Time

Sometimes, I will randomly write whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's complete gibberish, other times it works. When it works....I call these "2 minute poems". 

Lost on a winding road

With a castle in the sky

The moat has long run dry

And the war has long since been won

The clouds drift lazily past

As I drudge on and on

Toward the earths end

Toward you

I’d travel till forever

To get to where you are

To come home to your heart

To your soul

The wind whips past

The rain pours down

The days travel on

And I toward you

Skies go by

From day into night

From today into tomorrow

As time ticks past

I’d travel till the ends of the world

To meet where you are

To come home to your eyes

To your smile

Forever never seems

Like quite long enough

The dreams of the immortals

Like when we were young

Reverse the hands of time

Turning back the clock

Recapturing our youth

Of days gone by

At the edge of the world

To the edge of tomorrows

I’ve come home to your touch

To your love

c-2012 KMC

Muse

Reverie's smile
And lasting gaze
Forever intertwined
Lifetime beyond lifetime

Truth filled words
Angelic eternal youth
With heated passion
And saving grace

Haloed heart
In a clear dawn sky
In your eyes
Finding true meaning
And purpose

Finding inspiration
Finding affirmation
In the perfection
Of your voice
Of your words
Of your spirit

And in your soul.


2012 KMC

Never

Never look back
Never surrender
Never give up
Never lose hope

Never look a gift horse in the mouth
Never lose sight of your goals
Never forget where you come from
Never forget "the little people"

Never disobey a direct order
Never forget who your real friends are
Never forget to pack clean underwear
Never argue with an absolute idiot. It will only be a waste of time, and a waste of breath.

Never forget to eat your veggies
Never neglect your teeth
Never lose your cool if you can help it
Never forget to love yourself and those you love.

Never forget Me.

2012 KMC

Remarkable - Poem #3

You'll never see me coming,
You may think that you know,
Exactly what I'm capable of,
But you ain't seen nothing yet.

I am a Goddess.

You look, and you watch,
You think you're so dammed observant,
And that you know all that you need to,
But watch me rise and soar.

I am an Angel.

High above this world,
Above the treetops,
I'll take you with me,
Into our wildest dreams and fantasies.

I am Unbelievable.

We both have desires,
Lofty, sky high goals.
But we can achieve anything,
If we only let ourselves.

We are unstoppable.

I'm ready to take the leap.
Are you?
Ready?
One, two, three....jump.


2012 - KMC

Corrine - Unfinished

Did ye hear me Corrine?" he asked her "I've asked ye to marry me."
Of course she'd heard him. With her eyes closed she swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She could smell the ocean air in her nostrils, the faint smell of lavender from her hair, and the whiskey on his breath.
"Cor...Corrine - are ye gonna leave me in wait for a lifetime or are ye gonna answer me?" he asked impatiently with his boyish grin she could hear in his voice.
"No Patrick."
"No? That be yer answer then? No?" he said in a surprised tone
She smiled opening her eyes "No Patrick. I'm not going to make you wait for a lifetime for yer answer. My answer is yes. I will marry you."
The boyish impish grin returned. "I love ye ye know that right?" he winked at her
"Yes Patrick." she smiled
"I'm afraid yer Da's going to be none too pleased though." he added
"Well unless yer planning on marrin me Da...I'd say he doesn't have much to say." Corrine replied
"Nah! I couldn't handle being married to yer Da."
"Too old?"
He sat down in the sand beside her and leaned in staring into her pale blue eyes. His eyes twinkled partially with the same mischief they always did, partially with the whiskey he had imbibed. "Nahh...too whiskery." he smiled kissing her softly "Cmon then. we probably should go tell yer Da."
"I don't think that's a conversation ye should be havin when yer three sheets to the wind Patrick Finnegan. He might be more amiable to yer proposal and intentions if yer breath isn't flammable when ye do so." she suggested.
Patrick went to stand and wobbled unsteadily on his feet.
"Aye, perhaps yer right." he giggled "I think I'm drunk."
"Nah, yer as sober as a priest on Sunday." Corrine teased slipping her arm around his waist and led him to the car.

The wind that howls

This was just a random experimental writing I wrote some time ago. It is complete. For now.
~K

~~~

I'm standing in the living room of a small, one roomed log cabin. It's walls are rounded with large wood knots in them. The wood is smooth, cool to the touch and well worn. The lighting is dark, with the exception of a decent fire going in the fireplace, there are no lights. Across the room I can make out the outline of a bed against the wall, with what appears to be a red quilt covering it. At first because it's so dark in the room, I think perhaps there are no windows. However as I turn around to face the door, I realize there are two small windows on either side. They're laden with snow, so it is difficult to see out and only adds to the darkness of the interior.

There is a massive snowstorm going on outside, and the wind is whipping and wailing around the exterior of the cabin. I reach for the door nob which is freezing under my grasp and open the door. I'm expecting someone. I stick my head out into the storm; and even though it is getting close to dark; the snow is blinding. The wailing wind plays a morose tune as it howls. I am concerned, the person I am waiting for has not yet arrived. And they should have...a while ago.

I manage to get the door shut but not without a fight. I'm pushing hard against the door...the wind pushing back just as forcefully. I hear it latch, the lock catches and I relax leaning against the door.

I sit in the dark on the couch by the fire now...warming myself. I hold a mug in my hand, tracing the lip of the mug with lazy circles with my fingertip. I am completely lost in the fire. It crackles, pops and sizzles and I am mesmerized by the flames dance. I slowly move the mug ascloseasthis to my lips but do not drink, my breath causes a ripple effect on the liquid. I can see my breath or perhaps it is the steam from my drink as I break from my reverie.

I sigh heavily. I furrow my brow. 'He should be here by now' I think to myself. Until that moment, I'm unaware that it is a "he" that I've been expecting. Why isn't he here yet? Is he lost in the snow? I grow even more concerned, or more so than I already am. I sigh again.

I'm fidgeting now. Tapping my foot, spinning my ring and chewing on the inside of my cheek. I lean back on the couch momentarily and twirl my hair in my fingertips as the flame does it's seductive dance again trying to captivate my attention. It doesn't work. I stand up once more and attempt to look out the window. It is dark as pitch out now, and yet I think I see movement. My pulse quickens. Is he here? Finally?

I move to the door quickly and open it. A dark shadow; only lit by the fire from behind me; darkens my doorstep.

His back is to the door. The collar of his jacket is up to give him some protection from the elements. He is covered in snow. His dark, thick wool coat is white with snow. The wind blows wildly continuing it's tune of morose, mournful moans. A whole and whistle follow adding their input to the durge-like sound.

Finally he turns around to face me. The snow in his hair begins to melt, making his hair wet, it drips down his face as he smiles at me. Snow blows into the cabin from outside. I am captivated by his smile. And I; like the snow that has gotten too close to the flame; melt.

"City"

Work in progress...

~K

