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Sia Jane Feb 2014
Condensation left, the window blind
smudging with a bare hand
the panes allow sight, to
the restlessness of the trees
and the blustering leaves
rain forming puddles

Seeing him wave, from across
the street with, board in hand
smiling upwards, glancing
the butterflies kick and twist
"Meadow, Meadow.."
"Shush, I know, he's outside!"

Her little sister was always
part of, the games too
she knew their ma, would
never allow Meadow out
barely allowed, away  from sight,
overprotective eyes

Cady patiently waited, beside
the park gate, as always
as he watched his girl, run
freedom and beauty in her
eyes, a manifestation of
the name she was graced with

Indigo jeans, bleeding
into the rain, as she splashes
through, puddles reflecting
her love, as he smiles with
bright eyes, embracing her
sweet sixteen kisses, connect

Racing through the field, kids
crazy in love, sketching names
into hollowed out trees,
drinking beer, sparking a
doobie, last nights skater
smoking session, come undone

Hours pass, dark skies blacken
street lights lead, a pathway
home, laughter echoes
she's to climb the tree, crawl
in through the window
slightly parted for her return

Great escapes, all well and good,
falling drunk and high, left
her misunderstood, no way
back in home, she calls
"Skylar, can you let me in!"
"Coming now.."

Their kiss lingered, Cady pulled
away, and waved looking back
as his skate board took him
back down the street, home
"You love him Meadow!"
"Skylar, I really do."

© Sia Jane
Eleutheromania - the intense and irresistible desire for freedom.
I had in mind a story of a young girl, battling a cancer, but needing to just know what being sixteen is, and the connection she has with her little sister to help her live some of what her mother keeps her from.
Innocence.
vircapio gale Nov 2012
fem in isms,
i imagine Sapphic eyes:
bad *** advert coruscates elite
fairness sensing slavish blind
in gestate calm affirm
in genders More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors--
O harsh judgement foiled,
as a foil, as unknown truth
foil-doubles in the brow,
abject symmetry to systemize
a fertile lack of sterile barrenness,
i am a mediatrix rend,
nirwaan, hijra wonderment aside
from transemotion's ground swells
demeaning to be understood.
i celebrate and face the same
to be what paperwork tests being
normal being, freely chosen
atom each belonging moves
an asterisk of paths
of mutate art of nature social darwin maze.
i imagine Sapphic eyes,
ginko soft they pile up all cobble
memories themselves concretely
cloistered  fame
spray of salty waves,
macho screams symbol
for dismissal ease
for tearing at an inner unsaid war
with lists offense of proper taste
to what posterity intends
an undulation womblike seeming nourish safety sounds.
i imagine Sapphic eyes
past
debauched
meanderings
where hyster-clarity rejoins its titular
and reliable escapisms curl the lips
of maleness found
here and there  smile  sneer love
i imagine Sapphic eyes
linguistic pirouettes
congest that wisdom nonetheless
the moment passed  on to a
feigning truth in pretty rhyme
ornamenting time with fine  meter  fine
vernacular chimes peter in
to juggle perspectival paradox,
redichotomize the twilight idols,
resolve the conflict like a dawn
Aurora,
i imagine Sapphic eyes
running plastic with Alaskan wolves,
toga floats to snow
to let us see the purest fairness form
a ****** circle,
Hypatia ascends from tenebrous grave,
Impregnable of Eye is pregnant now
with Wollstonecraft revered
in liberation's fount
families held exemplar gaze of
Taylor, ******, Cady,
Anthony resanctified
to vote entitlement's
empathic origins, waxen mold
of nascent categories,
narrow hands spread wide to panoply anew
the manifest evolve in true unknowns
Sia Jane Apr 2014
Cady crushed
Soulful sunbeam
Modelling moonlight
Bright red scream.

Makeshift Marilyn
Winter wanders
Cavalier cowboys
Don't slow down.

****** valleys
Lightening laser
Taunting temptation
She'll be watching.

Dusted dimes
Matriarchy mothers
Electric evolution
At least pretend.

Sleeping sisters
Brutal brothers
Scoring shots
Smells like you.

Snakes stifled
River rapids
Drowning diseases
Love songs sung.

Their souls;
corrupt.

Unarticulated answers;
lost.

Paradise alley;
forgotten.

Ungrazed lips;
innocence.

