doing now and
I wonder if you're wondering
If I'm wondering about you, too.
Kari Apr 2014
Spirits riding winds
Spurred by past days spent living
Without being present
Shrieking   in the night  
Beating branches against window Shutters       begging    slumberers
Please wake,  please wake.
Kari Feb 2015
I burnt the tip of my cigarette into my
Tumbler to **** two habits with one stone.
Though the **** coughed its last sigh and polluted a decently-priced
Rye, I don't trust that the addiction died.

Tipped my finger to the 'tender to fill a new glass,
Struck the flint to the tinder, a tobacco mask.
They poison slow, but the effects are fast.

You, like these habits, are in the past,
Waiting for me at the bottom of a flask, swearing always
"It'll be the last."
Always crawling back for more.
Kari Sep 2013
We were mutual projections,
a story that existed only
In ourselves, caught in a
Series of circumstances that
So perfect, it had to be love.
But romances are best kept to novels
And the silver screen.
Fantasy is never the same in reality.
Kari Nov 2013
Expressions louder than
Paint on a
Clown.
Do not lie to me.
Your body tells truths
When your mouth
Refuses to form them.
Bum
Kari Apr 2014
***
Pulse;     life     lives    here
Clicking it's heels on  gum-speckled sidewalks    between     sirens and
Cigarette butts spouting carbon, Diamonds   at the right temperature,    
Polluting    for the time being
                    Wasted
In  drunken stupors under
Bright lights and the
                 would-have-been
             dreams of a has-been.
So many people come to this city with dreams...so few succeed..
Kari Nov 2013
Bus stops and
Bug-eyed sunglasses to block the
Fog-hazed sun.

The water falls by the bridge and
Atlas holds the globe in stone
The fog shrouds him, too.

Professor wears the sunglasses
And asks
What do you need to know?

Cobblestones and two-by-four
Planks buckling underfoot.

