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Kate Copeland Jun 2019
The leaves whisper
an ocean in my ears
The drops dripping
rhythm in my vessels
The damp soil leaves
a fresh scent in my toes
These salty tears
an impossible future 
in my opinion.
Kate Copeland Jun 2019
As long as I stop thinking,
Nature stays with me and
Future stays away.
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
Look at yourself she abhors
the mirror as big as she is
not hiding truth like she does,
her friends do, her mother does
about weight and skin and age
Women issues in the way, again
just look at myself she ponders
it itches and stinks and makes
my face go red, my pores and legs
not tighter as assured, as seen
in the advert with ladies her age
told by mum that I'd be grateful at 60
The cream on her legs makes 'em look
more crumpled while all seems tired
belly and ******* under gravity
yet she keeps on applying, better
believe than sorry, better shield
then it'll work in the end, after
all her mother told her so
Kate Copeland Sep 2019
A fascinating smile,
he starts
Reaching out while 
she reaches back glad for
an opportunity to
attention which love as well
Sun flares up
while the red leaves fall 
last Summery days
The park people have gone 
weary not him
not her
he talks to
her dog to start somewhere
building starts to
grow leading to what she
inside well knows
the wind sounds so nice
she's afraid
not in front of crowds 
but a he
so close is too near
not knowing what
happens when they'll do
what he wants
how she wants it too
He lets her
alights on eyes for now
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
She has the capacity to fully
enjoy and engage
to go to work hangovered
sniff and stay with it.
She has the capacity to fully
admit and appreciate
the match he is
sup and stay with him.

She knows it's all
temporary, him in her house
her with her contract,

a bike ride along the river,
an old car still steering
She knows it's all

about being inventive
a bright philosophy
She knows it all
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
I like the grass under my feet
my latest gray strands
my perpetual doubts
I like to travel by train
my suitcase pocket-sized
my world full-out
I'd like to finish my book
get my head straight
and grow up.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
the desert and the sun
the wind and the red earth
my two dogs and me
the best
Saturday and Sunday
forever and ever
don't change and
don't stay.
Kate Copeland Dec 2019
Shells of desire
Wings of trust
Eyes in wind
Grains of sand
She has no fear
feels the love in 
different layers
He wants fire men to
be able to do their job 
instead of traffic jams
She wants people to
be at the beach without
fear of armed response
He does not want to
sit on his mam's couch 
and work a 9-to-5 feeling
possessed by banks too
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
All of a sudden she turns
why you're looking at my legs
all the time?
I didn't know what to say
Everyone looking
Stealthy laughs and
silence and the real reason
was just so lame.
I was just wondering
How can anyone drink
so much orange juice
all the time
and stay so skinny and free?
Kate Copeland Sep 2019
I only hope you don't think
I'm girlish or too new
romantic or overly present
or frightfully temperamentful

So I just beware a distance
as from friends as spirits
arising in an own world
without the time anymore

I only just wanted some
one kind and compassionate
and listening without consoling
and frightfully close