© Sia Jane
This is very random I do know! Not sure where it came from.
I also want to say I am trying to keep up with all your poems!!
judy smith Jul 2016
THE CROWD at Raf Simons’s Spring 2017 menswear show at Pitti Immagine Uomo in Florence seemed more uptight than usual, yet that’s exactly how Mr. Simons intended it: Scattered among the wound-up throngs of editors, buyers and gate-crashers were 266 secondhand mannequins, some seated stiffly, others frozen into upright positions, all clothed in archival pieces from his 21-year career in fashion. Though the dummies were arresting, the Belgian designer, 48, later downplayed this unconventional look back. “The pieces weren’t chosen with a certain kind of curatorial intention,” said Mr. Simons. “I didn’t want it to look like a typical kind of retrospective.”

Mission accomplished: Between the spooky setting in a cavernous former train station, the wooden mannequins and his decision to show “off calendar” (forgoing his usual Paris Fashion Week time slot), it all felt more like a Robert Gober art show than a museum tribute. Mr. Simons is, after all, still hard at work, his every move watched by industry insiders amid speculation that he may be joining Calvin Klein—after concluding 3½ years as creative director of Christian Dior’s women’s collection, in 2015.

Mr. Simons continued to riff on his signature elegance in his Pitti Uomo menswear show. The cornerstone of the collection was a series of loose, photo-enhanced shirts, knits and jackets created in collaboration with the Robert Mapplethorpe Foundation: voluminous pieces emblazoned with images of Debbie Harry or eroticized flowers by the photographer, who died in 1989.

Much like his designs, our chat with the usually circumspect Mr. Simons reflected a broad array of preoccupations and influences. He was outspoken about tailoring (“so much bad suiting out there”) and his design process (“no system, no rules, no structure”) but also about mobile phones, the African countryside and ’70s dance music.

One of my favorite spots in the world is: Puglia in Italy. There’s a house by the sea I go to, and outside, it’s just a horizon line. It’s that feeling of eternity: It allows you to think. If you put me there, I wouldn’t need love or anything anymore.

Between the country or the city, I prefer: the country. I live in Antwerp, a city that’s kind of like a village.

A place I’d like to visit again is: Kruger National Park in South Africa. It’s mind-blowing how it sits so far away from anything you’ve ever experienced in a city. There were no people, no proof of human life, just animals and animal behavior. It’s survival of the strongest, which is fascinating.

One thing I’ve had forever is: A yellow T-shirt with a black print on it from the movie “The Shining” that goes way back to when I was a teenager.

If I could be granted one wish, it would be: solidarity. That may sound emotional—politically emotional—but with everything that’s happening, I wish everybody would just let each other be in peace.

A current band I love is: The **. At first they seemed weird but they overwhelm me—massively—all the time with their intelligence. They may be the group that’s had the most impact on me in the last five years.

An old album I still listen to is: Kraftwerk’s “The Man-Machine” [1978]. My 1998 show was called “Kraftwerk” because I had four boys in red shirts in it who looked like replicas of the band members.

If I could tell my 20-year-old self one thing, it would be: grab and protect love when you find it. Cherish it, focus on it, concentrate on it.

My dream client would be: anyone, really. When I design, I am thinking about a lot of people, not just one. It’s more about connecting to a certain kind of generation or a certain kind of person that will connect to what we do.

I always wear: Adidas Stan Smiths. I have had periods where I only wore Stan Smiths, maybe from age 15 until I was 25.

The place that most inspires me is:everywhere. Some people have to go for a swim or have a holiday to be inspired, but for me, it’s there when I walk out the door.

My favorite movie directors are: Stanley Kubrick, Todd Haynes and Alfred Hitchcock.Kubrick’s movies are so visually striking, especially “2001: A Space Odyssey” and “Eyes Wide Shut.”

I collect: art. I started collecting more than 15 years ago. Cady Noland, Richard Prince,Cindy Sherman, Isa Genzken, Rosemarie Trockel, Charlie Ray, Robert Gober are artists that have made a huge impact on me on all levels, emotionally, conceptually, visually.

The hardest part of a man’s wardrobe to get right is: the tie and suit. [There is] so much bad suiting out there in terms of fit, style and fabric. So, when I design, I don’t start with fit or fabric, but with meaning. The phrase “suit and tie” has a special place in our vocabulary.

One of my favorite books is: The Christiane F. book [“Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F.”—about a teenage ****** addict]. The movie [1981] was an amazing interpretation, but the book is more striking.

I feel most proud about: simple things like being able to handle love and friendship and family. Or taking care of my dog. Of course, I do also feel proud of what I do.

I am a big fan of: furniture design, especially French or Swiss designers such as Jean Royère, Pierre Jeanneret and Jean Prouvé as well as Japanese-American designer George Nakashima. I love how beautifully designed furniture sits in history—it’s unpretentious.

