poetry

myth (a poem)

i listen to my
heartbeat;
i pretend it’s all
i need

this warm rush inside
my blood
from all i could not
yet see

and the sharp silence
of truth
from somewhere deep in
that sea

that houses who i
am, where
i’ve gone, who i want
to be

but i know the truth
inside:
i never really
knew me

books

SURPRISE!! (new book of poetry)

Hello, my dear readers!

It is very nice to write to you on this bright Wednesday morning at home. In my little neck of the woods I am busy studying for pilot exams and avoiding some bad storms along the way. But how are you guys doing? Please keep me updated, as I love hearing your stories!

A few months, I mentioned that I was working on a, well, a surprise! And I’ve finally finished it, so without further ado…

I’ve written a book of poetry!

burned
Thanks to Miss Givenchy for lending a hand (literally her hand) on this cover!!! ❤

Lose yourself in the imagination, in the world of your dreams… But remember to consider what your reality really is along the way…

This poetry collection is split into five parts: A-Z, 7 Deadly Sins, 7 Heavenly Virtues, College Class Confessions, and Late Night Candle Side. Throughout the collection you will find emotion, question, and reason–and your presence is required to discover more.

Yes, that’s right! I compiled about sixty of my favorite poems I’ve written so far and threw them into a book called burned into a realist. Katie George, a poet? Yes, I am surprised too. As someone who writes primarily fiction, poetry isn’t normally my schtick. However, it was this very blog that introduced me to poetry and how universally, beautifully complex it is for its readers! Over the past year I’ve shared my poems on this blog, and I thought, “Why not put them in a book?”

So that’s what I did!

I’ve split the book into five parts, based on five chapters of poetry: a-z, 7 deadly sins, 7 heavenly virtues, college class confessions, and late night candle side. Each section has a different theme. For example, a-z contains the poems I wrote for a challenge in September, in which each poem starts with a different letter.

Anyway, I know this is not much, but I did think it would be cool to have my poems all in one place. For those of you who’ve all ready read them, well, you’ll be surprised to see I’ve added a bunch of free clipart to the poems to spice things up a bit. The one snag is that the book is only in paperback form. While I spent hours developing an eBook version of “burned into a realist,” I found it nearly impossible to format the clipart with the poetry in an appealing way. So for now it’s only available from Amazon in paperback form.

Well, guys, thank you so much for putting up with me through this journey! If you are interested in purchasing a copy, you can purchase it here! And if you don’t want to, my poems are available for free all throughout this blog, so that’s another way to read what I’m producing (if you are interested!).

❤ Much love to all, and I will be posting on Friday… And instead of poetry or nonsense about me, we’re going back to our roots… AKA writing tips! ❤

Thank you guys so much, and until next time,

-Katie Kay

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poetry

on the dark side (a poem)

on the dark side
of the cold moon
i stand alone
waiting for you

drowned in

your dark shadow,
lost memories,
as your light fades
over centuries


AN EXPLANATION.

While I wish I could provide a definite explanation for this poem, my dear readers, the truth is that I am unsure the true meaning. I always enjoy decoding symbolism behind everything, but this is a poem borne from my stream of consciousness.

Who is the narrator, and why is he or she in the darkness? What kind of cosmic darkness hangs above the narrator’s head? And why is the narrator waiting? Why is the narrator terrorized by the memories he or she experiences from the past (“the light”) that is fading?

I wish I could tell you. Maybe you can tell me.

Stay tuned for Monday’s post! And once again thank you for joining me on this journey. 2020 is still fully ahead of us, so let’s live with both kindness and question of the world around us.

Until next time,

-Katie Kay

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poetry

regret (a poem)

wallow in your grief,
swallow your regret.
dig your nails into my skin,
your words claws in my ribs.
i didn’t ask for this, the answer
a gunshot through my head.

yet you haunt me at night, dear Regret;
you smile at me with scarlet eyes,
your lips pale and pink, teeth starched
white and oily, waiting for me.
you wait to pull the skin from my bones,
and the merriment from my blood.

i didn’t ask for you; i never wanted you.
but instead of sweet wishes and dreams,
curlicues and unicorns and glitter,
you came to my doorstep, holding
a letter, addressed to me from you:
Katie, I got you, when nobody else does.


AN EXPLANATION.

Oh, my dear readers, just know you are not a regret I have!

We all have certain things we regret, whether that be a choice, relationship, you name it. Though I’d like to pretend regrets don’t bother me, deep down they do. So I have a feeling they probably affect you too.

So while it’s fun to write poems about them, it’s not very fun to admit that you do have regrets. But that is why I encourage you (and me too, to be honest) that we cannot change the past, and that we have the beauty to change our trajectory in the present moment. We can do what we need to do to shape the world the way we want, and that’s the power of our choice. Of course, we may not be able to get exactly what we want, but sometimes it’s more about the attempt than the result.


THANK YOU, MY DEAR READERS!

Thank you guys for joining me today. I know I have not published anything in a while, so I just wanted to thank you guys for coming back to this blog after a few weeks of inactivity. This blog is definitely not one of my regrets. ❤

That’s all from me for now. It’s good to be back!

Until next time,

-Katie Kay.

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Sunset over Goleta, California. 

 

poetry

ULCER (a poem)

the stabbing pain
in my gut stems
from the sins i’ve
swallowed lately.

at first it was
a slight discomfort,
then it became a fist
lodged inside me,

and now the chemicals
burn and degrade
my choices down
into sparks.

but the truth
remains: the pain
i’ve got is here,
rotting my core,

and i need medicine,
but sometimes
medicine isn’t
the only cure.