Tag Archives: Anger


I am an amalgamation of all that come before me. I am both the ending and beginning of a real-life redemption story. I am not a fairy-tale or a parable containing lessons to be learned. I am a messiah of a mess on a mission-carrying respect waiting to be earned. This is MY turn. I will set fire to the words that have previously bound me. Bind my fists with the split ends of the definitions that surround me. I will make of myself everything and nothing that you have ever expected and then I will reject it. I will take the potential that you’ve weighed on me for which I never asked, and I will take its full enormity and shove it up your ass. See, I never break but I shatter-and the scattered pieces left to be placed, they never really mattered.


Stupid angry words this time


I was a virgin mind to suicide

Keep you in mind, I’ve had people die

But not ever in such a senseless way

It was always just this; that this is their day.

And I confess that I thought

How much stronger I would be

Than the reserves that I’ve got

Which are bleeding from me.

And leaving me hollow

And cold in my heart

Of the endless-mess sorrow

From a world torn apart.

For how ever you loved him,

You’ll hear some voice say

Those angry words barge in

That “THIS was his way?”

And my BIGGEST frustration

That lay in my head

Facts lain in prostration:

You can’t argue the dead


Bitter fruit


I used to say that men aged like wine. And women aged like unpreserved fruit. Now these concepts aren’t really mine, but I still maintain their truth. Because whether a fellow gets sour or mellow, he still obtains some use. But when a women gets dried up or sags down-she gets traded for something new.  Like fruit. Tossed out and composted then walked on like she’s dirt-the condition of her flesh impresses-on others what she’s worth. She’s cursed with the fate of a sell-by date, and SOME are packed up and shipped off and sold by weight. And they say, that it’s ok. We’re the fairest sex so it’s best that we’re treated this way.  A major in commodity, we’re not permitted our anonymity. The fruit of this womb is set to consume, and I shouldn’t presume, to say what comes through. But it’s untrue. Cause I’m made of meat and bleed, didn’t come from dirt or seed. And I PLEAD with this patriarchal society to see ME. Beyond the flesh that bruises is a person who thinks and feels and chooses, and I think I feel my choices being taken away from me. And you call me a peach, and I scream because a peach don’t bleed. when you cut it. And a seed won’t grow just cause you love it. And you think you know, but you can shove it because I am so fucking far above it. And my sisters, and mothers, and lovers and friends weren’t born on this planet to be ate up by men. So I mean what I say when I’m talking to you, a woman’s a person and not some sort of fruit. So you’re fucked for biting more than you can chew-Cause this peach is fighting, and she’s coming for you.

More poetry slam Journal entries


Kila and Goliath (2008)

I’m in the head sick and, I’m sick of this affliction. So excuse my lack of diction, but it is my predeliction, to mumble when I’m scared. Always so Illprepared. It always creeps up unannounced and… Then it pounces. And I’m just as shocked as the next one. In my face, here’s a panic shock, and legs locked, I stand stock-Still until the pill will. Disolve, and solve it all. But I don’t swallow them anymore. So what do I do in replacement? What’ll be my fear time call erasement? Kill the demon in the basment? That whispers up at night. Aimless worries in my head, floating low over my bed and tilting my reality, til I can no longer see… That they’re baseless, faceless, foundless, out of bounds and groundless. So I guess I’ll go a-demon huntin, A-hunting I will go… I’ll take my razor wit, viper’s tongue, and who knows, I might bag a giant giant along the way… So watch out Goliath, Kila’s on her way…

A stitch in mind (2008)

Beautiful grace, spinning time and place, falling headlong into space. Dangerous in self-definition, so much more secure in practice. What kind of oxy-moron is this? Light in my darkness? Safe in danger? Familliar stranger? (Disorganized re-arranger) Confused, befuddled, and intrigued, I am. Am I. Afraid of heights, in this I fly. Scared shitless, spent and witless, once shapeless, shiftless, I am the witness. To this transformation through which I’m going… My butterfly is showing, and in this crysalis I’m growing. My smile is cracking through the stone. The facade i once called home. Break the walls down, one by one. Step into the light of day, I will not fade away. No longer transparant, worn thin and weak like watered whiskey and bad tea. It does not intoxicate me. But frees, it liberates me. Strength in arm, I mean no harm. I just need, to no longer bleed, and be redeemed. I need to silence, the voice of fear, ringing in cacophonous in my ear, drowning out so I can’t hear, you softly whisper. The words of encouragement you’ve always murmured. So soft, sometimes I’m not sure what I’ve heard. But you never shout. Not at me. So what I see, hear, and feel, are, in reality. Always exactly, what you promised me. I’m such a stupid girl sometimes. Even knowing what kind (of mess I’d make) I changed my mind (and made it break) and now I’m stitching time, and reality, back inside of me. Sewing stitches into the holes in my mind, so I’ll never again find, that I’ve let you… Fall through.