Natural light on brick,
Cement flower vase impressions mark the spot of
What I need to know.
A dream I had about wandering around Douglass campus and running into my professor!
Kari Feb 2014
Smooth your lips melt into me impart   
Advice biologically it doesn't
Take words to understand 
sensuality it's more a
thing 'comes
naturally.
;P
Kari Dec 2013
I forgot
That the geese fly south
For the winter when the
Chills begin and the air crisps
And black ice freezes death traps
On back-way roads.
"V "formation is natural
To militant
Mutual survival and
I wonder if their leader was
Born or
Made.
Kari Nov 2013
Black and white morals but
I live life in color and
When you put the rainbow in a blender
It all looks grey.
Morality is no binary
Kari Dec 2020
The air, stiff as a starched collar
Falls dead on breath, heaving tides
Pushing driftwood ashore
Land, the sigh of sirens ringing
Raising alarm for the fire, the hose
Too weak to engulf the flames
The whole thing burns down.
Kari Jun 2013
I had a soul, once, like a live animal.
It is dead now,  hunted and gunned down
by enthusiastic hunters and self-infliction and wine that drowned
and bled it to death, skinned and hung,
with bulging eyes glazed like glass,
leaving only sun-bleached bones and foul odor.
I had a soul, once, that flew like a bird,
and spread its wings at your voice
and the call of God, who has grown silent,
whose conversations once held in trust in dark places fall on ears deaf to thoughts and prayer and hope.
It was beautiful, once,
beautiful enough to be part of this beautiful world.
It has withered, now, like a plucked flower or an old man,
back bent, senile, ignorant, and
too broken to be a semblance or remembrance of its once former glory,
dead.
Kari Dec 2014
Phasing out
Conversations stretched like
Sparse cobwebs, where
Spiders tread with cautious
Care along exhausted fibers,
Stressed more with every step.
Weathered from passing years,
Paint, once bright peels in flakes
Like dead skin from steel
That bound it
Strong.
Kari Oct 2013
The sun is setting like
An ethereal scarlet orb behind
The naked tree, whose light
Shines behind spindly branches  
In rays that I mistook for
God's fingers when I was young,
Before my innocence had wilted like
Those red leaves that litter the ground
This time of year and release
That earthy smell that we mistake for
Autumn but is actually
Decay.
Kari Dec 2012
Young,as a child
I knew, someday, dreamed, someday,
I'd find a prince.
Grown, almost
I search,always, hope,always,
and find only men.
Kari Oct 2013
Do not hate your age
Or the fine lines that plague
Your face.
They are marks of wisdom,
Worn by years of sun and stress.
You dreamed of the future when
You were younger,
The world you would create.
Now, you fear the future
The final punctuation at the end
Of your story.
Do not fear death
Though it comes more soon each day.
Progress is a thing borne from
The passing of time
And would never have come if
Years had not gone.
When the light leaves your eyes
And the breathe is gone from your chest
Know that Death has not won.
You are written into books of history;
Trails of papers, poems, memoirs and
Memories you leave behind.
And these things will keep you
Forever alive.
For a man I love who grows older...
Kari Sep 2013
You can accelerate to
Try to
Compensate but
I saw your brake-lights beam
Red, and I know
Your natural inclination was
To stop
Before guilt brought your
Foot to the pedal.
I know you saw me, I know you wanted to stop.
Kari Nov 2013
Ticonderoga, bite-marks to the lead
Bare-bone, grammar school and phonics
Sentence structures, finger paint
Yarn through cardboard looms
Shel Silverstein and crab-apples
One day I will change the world.
Kari Mar 2014
Flash   your face in subway station
Corners of the eyes in
Strange passers by     evasive
Run awry    racing   shadows
Between thoughts of mine
Jump  how  by surprise
Flash your face in their corners of the eyes.
When you can't stop thinking about someone and start to see them everywhere.
Kari May 2013
I am not your wife, or daughter.
I am the skeleton in the closet
While you sit together sharing
Sweet smiles and laughs
Over sentiments I will never be part of.
Family man with a happy home,
Why are you unfulfilled?
Lay with her at night, but
Night-time dreams bring me to
Your quiet bed.
You love her still, but
Where a flood of passion
Once brought you to embrace
Has become a slow and steady river,
And visions in your mind wander between
Young thighs.
One last moment of freedom, rebellion and
Youth before all has fled and
Feeble mind and feeble body receive
No coy flattery or passing glance.
You are just a man,
And all men fall to the right woman.
A man I care about too much for reasons which I don't understand.
Kari Oct 2013
I hear that men are better
At putting bread on the table and
Making dough.
But I always thought women
Belonged in the kitchen,
So when it comes to baking bread
And kneading dough,
I think, as women,
We would know.
Kari Sep 2013
We keep an empty chair
Between us so our consciences stay
Clean, but your legs are crossed,
Your shoe points in my direction.
Our feet like to lead us
Where our hearts have already wandered.
I like to think about you
Getting dressed in the morning,
pulling on your shoes.
I wonder if it crossed your mind
That later your shoe and my boot
Would touch under that empty chair.
Kari Nov 2013
Justice    is forgiveness
Vengeance,   benign.
Retribution feels best,
But what is right,    divine.
Kari Sep 2013
Funny to think how
fork to lips and food to mouth
spurs digestions
Fueling
body parts which could not move
or function without fork to lips
and food to mouth.
And if we actually stopped eating
for once in our lives we would  starve
and our organs would cease to function
because forks not raised to lips
bring no fuel to body parts
So that they cannot move
Or function.
Funny to think how fork to lips
And food to mouth is
An act so simple but
If we didn't do we'd die without.
Kari Apr 2014
White crane fishing trackside for
Vestiges of nourishment from
Newark muck and Secaucus slush:
            Be aware;
Three-eyed tadpoles live in these waters,
Breeding alongside rotting corpses--
Mob jobs gone wrong and various
Plastic garbage.
We need to clean up Jersey.
Kari Dec 2013
A horsepill
when swallowed
chokes you.
Kari Nov 2013
Mt great grandfather was
A Swedish violinist,
Back in Goteborg,
Like in Phantom of the Opera.
I like to think of him
Walking through cobblestone
Alleyways past pastel houses
And little markets selling lingonberries,
Playing his violin.
I heard he loved someone, once.
A woman before my great-grandmother.
I wonder if he played songs for her,
I wonder if she cried when he did.
But they're all dead, now.
His violin hangs on the wall
At my grandmother's house in Jersey,
Dry from all tears,
With splintered strings like torn
Vocal cords, no longer able to
Sing.
Kari Mar 2013
I am alone,
my mind wanders.
I wonder if you'd smile
if you knew
that my thoughts spiral
and race,
always coming home
to you.
Kari Apr 2013
I am a ghost.
All I need is my spirit.
I ride on a gust of wind,
chasing whims and shadows.
I am lost, wandering,
hiding in dark places.
Like a flower plucked half-bloomed,
Promising potential,
never reaching actualization.
Kari Mar 2014
Pause        hairs on neck standing
Who, what is that impending, lurking
Shaking hands at intersections with
Pedestrians    blissful   on their way

