. . : : D A Y M A R E : : . .

I had been there

Where the butterfly fluttered its wing - then wondered, is this me?

Same place, different times, and last night, you

Lips in fogs but voice, crystal

Amidst the haze, what remains

is your imprint on today

All too sure, in only blurs

The morning's here, and replay, I replay

Even there, snarky and beckoning

The same way you'd push then pull like tides

How many moons have waxed and waned

Yet you awaken memories outside my dreams

Mon. 3.30.15

Emotions bleached white - yet through times like this, the stain proves it remains, however faintly.

*Something New* #1

I'm starting to see things oh darling

I think I started to feel relentless of using the same sentences

lets run away in the middle of the night

lets change the course of time

so we can play the cards of some game you told me once

I will  get to watch you go through gas station lights and street composing signs

each song will bring a different feeling

and we can hide under that ,so shameful but don't say a word and I wont tell them

I saw my face in a window a few days ago and it scared me to see who looked back

that's how I know I have forgotten my own address so we cant go

we got tickets to pirate land, this dreams wont come true

but leaving a cigar and fuel next to wood didn't make it better or bring them around one last time

two hours outside in a mid drink it just seems fair

to wobble taking the weight of both our minds

it frustrates me having to go through each recording

but after a few weeks of dancing in parking lots and breaking our crimes

I don't care lets go look again

I'm so done with the park benches as shoulders

describe me how good it feels to be believing in some old some body's

I don't want to break in to a scream but I feel like I would die

unless  the car stops working I think its the best idea to get us coming

bring it all once and for all

so we could end up same spot same time

faces, body is all just flesh

just different tattoo ideas that just wont come off

. . : : Q U A K E : : . .

Pitiable things,
Heart strings
Stickier still
Their tugs
That quiver
Long after they're pulled

What many seem useless
Breathes into me a gust
Of life, a reminder
That my heart still thumps blindly
When it bumps into eyes kindly
Meeting me where mine are

Sing my heart a lullaby
As it hiccups mid-day
For the harshest truth is the every day
And it's a day that becomes a life
So guarded are we against earthquakes
That we stamp out every flutter

Cut them away with logic
Shake no to improbability
Let our heads block senseless musings,
Helpless vibrations, nascent reveries -
Yet aren't they what make a song
And we claim we want to fall

==============================================

How absent is a genuine gesture of kindness from our lives that when I come across it, it brands itself into me and I am suddenly spellbound.

New York, NY 


July 2014 © SeoJin Jeannie Kim