Dear God (fuck you) may 7, 2008


I am a mightly crystal brick. Shiny bullet proof thick, sweet and pure and slippery-slick. Absent from the distance, holding me back in time. Total recall. I used to have. Now I forget too much from day to day. And remember too much from yesterday. There was a time I truely prayed. I believed. Belived in something stronger, something greater. An all knowing all-creator. An omnipotent omnipresence. Some may call it god. Now I call it wrong and sick and odd. To think theres someone always watching, that there is something out there. Has everyone running scared. Looking over shoulders, hoping to be missed… Dear lord,you know I think… You know, if you really DO exist.. Man, you GOTTA be pissed. Look at the mess we’ve made. With all this shit we do to each other. Brother fucking over brother, kids spitting on their mothers… Takes to long for us to discover, that we’re all we got on this damn stupid rock. We’re all we fucking got. But our biggest claim to undying fame, is a the fucked up shit done in your name. And when we fuck it up, we displace the blame. “The devil made me do it.” “Don’t blame me, the gun ain’t mine.” “Motherfucker, what do you mean, when I left her the bitch was fine!”  “She fell, she fell! Aw, go to hell! I told you twice, the bitch, she fell!”  God bless the little children. And all the shit done to them. Preists in shepards clothing, Costantly disrobing. And who but they must bless them, when the sit smug in their confession. A vow cannot be broken, so when the truth is spoken. A blind eye must be turned… And what fucking pennence is earned? How many hail fucking marys does it take to wash THAT sin clean? Is that what God has come to mean? It’s enough to make me turn green… Makes me sick. So here I sit, thick as a goddamn fucking brick. What am I supposed to do? I used to believe in you. Saw it as a one big honest truth. But then I saw too much of the abuse, that this sick world can produce… Bust just in case you ARE out there, hiding somewhere… Heres to you, God. This one’s for you, God… FUCK YOU.

Old Journal entry april 17 2008


Wind it down, wind me up. I’m wired backwards, the lines are crossed. My mind is not my friend today, it’s lonely, and I’m lost… Why wont the voices say anything, I sure could use some advice… The only voice I hear is my own today, (and I’m not being very nice.) Nice… Nice… Chop it up and put it on ice. Before you swallow, chew it twice… (Just to make sure that you won’t choke…) Bet it all, and go for broke. Broke… Broken little toys, for all the girls and boys. Shattered hearts bring no joy, (so some one hand me the glue..). And some paper and scisors too… See, I know what to do. Construction paper hearts, and lace. Scraps of paper all about the place. Make a mask over my face… And tear it off again. YOU (me) ARE NOT MY FRIEND!!! The path of least resistance… brings no distance… Travel in circles, always back the start, back on the stage. Now bring me some growth with age. I call for the piper, prince or the pauper. Some empty quotes from Cindy Lauper… Girls just wanna have fun.. (and I’m a girl) but I don’t just wanna have fun. I wanna love the life I’ve won. I wanna be proud of what I’ve done. Finish what I’ve begun. My headspace is sick. Thick as a brick. Taunting me, telling me.. Diminishing my reality, and making me doubt my ability. To see this (you) all of it.. Through. To the finish line. (IS there a finish line?) I know I’m yours… will you be mine? If Ima real good girl. And I do it right, and rock your world.. And don’t trip up and run away… And hold back fear, and always stay… (why won’t the fear just GO AWAY)… Where do I go from here. I cannot silence, but can ignore the fear. I know.. I know… I know, I know… Fuck.. hell… I don’t know. what is it that I’m asking? This light in which I’m basking. I am as real as I know how to be. Chameleons in my memory. Switching out reality, and blinding eyes too bruised to see, what it is ahead of me. The path unclear of all debris. Peices of hearts strewn all about. All bits of me that I’ve cut out. Now how do I put them back again. Which way does this fit in? Fuck! SHIT! I’ve got it backwards… No wonder it wouldn’t fit that way (oh, now it’s crushed) Oh well, didn’t wan that peice anyway… Puzzles aren’t my favorite game to play… But damn do I puzzle me, counfound, confuse, befuddle me.  I want what I want, and that’s how it is… Just don’t ask my plans for getting it. Confound it… I lost it! No I’ve found it… Now I’ve gotta dog-trot hound it. Some one put me on a leash, I shouldn’t run around out loose. “Oh, I like your shoes!” Damn… Why does my mind have to run in circles on me?

Some pretty old stuff here


I’m including dates with these poems because they’re actually dated… which is strange for me, but hey!

Sept 17, 2006

Crazy in the head

feeling kinda half cocked, missing being fine.
I’m crazy in the head today, and I’m out to lose my mind.
sleeping on my feet, walking in my dreams,
waking to a nightmare, everything’s as it seems.
So off kilter I will go, just to change the pace.
Crazy in the head today, like all the human race.


April 18 2006

(for Cayden)

Across a field of skin
A life that sighs within
Dancing below the surface
moving to the rythm of life
shifting flesh softly
soon to emerge into sunlight
a bright spot in my vision

the pinnicle of life’s achievment
The cycle renews its self
and I am gratful


Jan 11 2006

Fuck you

fuck what you got in store for me.
You think I can’t circumvent you?
Get around, and re-construct you?
Do my best and in the end, fuck you?
You don’t know me,
You don’t own me,
And you certainly can’t direct me.
I refuse to lie down
Beaten around
Fucked wide,
Sucked dry,
Cast aside.
Fate fuck destiny,
Pushed aside by me,
Brushed past with impunity.
Fuck you!
You can’t control me,
Think you own me,
You’re nothing.
At all
Without cooperation,
And let’s be truthful here,
Let the fallicies dissapear,
And come to grips with the fact,
That I will react
Talk back
Speak out,
Laugh loud
In your face.


Jan 11 2006

Cold Flame

I break out,
Strike down,
Push aside the mask and cry
A shriek across a colbalt sky
Dance in flame
Gone insane
Been to hell and back again
But who in all this held my hand,
Led me through a famine land?
Gave me courage to fight all fear?
Rage entitled, held so dear.
I’m stronger than I thought I was,
Anger just another tool.
It’s the energy I need to burn
To get things done I have to do.
And do I must, and finish all.
Now I run,
Now I walk,
And now I crawl.
Across the point of no return
Given flesh for fuel to burn
Burn it will,
I will
So well
Brushing off this mental hell.


Jan 22 2006

Spun glass

I want pretty words today
Pretty words
Softly spoken
Glide across the skin and play
Pretty words
I’m built of glass right now
I’m not sure
But I think my flesh some how
Got melted off
And melted in
The sands of time
And put back in
And delicate
I NEED pretty words today
Spoken softly,