i don't have a way with words
less poet
more the howling fool that chases them apart
my sweaty struggles always leave me blinded and alone
owed nothing
clinging to
empty

empty
spaces
i call these spaces stories
and like the siren that grants
a shipwreck and death against razor sharp rocks
i lure them in
found their deepest darkest secret

every word wants nothing more
than to die like a story
see,
i have a way with stories
and i'd like to imagine
that stories take up a place as the echo
of love when it grows from that first enticing smile
or the infant cry when it purges childhood pain
deep down in the hidden treasuries of
your most heartfelt of hearts
me tracing this with pitch black ink on paper
you committing this to your beating crimson heart
we're connected with an ancient thread that
even the gods dare not tear apart

see they too
in all their might and glory
want nothing more
than the epic bliss
of a truly good
and heartfelt
story.

I

Waiting for my clock to break an arm
I wonder why there are two moons
In the sky on the mirror above the ground
I stroll upon in the dark dark night
But who would listen to my footsteps
That contradict their own resonation
For I always walk
In sanity

II

How do we talk
And how do we walk?
Like innocence drowned in chalk
Or just abhorrence painted black?
Why does the mirror shatter?
It is because of beauty,
or a heart blackdusted, like this—
like   this
like   this
like   this
like   this
like   this
like
         this
like
         this
like
         this
like
         this
like  this
        dislike

III

Following your eyes and their dauntless form
I beat the tears out of the moon
In the bog where we used to mourn
For deceased children whose hearts shone bright
But who would weep along to us
Whose sirens live alone in contradiction
For we always talk
In sanity

Call delicate sirens of the working class!
half-*** minimum wage poverty line
subsidy sages hollow of materialism devils,
devoid of darkness internal fire strike rage
and hellion god bowels light flickering shallow men.
The rich men.
The truly poor men living in clouded manors on
Ignorance Avenue.

Delicate sirens not so poor after all,
not so empty or so full.
God is the prayer call
and siren droll
and *** roll-in-sleep afternoon shore-breeze faint of hope
approaching winter-fall showering divinity flowers the same material as Peter's scraggly beard while he coughs his angelic bronchitis wheezes, purifying the western air.
Peter is apostle
his snores are their own gospel
the doves in his dreams
will always be there.

The battle goes on
the bottle goes up
the rattle hollers out
the chatter not without.

Sirens call! Call with short breaths as
the world cyclones through universal woe.

Never been one for dancing
Although by now I'd be quite good
From watching you all these years...

But I could never cut in
It just isn't my style
Or maybe I'm just paralyzed
By this sirens smile

Swim in the deepest part of the ocean,
With waves over head,
A life pieced by water,
A nautical life,
Or aquatic wonders,
There is no fear,
Living in fairytales,
Mithical creatures,
Sorrounding the waters,
Travel sea to sea,
Hopes disguised as flounders,
Surfers all above,
And here come the divers,
Ready to explore,
The kind I belong to,
Sing to them now,
They'll jump off from sails,
To follow the voice,
Deep in the waters,
Desperate souls,
Following as I speak,
Gullible minds,
When told to go under,
This siren awaits,
For sailors to wonder,
To bring them in deep,
In dangerous waters.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

Silenced.
Voice no longer heard,
Heart no longer sings.

Quiet.
She had sang before,
Fear grew deep within.

Magic.
She feels it in symphonies,
Dancing in the streets.

Sacred.
Music is to her,
The earth no longer moves.

Present.
Today she sings alone,
Like a Siren lost in the deep.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros

Sea blue eyes, your tempting touch, parched lips
Kissed once, twice, too many times. As
Sunlight shattered, falling just as raindrops
Stream down swollen cheeks. So bruised, so bitter.

Cupids with their pearls in palms, away from
Us, away from skin stung black and blue.
Words chocked to none, tears clogged by fear
And by you, the siren; and your vile, bittersweet appetite.

Ahoy Captain Courageous!
Cleave not thy ship from soul
Past heaving swell through
Stormy sleet this spellbinding
Siren to seek.

Away thee, Ahab! More than
Whale, this mistress heaps
Thy spirit to take thee
Deep ‘neath sandy shoal.
She sings... clings... captures.

Pour over rocks
Impudent-*** officer
Soon torn and tattered.
You know better than
Fools before thee!

Yea!
Your liquor lapses
Dead man dreaming!
Admirals and angels
Have fallen
Afore thee… oh wise one,

Ha!
Like notches on a barrel
Your soul… she’ll tow on her tale.