At night alone walking,  strange
Steps    echo                 disembodied
Following       knowing    stalking and

In the haze of city street lamps
A figure fogged in passing glance
Laughing in alleyways while
I run to live one more day.
Kari Mar 2014
Eyes on me.
I know they wander   thigh  to   thigh
                    Girls passing by in skirts
      shorter  
                  than
                         ­ mine
Eyes on the prize wave goodbye to
               Pretty girls passing by
Please let me be the
                                    pretty
                     ­          one
                    tonight.
Feeling desperate, occasionally.
Kari Dec 2013
Liberation
Is speeding down
Back roads
In the dark, windows down
In the pouring rain and
Sticking your hand out  so that
Water droplets sting like pins and
Needles when they slam
Against your palm at 80 miles an hour.
Liberation
Is loving someone when it's wrong
And doing it anyway
Because 'god ****** I'm free'
And I'll love who I want even when
I have no right
Even when they're bound, gagged, tied
And held for ransom by a ring on
Their finger.
Liberation
Is getting on a plane to fly
Across the country on a whim
Because there may just be a chance
That that man I met once
Halfway across the world could
Fall in love with me when my feet get off
That plane.
Liberation is cracking open your head
And looking at your skull
And blood is life that sludges
Out of you and you wake up
A few days later realizing that
If you had died it wouldn't
Have made a difference, anyway.
And knowing that next time
You're dying you will
Make **** sure it
Matters.
Kari Apr 2013
In another life you were a philosopher king,
and I, your eager subject.
I loved you then, too.
I still love you, I will love you,
in this life, the last, and more to come.
I am your fatal flaw, blemish,
one weakness and curse.
It's why you still love me, did love me,
and why you will love me,then, too,
in this life, the last, and more to come.
Kari Oct 2015
Silence,     screaming lies
The lion in the sun
Bathing     in the bubbling      s p r i n g s
The grass towards the sky kissing
Lips, dead or try
Harder, faster,      cry
Now,   again   , on high--
The pastor, to the choir
Sing PRAISE                        Hallelujah...
Lord!     Oh my and my fingers
Round' your ears, caressing skin
Me alive, as long as I'm here
                                           By your side.
Could we?
Kari Nov 2014
Disembodied sequences of
Messages, coming in
Intervals between minutes of hours.
Fragments of information flung
Through tangled webs and into my palm,
Waving with letters through a
Glass screen.
Always in my hand or pocket
But never besides me.
Kari Apr 2013
Careful,cautious,
tip-toe and
dance
around the topic.
Slight of hand,
Subtle motions.
Fuzzy words
with clear motives.
Kari Apr 2013
We would never work. I need stability and security. I need safety. But you, you're inherently unsafe. You seek out chaos and conflict intentionally because you think it's interesting. If you were on the Titanic,you'd be pouring champagne and singing while the ship went down. Everyone would be screaming, getting into  lifeboats, and you'd be standing there on deck, with your glass of champagne, laughing, and you'd still find your way off the **** boat without even trying.

