I really love listening to relaxing typing videos—and clacking away on my mechanical keybort—so this was a lot of fun to create:
ASMR o’clock – A day in the life of a bard, writing up poetry and tales from my journeys. join me, let’s buddy up and create our art together, to the dulcet, relaxing ambience of clacky typing, clicking around, writing down ideas, shufflin papers and notes. (no speaking till end credits)
I.
When I am beyond vengeance.
A shine well-earned;
back on my
Head-in-the-clouds dancing
tongue, pen, and all;
Studying the greats like
Sade, Whitney,
All Hail Queens
Memphis & Texas & Princesses Diamond & Swamp
the old-school Gemini, reincarnated
When I learned some
carpentry, I have a gift
chopping wood and carrying water
my hearth is hot
I mop with hot salt and peppermint
It’s better this way. All the waxing
into balms now, all the stingers hot
honey in a cute little squeezy bear,
jars on jars, jars and jars.
O, How I’ve made comb.
When I am the cavalry.
II.
You make me hunger, study
devotion, sing my heart out
royally, Like Whitney or Mariah or Sade
thread the needle livewire—admiring Doechii
never reaching, only receiving
[nothing like your ex,
the company that sells
wooden hips where rhythm
goes to die,
a grift if I ever saw one
naked, unfathomable
mediocrity, protected class,
a fright.
Did it scare you?, my
Verse lover, my
dancing lightning bolt,
when she penned you down?
Some cheap lore for the store
What a bore. Like all that fame.
She bore the scent
of rank reputation,
the false reds, she claims the masters, but]
You can’t buy rhythm.
When your famously big
hands belong on my hips
again. I walked with you once,
It only takes one dream
To create eternity
not reaching, receiving
sharing our Lover's Cup
When I'll meet you
in the kitchen, sugar.
III.
when the assassin (decoy?)
is a cutiepie
when of *course* he's Italian
folks love when we plug
corruption. If the Mafia were
smart, they would rebrand
There's more where that came from,
the scourge of boardrooms everywhere...
When, come to find out,
We have the same birthday
mirrored years, must be cousins somewhere
of course we are, our understanding likewise
Let them think we cannot
walk in silence, caro fratello
Possa la tua schiena essere guarita
Per abbinare il tuo passo ardente
Lasciateli credere
che la violenza non è la risposta
quando La Violenza è La Risposta.
ci amano
perché capiamo
Silence is useful,
Those who fear silence, let them
Let them fear solitude
Let them forgo
the walk alone through the woods.
Let yourself be
Loved. Shine.
IV.
When you step into ferocity
candles and party, Chameleon
when I pop out.
Cocoontime over.
Are you mad?!
Darling, have some tea
While I loose this truth
enthroned in my bare breast
Now, eager student,
eagle-eyed
What have we learned?
In spite of everything to the contrary,
There are a lotta smart people out there.
Are you mad?!
I remain inspired.
V.
I deserve this.
I am a fiery vision
Autocorrect: furry
haha. Velvet, sure.
Quantum leaps. Get used to
being seen.
Can’t keep their eyes off you.
When the dream is
no longer a figment.
When I passed the test.
Congratulations! You’re a
MASSIVE THREAT.
When I haven’t even peaked yet.
Override your nice
for your intuition.
When I kiss you
unknown, my future encounter
I release you, then you arrive
And the radio says, Let’s dance.
You say, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.
when the hogwash is hogtied
sewn up in this world,
a fiery brick.
When I don’t know what you’re still complaining about, but,
Be thankful, said Katt.
Be thankful for the haters,
a string of polo ponies;
Let them do their job.
When you work for me, honey,
cords cut regardless.
When you haven’t walked alone,
and it shows.
Do yourself a favor.
When this year stripped me bare.
I am raw, thank you.
Sacrificing my wounds for something greater, thank you.
Triggers and sparks both
medicine, thank you.
When I am shameless.
Thank you.
When life alone
is an invitation to dream
Big. Sprezzatura, moltomoltomoltomolto
Grazie, and a drink. and a cookie.
When it’s a turning point.
Are they really about to…?
When timing is sexual
tension between me and reality.
Get thee to the riverbed,
you wildfire.
When you can just ask
the snakes in my hair
when I am ready to be perceived.
When I cannot even fathom
all the unkind things people do,
Thank you.
Sitting pretty, entertaining
my shadows.
Bulls-eye.
when KENDRICK DROPPED & Doechii’s Tiny Desk & the Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes:
what these nets drug in, 2018 and counting:
all this energy harvesting.
