diaric, poetry

Do Something Fun

Wrap it up, man. Wrap. It. Up!

when the pointlessly joyous day FINALLY arrives.
when it’s been so dark.

when you recognize other ways you’ve been abusive.
when you are brave and cauterize the wound.

when it’s time to party!!!!
and do I have it in me?

when the swan bled.
Fought first. Fought again.
Then bled quietly away.

When I’ve been burning all year.



Photo by Svitlana on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

Station note

Hello gentle readers—

A bit of news: I had the honor of submitting a poetry manuscript to Driftwood Press’ Adrift Chapbook Contest this year, guest judged by thee Carl Phillips. Carl Phillips wrote one of my all-time favorite poems, The Swain’s Invitation; the idea that he might read some of my poetry, when I have long and lovingly read his, thrilled me to the bones.

I placed as a Top 10 finalist. I am so grateful for this opportunity and to have been read. Thank you, Driftwood Press.

Congratulations to the contest winner, Derek Annis, to my fellow finalists, and to all my fellow poets who entered.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

With lots of love,
–K

this is a screenshot of driftwood press adrift chapbook contest winner announcement: winner Derek Annis, guest judge Carl Phillips, top 10 finalist Kate Carsella
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diaric, poetry

Sometimes you gotta cry

Sometimes you gotta cry, baby.
I know. I know. It’s okay. I understand. You go on and cry. We all gotta cry sometimes. I love you.
We’re almost there.
We’re almost home.

When you are suspicious, and yet, …it is catchy. Damn it!
But that doesn’t relieve the tension of my mistrust. What is your deal?
oh, hell. it’s not similarity, is it???

When he watches the movie for the first time,
and says, what. a. Psycho.

When your murky undulations epiphany—I don’t have to
say it like it’ll start a fight. cuz it won’t. he wants it, too.
(Your soft has a nestle here. You built it. Well. And he cheered all the while.)
In fact, he’s hungry for it.
That beautiful twinkling hunger he has
with the devouring undertow.

When unraveling keeps popping up.



Photo by Trevor McKinnon on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

On This Day

this week: for what it’s worth & tomorrow 2
when you need an emergency meeting of the midday society
and tooth 7 is coming in
and i shall know the glories of those sock sneakers Balenciaga
—you mark my words;

who knew?
when pruning and weeding in the morning
—sunsplash soothed—
i didn’t realize that my favorite morning glories
are invasive! … Do I mind? I do mind their throttle
of the others.
I give the purple blooms and snaking vines a talking-to
as I tend my garden.
We can’t be doing this, my love. You know that.

When it’s all moving so dreadfully
slowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
treading water for a month
makes you remember calm and hoping it’s true
—the trust of unfolding—
and then you remember the hold Orpheus had on you then.



Photo by Bogdan Todoran on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

B sounds

Itinerary, Inbox, Insomnia
get a hold of yourself. 🙂 / 😐

Increased core strength and she’ll stand.
In weeks, she’ll grip words, too.

Instead of that cold, drafty tower of talons,
House of Gucci again for me.
For they know best gratuitousness.

When you look up from your work and confide to her,
this working is not working.

When one story is about moon drops.

When inspiration sparkling at the periphery—a hummingbird
cake. Toasted pecans are a must;
a can of crushed pineapple
with the juices. WITH. Do Not Drain.



this is a picture of sparkling black sand, probably after midnight, on the way to your dream's fortune.
Photo by Adrien Olichon on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

Heart: Start Ignition

when you’re blue, instead.
when you should take a nap.

Mooncats, when the compass rose
meets the revolution. will no one
say it outright?

They’re there, roadkill
I’m here killing streets


I’m The Hottest.


When The Devil lurks
and the universe repeats itself: bend us to you
We await.

Also, RENAISSANCE,
of course, of course, of course
on repeat of course, of course, of course
because, once again, disco,
Disco never died.



Photo by Vance A. on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

Engaging Glamorous

When it’s a life of illusion
and I am the Magician.

way back when, I always wanted
a twin. an older brother—a shield,
a knight. later on, when i discovered that i must be,
i am, my own brother.

Here come the words!

remember when:
she used to love to say, ‘you are dumbern a sacka hammers’
then kill herself laughing.

when oh, all right, I’ll be
your villain.
You comfy?
Now what?



Photo by Blake Cheek on Unsplash
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diaric, poetry

The Romantics

House of Flowers
Gates of Love

by Zeus, it’s a lightning bolt(!)
storming expansion in our hold

(allow me to tuck you in, sweet darling,
your little duckie blanket all snug)

Halls of Power, pirates,
singing queens, sunset sold;
Flying scoundrels falling
in love, myths retold;

House afire,
Magic bold.

When it’s never smart to burn white hot
(lest you flame away)

When this side is paradise.

And when it’s my birthday.



Photo: Robert Katzki via Unsplash
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