Are you familiar with the story , "The Monkey's Paw?" There's this magic monkey's paw, like a rabbit's foot kind of, and it grants any three wishes you want . The problem is, for every wish that comes true , there is a terrible, huge cost. Being with you would be my wish. You're  everything I want, and everything I'm not, and you would ruin me. You don't consider consequences, and if we were to end, you would move on to the next experience that seems interesting. But I would never recover. Being with you and losing you would devastate me so much that I can't even consider taking that risk.

You're like a high -risk investment. You could make me extremely wealthy, or I'll end up on the street.

I've never known someone with so much anxiety and so little fear.

Face it, the reason you're into feminism isn't because you want to raise up other women-- it's because you want to be held to the same standard as men. You know you're not just better than most women you meet, but that you are smarter, fiercer and more ambitious than most men, too. You want to be recognized as the best PERSON in the room, not just the best woman.


Do you really want me to try and stop you? You don't , because no matter what I say, you're going to do it. If anything the best way to discourage you is to encourage you, but you'll still do what you want anyway.And if you choose not to do it, it won't be on moral grounds, but just because you want to deny yourself a passion to prove that you can say no to yourself, that you have control, and that's not much better than doing it anyway, isn't it?
You are the strongest woman I've ever met. You hardly ever know what you want, but when you think you want something, you go out and get it. You never hesitate, you ignore your fear, and you don't care about morality. Sometimes though, you feel ashamed of yourself , and hide in your charms. You do it for so long and try so hard that you forget yourself. Don't forget yourself. You seek out people who have the passion and motivation you think you lack, but you have these things more than anyone. And most of all, you are powerful. I can't explain the power that emanates from you, but it's like a force of nature. You can't hide it and you shouldn't. You need chaos and conflict and madness to keep going, because you ARE chaotic, conflicted and mad.You need to stop feeling guilty and afraid of yourself, and be the person you are, not the person you think you should be.
This isn't a poem, but it's so poetic I needed to share it. For four years, my friend Neil and I have played a game of cat and mouse. Tonight has finally had a conversation about our feelings for each other and why we can never date.

Probably the most egotistical, narcissistic thing I've ever written but I've never heard anyone describe me so perfectly. Neil knows me like no other person does....

Also it's a bit choppy, had to write all of this down as quick as I could before I forgot the things he said.... Sorry!
Kari Jul 2013
I've always been an unusual girl,
and while other girls and boys made friends,
I fell in love with stories inside my head.
My childhood was never on earth, but
spent in far-off places in castles, where I was
a princess, or a wild viking warrior queen,
and my people loved me, they bowed, they would
clap and sing songs of praise at my benevolence,
my demure and generous character, and beauty.
And back on earth I was alone, but content with
the characters inside my head.
As years passed, their voices faded, and though
I would struggle to keep in contact, postmen won't ship
to figment places, and pen-pals are hard to keep when
they don't exist.
It's hard to realize that conversations with friends in the dark
were only really with yourself.
I became overwhelmed with
Loneliness, determined to find the people from
my stories in reality, and always hoping, always dreaming,
and always searching for the Prince, who I knew already--
who I'd spent countless nights with, laying in fields of flowers
and holding hands under the starlight, and watching the moon
pass through the night sky.
And at night, sometimes, in the real world, I would watch the
moon pass through the sky, and know that somewhere , on some distant shore in a land far, far away, that you did
exist, that maybe, at some point, we were looking at the same
moon at the same time, and for a split second, maybe, we were
inevitably and invariably connected, that our hearts could collide
even across time and space and realities.
I remember when I was a child, that I thought time stops
when you meet the love of your life, like in those stories
your parents always tell to you about how they met.
And when I saw you I knew I had seen and felt those eyes before,
that these were the eyes that had locked with mine across time and
space and reality on lonely nights spent watching the moon
pass through the night sky,
and time really did stop.
Reading this a year later, I realize how wrong I was...woops!
Kari Dec 2012
Your eyes are dark.
A stone, tossed,
would make
no resounding splash
in those depths.
Hand pressed to lips
Will hide the smirk on your face,
but those eyes will always
betray you.
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