I find it difficult too
Kate Copeland Jul 2019
The city flickers in the valley
while they sit on the hill 
where the Akrópolis
He sees the lights in her hair 
finds her really truly
captivated from that moment
onwards connected
She sees him in a different light
lays her tears in his hands
Too much beauty
fears too salty
She spills wine on her dress
He takes her back to the hotel
It is all alright and
It will be for a very long time.
Kate Copeland Oct 2019
a grey afternoon and just now
it starts to rain, big drops
in small pools on her terrace
looking outside - another
glass in her hand
the house gets dark
last light through the living
a house already silent
he's gone, big drops
on the roof beating a drum
beating her dead heart
she sits down, suddenly
dead-tired but too afraid to
lie on their bed, big drops
against those windowpanes
a year of loss
has started
a lifetime of love
has ended
a man has cut her landline
and she cannot believe
there will ever be
a rising of another sun
a blowing out the clouds
another good morning beautiful
another - looking outside
all the water in the world will
not free the lights in the lake
this is how she will remember
losing, forever
Kate Copeland Jan 2020
you called me to explain
you weren't sure you
wanted to talk through
still I knew enduringly well
you shouldn't stand a change
not yet, not now, or
just not
without a kiss and a house
without some things worth
remembering together for a longer  
time, for which you drew closer
yet I just relentlessly estranged
away, for which you given't me
that much space as we needed
It is never what you want
so much to dream about,
better be devastatingly excellent
yet I knew it was the one about
the man I shouldn't have dreamt 
about the example I set years
before then, so it became indeed
confounding to make this decision
myself, unexpected and curiously
misleading to have taken anything
you love away from you whilst 
being part of your own decision,
for which
I’ll never love you as much as I loved you 
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
gone West  
went South
East street
Northern line
Kate Copeland Jul 2019
Listening to this singer singing
about a rubber band for the soul
I wish I would have thought of
that, word-wise and soul-wise
Do they really make those? I'm so
irresistibly attracted to soreness to
happiness with heartbreak with
no brakes but I do have a ribbon
though suffice to keep my
curls from messing up
Kate Copeland Feb 2020
Would you mind at
all that much to live
with me, he asked her
All hope and cool
while walking their
city river running right
on the square where
her father had his shop
First spring light, the sun
tries a green blushing
Could it be that she
completely missaw what
embraced a home?
A silence so sensefully
inclusive, momentously
marked by this choice
so serious and whole hearted
she could not say anything
but yes. Justified her soul
that moment, that square
That made her lose sight
of her father's protection
in view of herself never
capable to choose
boundaries nor homes.
Kate Copeland Feb 2019
Yesterday when you
told me he
asked about me
Last year it was
I broke down
Just did and you saw it
my face froze
as my heart
kept on beating.
The rest of the evening
and the first part of the morning lost
while I walked and walked
the streets but no memory lane per se
but this was our route
and it is still mine
all mine mine mine
my streets my river my city
again but it is not about you
anymore you and me
anymore but it is about knowing
I won't find that body that humour
that sense of spending a Saturday morning
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
When you ask to many questions
you're odd and difficult
and difficult is different from
the rest of the class so you better

start drawing or do maths
Since that's what
your report tells you to be.

So do what you want to be
though it may take a bit
Class forms the kids
but the kids found class
Kate Copeland Jul 2019
A shawl wrapped around
not necessarily beauty or fashion
but more as way of protection
an umbrella when no rain
a coat when no cold
The safest accessory when no one
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
how weird he said
you don't eat
anything outside the menu
anything from the Chinese super
nor an odd porky pub meal
while away he said
you eat
anything off the street
anything from a cage at sea
or an odd shrimp ceviche
weird one he said
I love you he said
Kate Copeland Dec 2018
Such happiness
I felt with you
and music and films and
just laughing there

Such peace
I felt in the house
and the river and
just lying there

What I thought at least
Until money kicks in
Or envy and
freedom an issue
Kate Copeland Oct 2019
[Freely translated after ''In de herfst'' - Vasalis]

Hollow, empty of desire
and while the yellowish amber trees,
the green stony trunks...
the light hovers silently over the leaves.

My heart far too open

too oftly captured by this light

floating thinly with the clouds...

and dreaming hurtfully, wretchedly
to get away from me

and while really so despairingly.
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
Burning my daylight
on being social
Getting drunk only occasionally
now and a smoke on the side
Not figuring my things out
Not starring in admin or taxes
But it isn't true I am letting life
passing by I think
grabbing the same amount of
opportunities as the threats
passing by I say
So in the end I'm fine doing
my funky job, my walks with
the dog, my looking for friends
Not loving it but it keeps me
on the street and I am happy
slipping by I imagine
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
I always leave the door open
the balcony my class room a fitting
room i don't know
to avoid claustration
an encirclement wherefore you feel
left out
no sounds no people no traffic no books
no songs no friends no barks no lights
I defer going to bed too.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
shells in my left pocket
train ticket in my right
it takes a lot of
travelling to feel part of
the world again
Kate Copeland Jul 2019
Many changes she's made
But the change of life
Powerless to complete
Fear of losing rule of life
Vulnerable while over-conscience
The wrong autograph brings confusion
The wrong side of the street disorder
A vertigo brings her to the minibar