The one thing I always travel with is: my sweatshirt from Vier, a skateshop in Antwerp. “Vier” is the Dutch word for four. I always take it on flights because I refuse to put on the pajamas they give to you.

I wish I could always be with: my dog, Luca, a Beauceron, who behaves like everything except a dog—more like a cat or a frog. She’s still a baby.

The one thing I wish didn’t exist is: mobile phones. I am old enough to remember how it was before them. There was something much more beautiful about not having one. We communicated in such a different way with each other.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-2016 | www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
keki Oct 2010
trick.
or may i ask treat.
hovering in  the full moons twilight light
looking for a cady thirst that thrives every ones mind.
But some one searches the night to get a scare
out of you
may i wish you a happy halloween

black cats lurk in and out of the foggy mist that surrounds the chilly floor
ghost haunt the living giving a chilly rattle up your spine
turn around no ones there and continue with your trick or treating for the night.
wolfs prey on flesh to savior their hunger for the next year or so till they rise again.
The skelton bones rise once again make thier bones shake and shiver as they were a musical instroment
clock stricks 12 and all the mysteriors monster hide in the shawdows till next halloween day.
Why
Why
What did I do?
I love you.
You love them.
She loves you.
At least....

She says she does.
You two seem perfect.
A cady coated happy ending.
Thats what it seems.
What about me?
Where's my love?

Him?
He loves me?
Do I love him?
I don't think so.
He's not easy to love.
Not many good qualities.
No special abilities.
Why should I get him?
He also loves another.

Why are we together?
Should I end it?
Why?
Can't I choose?
Don't I deserve happiness?
Don't I?

Why not?
Did I do something?
Are you more deserving?
Do you even love her?
I know you love another.

I know.
She doesn't.
I do.
What should I do?
Should I tell her?
Why does the thought,
Break my heart?

Why do you break my
lonely heart?
Am I broken?
Can I be fixed?
What's wrong?
Why?

Why does she chase you?
We both know we can't have you.
Why try?
Because we feel.
More than ever before.
At least that's how it is for me.

For her.
I think it's an obsession.
A race.
Who gets him?
Her.
That's what she thinks.
That's what she says.
She mocks me.
She hates me.
She loves me?

As a friend, she says.
But really?
Is that true?
No.
She hates me.
More than I hate myself
for loving him
more than I should.
Why?

That's my question.
Why?
Because everyone understands.
Not me.
I ask why.
Because I wish to know.
To be the one who
truly knows
who understands it all.

Knows.
Why?
How?
When?
Where?
Here.
That's where.
How?
I do not know yet.
When?
Now!
Always!
Forever I will ask
my questions.
Will haunt you.
Forever.
Why?

Because I wish them to.
Because I say so.
Me.
My decision.
Mine.
No one else's.
No one.
Just me.
Why?

I need them to.
So I will be remembered.
Not as a nothing.
A normal girl.
But that's not me.
I am the girl with questions.
Always questioning.
Always.
Forever.
Very long sorry I was journaling through poetry.
mia Aug 2013
Your timid words
Escaped your plump lips
"I love you, Cady"
You were desperate for a kiss

I have these guys
Falling for my love
But when you finally get it
You send it off like a dove

You took those words
Which escaped my pumping heart
"I love you too"
You threw them away
Like a childs art
Charles Sturies Oct 2018
Designs like the cubists do
Or the calculus involved in Andy Warhol's
Campbell's tomato soup can
You my new imaginary lover, Cady C
can slip down the ladder of one art
Work to another
Letting your nice skirt
And nice feminine deodorant
Smell in the cool breezes of summer
Glancing at your female
Wristwatch , blowing me a cart
Of kisses beside the hallucination
Of Judy Garland as Dorothy in the
Wizard of Oz movies on a tree swing
And land with dark legs
On the planet earth.
Ovrtey
They're see later men
*** Calleome curly.
Charles Sturies Oct 2018
Morning side heights was never like this
To say good morning in the afternoon like
Odd ***** doesn't become me as I greet
You on the morning-side,
The flip side
So you can smell the flowers in the
Early morning dew.
Open your eyes to get a style out
And smell, the morning coffee brewing-
Be you old-time movie starlets in
Randolph Scott movies like Mala Powers
And Dorothy Malone or my favorite love
Drip on a love trip flipping for you
Cady K one or two.
It'd be so cool
If we were in the old west parts that
Were peaceful.
Betrayed by our evil lords
invaded by foreign hordes
in Cady Lake neighborhood.
We did best that we could.
The gun safes all unlocked.
Shotgun and whiskey cocked.
Armed to the teeth we wait
to finally learn our fate.
WWFree

— The End —