Category: heartbreak

january 10 2025

On By ©️K.T. 2025In america, anthropocene, bucolia, Capitalism, Climate Chaos, Climate Collapse, Colonization, Crone, crone chronicles, Crone Consciousness, dirt road chronicles, Earth, Earth hospice, Earthling, Fascism, from the inner city to outer rural, Genocide, goodbye city life, heartbreak, Hospice, january, kinship, Lamentations, liminality, outer rural, planetary hospice, Poem, PoliticsLeave a comment

a sweet spot, a warm, quiet evening,

of a too-soft winter here,

on & of the good Earth,

that tempts the comfortable one

to flirt with forgetting

the hard totality

of this hot and cold, man-made,

loud and brutal World.

memo to a particular poet

On By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, love, memo, Poem, poememo, poetry, relationships, UncategorizedLeave a comment

i am going to bed, now
at 7:08
to lessen the ache
of being awake

this is a poem
this is the business
of us, artists
this is our “business correspondence”

inform a collaborator
a coworker – if you will,
of your passwords and process
before taking those pills

my corazón has nearly bled-out
migrating across my torso, my limbs,
and my crown
settling into my cornflower blue eyes
bloodshot — with or without drops and disguise

Continue reading “memo to a particular poet” →

play possum

On By ©️K.T. 2025In Animals, heartbreak, love, Ode, Poem, poetry, StoicLeave a comment

i’m fine

nothing’s wrong

i just really love this song
gives me the blues sometimes, is all

a snake, a possum, a doe and fawn
on the roadside killed, again, i saw

i heard the breaking news story
i’m awfully raw, so please ignore me

this world can be so cruel and wicked
of course, my tender heart’s afflicted

glistened eyes, lump throat, and quiver lip

you think they’re for you?

well sir, or ma’am: that’s rich.

all lies,

but also, all true.

someone

On By ©️K.T. 2025In heartbreak, poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment

i feel like someone
you last loved on a wednesday,
earlier this week

i feel like someone who was once your intense singular joy/ now and again, an invisible naturalist, poet, neologist and crone

i feel like someone you forgot to mention the Hilma Af Klint show to

i feel like someone losing our intimacy
exponentially, by the second, against a shot clock in an un-united center

i feel like someone whose forehead you won’t kiss; whose hollows you’ll never touch with hands, tongue or tip; like someone who’ll never truly climax again

i feel like someone who upset you with
Dream[ing] and that’s where it ended; someone who never listened to your diatribe about Waco, or heard of your plane rituals and four-part fruition

i feel like someone whose mystery you’ll let be; whose content was consumed without gnosis; like those cold “leftovers.”

i don’t feel like someone you will walk across a frozen Lake or Lake bed to get to anymore, during the apocalypse, Station Eleven style Continue reading “someone” →