Sade LK: Favorites

Feb 2014 Sade LK

out sane

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Klara

out sane

People say I'm "in"sane
but if losing myself
in what makes me happy
and drinking exactly 3/4
cup of coffee
every morning
and only stepping on the white
of zebra-crossings
for luck
and always having
my music volume
up to the maximum
and spending my saturdays
reading
and my nights
rereading
and my mornings pretending
that my life is a musical
and having extra happy days
when birds
replace my alarmclock

if all these things are what make you call me
"in"sane
I would never want you to even consider
calling me "out"sane.

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Blood.

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Moon Humor

Blood.

The blackness of night screams alive.
Voices shouting from the deepest place
buried away in my scarred mind.

Flashbacks,
and the penny taste of blood keeps me awake
dragging and twisting my exhausted
body and psyche further away from sleep.

Liquid of life burns through my veins.
I feel it flow knowing those under the sheets
lined up on sides of streets were left cold.

The smell of blood is thick tonight.
It persists on the hands of any soldier
long after arriving back home.

I swear I leave ****** finger prints and
stray scatters of crimson spatters all around.

The secrets I keep
are starting to drip
slowly out of me.

This poem is about PTSD.

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Stoned Stupidity

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Jack

****** Stupidity

It is within this rock I sit
Encased in regret, solidified guilt mortality
Hurt friend’s tear drops etch’d
Dead for all sense and purpose
Shifting on ancient sand’s sorrow
Blistered by dire gale forces breathing
Stoic between cracks in the lies
Weathering at rapid paces of mistaken footsteps
A mausoleum of loneliness
Branded with hot iron’d deceptions
Deafened of heartbreak earthquake tremors
Hammer and chiseled contaminates
Crushed bits of worthless rubble
Scattered in anguish’d apologies
****** by stupidity…

...dust on the wind

Feb 2014 Sade LK

How Is Your Heart?

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Charles Bukowski

How Is Your Heart?

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
******
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Some Sleep

Feb 2014 Sade LK

Just GS

Some Sleep

Break this pattern
Mind left scattered
In the wake
Of my mistakes
Restless souls with wicked dreams
In essence cold, elicit means
Paint a picture - a thousand words
Satan's whisper sounds absurd
Break the pattern
Like a mirror shattered
A new found fate
Still wrapped in plastic
My escape.
Elastic morals - relapse to hate
Drastic measures perhaps disgrace
Write the path but hear the pain
Fight the ash of desires flame
Again.
There is no rest without sleep
Yet, we sleep without rest
As I lay me down to think
What seems a blink, or maybe less
An alarm goes off inside my head
So I awoke just to question if I'd slept
Ask the clock if I'm awake
'No reply' I guess it's safe to say the answer is yes
And yes.