This poem died several times on its way to you. So here we are, gathered here today, on this day of kayfabe, pyro, and hogwash:
’24 Dedication: long game
When it’s still waters run deep
Happy Birthday, Baby. Hot
chocolate and Chicago hot dogs
under the cheese moon
my driving makes you swoon
… rather, green-gilled. Sorry,
Baby, roll down the window
A rank sulphur, I won’t hold it
against you, my little pooh-bear.
At the game, all the adoring fans
armed with the livestream
camera glued, a homemade poster
says ‘i love you, Please gimme
your puck.’
This gal ran all the way
from Vancouver, as
The Proclaimers sangeth.
She trembled with it
back to her seat,
before the drop
and I could not understand
why tremble so before any man?
Yeah, I voted.
Who do I vote for
to end this genocide?
When one of my least favorite
words is shareholder-I spit-
Dusty Rhodes warned us
about management-their gifts
after all these years of hard work
a cheap watch and a laughing
kick in the ass.
’24 cesspool
Acting so nice
before the circular firing squad
Crickets
and leopards eating your faces.
When we’re locked in, alright.
Yap-Yap-Yap!!!
all you ever do-
HUSH!
When being popular is so
passé.
Oh please, there’s always speed
laying around in this country
When it got so dreadful,
I threw on some Hank Williams to brighten the mood.
Everybody’s reaching for their cigarettes again.
When the house is burning down,
have sex in it.
[when it’s politicians and proxies,
I am also petty-You venal, hateful
rodent-faced • old bat • bigot • bagman • motherfuck-]
When they remembered the fall
of Gondolin, then rocked and smoked
by the hearth, singing merry
Goddamn, I love ya.
When she told me,
Mama, we all have hearts.
. . . Why are you telling me this?
.
.
.
. . . I need to get out of here.
’24 Dedication: The long game (redux)
When I grew to understand
the Menendez Brothers
a little better than before.
When I have seen
just how families eat
their young
at the drop of a hat.
suspicious, are you?
What am I up to?
why is she so quiet
all of a sudden?
When I am bleeding, too,
and that which must stanche
invades instead; banal cancer.
I'd cut it from the fabric
out like a cigarette burn
leaving scorch to mark your passing—
When all I needed was a walk.
When she asked, Mommy?
Do we have everything we need?
Yes, darling.
When I die, I know
it isn't over. I must
rest here a moment,
Before I pick up my quiver
wands, arrows
I look Death in the eye.
why is the grass so green
when it's gallowstime?
When I'm On FIRE.
on repeat • repeat • repeat:
I started buying CDs again. No commercials, endless repeats and skips. I can yearn and delve passionately. I can hold the jewel case in my hands, I can admire the artistry up close.
Some more albums I’ve been loving of late:
When I almost got away with it.
When it beat me up, down the barrel
for weeks. Roughed me.
When i’m coming out of the woods.
When i’m in the clear.
But. You showed me indeed
the tough going sent who going.
1. When… . . … I don’t think you like me very much at all.
2. When you used to be funny. Now your air’s grievance.
3. When you forgot the sugar for the pie.
(The risk you run,
baking without tasting.)
When I found friendly eyes
Surprise, between the boulders and the skulls.
I would have passed by, despite the roses
I so prize. Though your portrait hangs
in my house. For years I passed, loving the color.
Not recognizing you.
But you recognized me. Love is real.
The thing i’m here
to learn—my body—is
enough is enough. I am
riches aplenty before the burning obscene.
When you thought you were the terror.
When I laugh,
because you have. Never. Seen. Me.
When it’s enough of you;
your time is lean.
jukebox:
[archival] for the curious, these diary entries (and jukebox time capsules) from the same time period in past years:
Hi folks! With gratitude, I’m happy to report that my poem “remember how you had me” found a home in manywor(l)d‘s Issue 2. It was an honor and a delight working with the editors, I thank them from the bottom of my heart for this opportunity; I hope you all enjoy reading this issue (and Issue 1), it’s chock full of wow and wonders.
When the air is the high water. Your throat, your spine. Your nails a-clack and coffin-cut like the chasing paper’s tines. When heaven’s middle stills its clouds full pockets of currents; The riverbed we can’t escape. Only anchor’s my horns, my horns our roots now. Horns, promise me, for my parade. No grave, just currents; no spot —a Waldo in the bardo— An orchard, perhaps. The rain calling for bed. That way I will travel with you. That way I drowned will sing for you, my call ends At home with the world.
[archival] for the curious, these diary entries (and jukebox time capsules) from the same time period in past years:
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.
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
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.
when the satire is too rich
for my lilylivered self;
when I want more
of The Great, please; when Russian literature appears
—synchronicity—
When I want to press a button
so most forget me.
Just the ones I pick.
Just need space-quiet.
Just for a little while.
’til i’m ready.
Please?
kate carsella 