Tag Archives: poem

diaric, poetry, station notes

[february ’26] sundaycall from the cave sphinx

Gustave Moreau: Sphinx in a Grotto (Poet, King and Warrior) 

Hiya neighbors,

I hope you’re well, though I understand that feels impossible and improbable. But I pray for your good, robust health, that your verve is flourishing and protected, and that the glimmers of joy envelope you, regardless of those trying to feast upon us.

What are you reading? Do you like it? Do you keep reading things you don’t like out of the belief that you must finish? So far this month I’ve read:1

Here are some new additions to my ever-expanding to-read list:

They say to create more than you consume, and in that spirit, here are some of the latest craftworks from yours truly so far this year:

Yep, I’m still on substack for now. We’ll see how long I can stand the fumes, especially now with their polymarket bullshit. In the meantime, I created a new page featuring mutual aid funds and donations for our neighbors who could use some support.

Here’s the song that has been stuck in my head (gloriously, benevolently). And here’s another one spinning on repeat here in the cave, courtesy of a certain darling little owl who loves visiting. Thank you and bless you forever, Rosie Gaines.

Elsewhere we’re in the pre-shadow period of Mercury Retrograde <<retroshade>>, so I don’t expect this Chicago Bears hullabaloo will be settled for a while, and I notice some exes have appeared on the horizon.

Today in fire horse:

All righty folks, out like a sphinx—I’ll keep some riddles and secrets until next time,

dal fiume al mare, Palestina libera • Abolish ICE • courage or die, neighbor

Love, Kate

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diaric, poetry

‘24 I’m on FIRE: diaries

Photo by Josh Harrison on Unsplash
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.

jukebox

when KENDRICK DROPPED & Doechii’s Tiny Desk & the Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes:

out of the past [diary archive]

what these nets drug in, 2018 and counting:

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poetry

2019 • NEW YEARS WRIT • 2020

When you were 20
When you are 30;

When you just recently
revisited your mother’s houseplant
alive longer than you
by a good decade;

When you’re newly fallen
for a new fable;

When the slowcooker
in the background while
images of redblood sun in
Australia;

When you find that
thrones don’t come with rear
view mirrors;

When you’re filled with love
to bursting
when you know not the words;
when you keep coming back to naïve melody;

When now;

When the sound of crows
in chorus and the dryer
buzz;

When the glowing sun of a
rightful dynasty is nigh;

When there’s plenty work to do.

Now magic and clear.

Thank you. I love you.

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