A tension she cannot explain
Neither the way of non-commitment
She cannot sleep that long or deep,
she cannot be careless about her presence or
her friends', she cannot choose the movie or a seat
A need to pretend and run
While all the time she knows she wants protection
Which all the time she thinks she'll find in the flight.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
a week comes, goes
at two precisely
the door strikes
no text message or call
just arrives and knocks
she smiles at the daffs
music to see him
she gives him a kiss
surprises herself
Kate Copeland Feb 2020
In the gloomy ink of an autumn afternoon
she carries back, her youth - lately travels
To feel       freedom
To free from
what she won't want to know
To everlast
where she will want to go
Keep going my love
To wish,        to search
Her wish,     her search
Riven by past
Consumed by curious
Future travels as the
cartography of her new book
the subtle wave of pages
the subtle wave of weeds
she looks up, discovers the
deep deep blue above
deep darker blue below
Graced by beauty
A vast landscape of coral
without dividing, the same
depth above as beneath
To feel           freedom
To free buoyancy
what she wants to show
In the shiny part of the summer afternoon
she thinks forward, still young - forever travels
Kate Copeland Jul 2019
I liked life a lot
better when it held
more promises
places where you feel
At least the leaves breeze
the wind sounds like the sea
I can still fleet anywise
never naturally happy
with silence and belonging
Kate Copeland Jun 2019
To look at these two together
at the beer garden
table. She's dressed up, he in shorts,
the disappointment. She says I don't think
I'm going to eat. He orders pizza. She looks away.
Kate Copeland Nov 2019
Sometimes a brightness
Towards the sea
When the sand shifts
Towards a pace

It's her there
It's them near
A current inside
Happyless drifts
Reflecting her face
Brushing her colours

Fear alone is a good thing

Every night he
breaks her heart
Every day she
Be in life
Benumbed and receptive


Why be afraid
when there are that
many invitations
She told him
Her favourite music
His place in her world


She knows him
She hates him
Seeing the scared part
in herself
Wishing the self-betrayal
in her past

A peace so desirable
A love so inexplicable
A safeness as freedom
A starfull night.
Kate Copeland Oct 2019
It seems so many things
have turned fifty this year
Woodstock, me, Abbey Road too
On my road trip I met
a beautiful guy who stayed
to see Janis and Jimi
best concert ever, he said
best life to compose yourself,
he knew and this is just
the people I want to
know, talk, live with too
the people I want in
my world and my memories
back to concerts with friends
to my parent's place and
my nan's radio mornings with
creamy strawberries; books, plays too
in mind and in reach
Back home is where I
belong to be.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
My first words
My first sip of coffee
My first real kiss
My first real smoke
My first divorce
My first poem
Kate Copeland Dec 2019
She sits on the bench closest
to the sand; able eyes,
smart soul. Meek, careful,
honest maybe. Talking; once
a psychologist,

How do you loose
your wife, your life, I ask.

Irises as blue as her
goodwill dress, arranged
properly over the wooden
boards where legs crossed

a fellow rifle bird
about the weather.
up some whiskey the skater
brings along because of his
birthday and guardians. It is
good to travel, she says. It is
time for beach now
next month an island. 

It doesn't rain as much
Lady Di and Mother Theresa
were good women.

I'm not really afraid
of you.

Irises bluer because of her
tears. The moment I let her
go, I retired. She showed me.
My wife, my life.

I saw someone at home
behind those eyes.
I saw someone go.
Kate Copeland Aug 2019
with the Deborah Harry face
with tiger heels and a bright coat
who's born in the city
who's leaving her diet
that loves to dance in her room
that digs to read in a park
Bless all girls, bless all
I turned into a positive day
Nicer to look that way
Start counting...
Kate Copeland Apr 2019
Don't really care
for your car
Or the blue sail
on your boat
I just wish for one 
with a nice winter coat
dark navy blue sky
dark grey clouds eyes
Kate Copeland Feb 2020
And I do know that place,
only once, Puerto Angel,
and every new memory
constructs itself around
that shore, learning to
read the swifwater, to
my waves being safe,
my extant outside time -
timeless quality is what
I always seem to need
and find in this haven.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
All in all it was not
the smartest thing to do
this expensive house
she thought while standing at the bridge
looking at it
but what to do when you're that age
and scarily in love
with a man who covers all ranges between
sweet and stone
adult life moves you
forward imperceptibly
why did she ever ignore her heart
her friends
and her father
saying remember to tell 'em you are not
steadfast but just self-willed.
Kate Copeland Dec 2019
For 1,75$ a fast line
For 1,25$ lots of stops
so - why not converse.