~~~

I walked the streets of the city. The night was cold, the wind brisk and the air was crisp and clean. I could see my breath in the air heating the area around my head as I walked. I felt my boots crunch down on the snowy sidewalk as I trudged on.


Pulling the collar up and my headphones off from around my neck I pressed play. The sounds of Sammy Hagar and Eddie Van Halen rang in my ears. "Right Now" was all that seemed to matter to them and that was the resounding enforcement they tried to instil on me. But I didn't believe them, for all their persuasion I wasn't swayed. Great song though. I had always looked to the future. I had my sights set forward, not in the past or the current. "Ever the day dreamer" my Mother had always said "Big dreams. You'll go far." I didn't feel like I'd gone anywhere though. Not really, not after today's events.


I heard laughter; my eyes darted up from the ground as a couple stumbled out of the upscale nightclub onto the sidewalk. She was laughing one of those annoying laughs...fake and not attractive. Facially of course, she could launch a thousand ships. She could be a trophy wife to someone, but that was about it.


I trudged on to my final destination. Malley's Pub. It was actually "O'Malley's Pub" but the "O" had been burnt out for as long as I'd been going to the shithole and no one had bothered to fix it. The bar was a run down near condemned joint; and was owned by some Pakistani who looked no more Irish than I did. But that's the way things are I guess. The world was full of false illusions. Fake fronts. No one was ever what he or she seemed.... including me. I walked inside, the familial stench of cigarette smoke, sweat, booze and piss greeted my nostrils.


"Evening..." Aamir greeted me with a nod pouring me a shot into a dirty shot glass.


I nodded in kind and picked up the shot off the bar. I wasn't in the mood for exchanging pleasantries. I wasn't there for tea after all. I wandered back to my normal spot, passing by Trixie the 65 year old prostitute who wore too much make up, not enough clothing and sagged in all the places you'd expect an over used whore to sag.
I passed by Pete who as an ex cop and Vietnam vet who was sprawled out in his usual manner on his table, cigarette in full burn, glass of whiskey in his grasp and drool on the table. That was the only way I knew he was still alive, that and the occasional ground rumbling snore and gaseous stench that would emit from him.

I sat in the corner and started up at the 1970's tv set hanging precariously that faced me. It was old, probably should have been thrown out long ago and yet still ran. Aside from the occasional flip that required a sharp, hard slam to the side of the box...it worked fine for what it was used for.


I lit a cigarette. I didn't usually smoke, only when I was stressed, pissed off or really drunk. Which seemed a lot lately...and tonight I definitely fell under one of those categories. I exhaled the smoke, closing my eyes for a moment and tried to shake the day's events from my minds eye. It didn't work. I didn't expect it to. Not really. But it sure would have been nice.


"Hey Sugar..." Trixie finally noticed me sitting in the corner "Looking for a date?" she 'teased' sloppily circling her tongue around her well-smeared lipstick lips.


More repulsed than anything, I shook my head and politely declined as I always did when she began her nightly routine and drew my gaze back to the television set that was now flipping incessantly. I sighed, par for the course tonight. I'd have to get up if I wanted to watch the game or what was left of it. Give it a hell of a slam and hope that it didn't kill the tv and that it didn't fall from it's position. Downing my shot, I stood as the rye burned its way down my throat and into my stomach. I slammed the palm of my hand into the side of the box and watched the television right itself. Aamir slid my bottle down the bar to me, nodded his thanks and returned to his dog-eared book. He was a man of few words I could respect that. Grabbing the bottle by the neck I casually strolled back to my seat sat down and poured myself what was sure to be the first of many shots.


I nursed my second and third shots. While I had a most unexpected and 'eventful' day, and while someone else may get completely shitfaced at the days turn of events...I decided it best to keep my wits about me. After all who else could say they'd landed a multimillion dollar deal, lost a multimillion dollar deal, accidentally pushed a young woman in front of an on-coming subway train killing her instantly and because of the fact that she was a Russian Mafia Princess now having the Russian mafia after them? Not me. Not when I woke up this morning anyway. And now blood was all over my hands...and the rest of me. Metaphorically speaking anyway. And if the Russian Mafia had their way, literally as well.