How come you're so tall?
Why you're on a bus?

He is my friend, you know.

It is a warm day today.
You want a soda?
Or some salami?

I love your coat-your bag-
your smile. I'm from México.

We had free Christmas dinner 
in a church with Golden arches 
coupons as a bonus.

Completely unruly,
high on cake and life is good
this time.

The funny girl of the group is
copying accents as if it were
a performance. 

Full of joy, merry, 
come and listen to her act 
some time.

Never lose your height, you hear.

This state gives you space to think
and opportunities to dream.
This state shows palm trees up the sky
and harvests most golden apples of all.

some travellers live in a car 
on a fixed salary. 
some travellers have no sugar 
or fast line fares.

When you're poor,
you start hoarding stuff.

The ocean crashes
The desert colours
The gates are closing

Murals on walls

Kind words can warm 
the winter months
Unspoken rules can stay
unquestioned fragments

In buses a world unfolds
so why not converse.
Kate Copeland Mar 2019
Maybe one day I catch
a flight to México to
see the Monarch butterflies
migrate and learn
how to wave through a storm.
Kate Copeland Jun 2019
Remember going to
the pool and your hair
all damp and the smell
of the water?
Some things still unclear
cos the swimming teacher
made me do backstrokes
Don't like that
I'm perfectly fine
a butterfly in waves
Kate Copeland Feb 2020
I actually do
like to wipe the
kitchen, eat a whole
load of crackers,
waist a sound
morning on YouTube
and my whole eve on
box sets, dress up in
a satin skirt, wear
my gold, miss the bus
to talk to you.

The only thing I need
to have ... like a routine
is dancing every day
and to love again.
Kate Copeland Jun 2019
a day at the time
but time flies
and lost in moments
of desolate loneliness
not the beautiful aloneness
that makes one want to
listen to sad songs
and just cat-curl in bed
but the one that hurts
that makes the songs
just mordacious
that makes the bed
just empty
Kate Copeland Jan 2020
It's NYE and I don't care
where we're going
as long as
I don't need to read
a menu
a sunset
Is what I need
a nother glass verily
a band rocking on
Make me happy
buy me ice cream
we've missed the eve
In the end
the clouds like a blanket
that other look in your eyes 
A new decade coming on.
Year of yes.
Together or no.
Kate Copeland Jan 2020
To hold on to those answers
that much
might mean
you embrace your differences
too much
in vain?
To hold on to these shoes
so much
might be
you walk your directions
too much
no avail!
To look at yourself
over & over
To listen to yourself
on & on
It became crystalclear
The things I did
not see
not hear             at first
It becomes unclouded
The things I do
need to
Left with your plain history
Build my cherished future
Kate Copeland Feb 2020
Mustering my army of coats
without knowing why this tower
why nan and uncles were always on
about a proper robe, the sturdy winter
one, a cascading summer one.

One for every fall in order that
when you parade, you still see the
seasons, you feel no shivers.
So we started with costly coats
though I marched for fleas or thrifts

Doing life the other way around
for richer then poor, cast-offs
outside the high street as new life
to your older self - my boundless
battle of beauty and staying warm
Kate Copeland Jun 2019
She sees him immediately
She always does
He does too by the way
They're still connected
For ever
And anyway
She grabs her phone
She pretends
He hates her for that
For ever
And always
Kate Copeland Sep 2019
you remember you were in love

dreaming distant hazy state
a scent of home yet not being
able to eat a thing

it was like that

completely absorbing tangly state
sharing a home yet not being
able to fully devote

but the memory feels nice
the love was real and
is why the songs are for you
the flowers and peaceful breathing

a mind blown tunnel vision
a curl up on the couch

Kate Copeland Aug 2019
On Spring street where one
sees the dunes
from the kitchen windows  
her first place in a long time
small, old, life stories
with new bathroom fittings
took time to prettify
yellow wardrobe, blue settee
and she remembers sitting
on the Berber rug looking
around, thinking
renting out is nice.
Kate Copeland Jan 2019
You're dead for 22 years
and I miss you still
differently now
At first you were in a closer circle
to me and once even
I thought you were that dove
watching me going to work
that morning
good to know that I've got someone
to watch over me although
I don't particularly like doves
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