KK . KK .

That Feeling

You feel it too don’t you. 

That feeling 

That feeling of nothingness 

Of melancholy

Of doubt

Of hope

It feels like the early morning 

But not the ones of golden rays 

Or heavenly clouds

But the ones of a gray blue void

Painted onto the sky above

The air is cool, almost crisp

The sun doesn’t shine from one place

But rather comes from all around

Like an office light

It’s dull. It has no personality 

You feel it too,

Don’t you?

-K

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KK . KK .

New Day. Same shit. 

I woke up this morning and forgot to breathe. 

My eyes blink and blink because there is too much to see. 

Maybe I’m hungry? I don’t know,

The last time my stomach growled was 3 days ago. 

Maybe I’m in love? Probably not,

I can’t talk the talk and can never walk the walk. 

So what’s wrong with me?

And why do I write poems no one will ever see? 

-K

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KK . KK .

Thunderstorm

To witness lightning is to witness a god

To see the pure bolts of energy 

Crash into the horizon from the endless void of dark clouds is something akin to riding a roller coaster. 

The moment when everything stops

As you take in the beauty of the land around you,

Only to be flung down violently into the earth. 

That jolt of awe from the lightning disappears in a matter of seconds. 

Soon followed by the echoed booms of thunder. 

Bouncing off mountains and valleys, then reverberating inside your chest. 

At that moment we have two choices to make in the eyes of Mother Nature;

To leave her area of wrath and return to the safety of our homes and beds. 

Or stay, and witness this dance of heaven and earth, look upon the twists and turns of pure energy as cool pellets of water drip down until they become heavy and cold. 

But at least you witnessed a god.

-K

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KK . KK .

Room 

Claustrophobic. 

That’s the best way to describe it

A hard tense feeling of the walls 

Collapsing like a house of cards onto you. 

Air thick like oil in your lungs,

Drowning any screams you make. 

No one can hear you. 

No one wants to hear you. 

As you lay there on a bed that may as well be a piece of driftwood 

You open that small portal to a world of ecstasy. 

Instant gratification and satisfaction. 

It’s almost orgasmic, isn’t it?

But wait… 

Why aren’t your friends talking to you?

You messaged them a while ago now...

Well maybe they just got busy. 

Yes. That’s it. They’re just busy. 

They wouldn’t forget about me, that’s silly

They wouldn’t. 

Right?

It’s been a couple hours now…

Still no answer from anyone. 

You’ve tried calling them but the phone drones on and on, it echoes in your mind. 

They hate you. 

They never loved you, no one did

You always talked, on and on 

They just wanted to be left alone 

And you couldn’t take a hint

YOU COULDN’T GROW UP

But... 

maybe if I wait a little longer. 

They’ll come back

They’ll come back and it’ll be fun again

Just like the old days. 

Everyone will be there. 

Everyone has to be there. 

They won’t come. You know that deep down in that sad excuse of a soul you have. 

You’re really pathetic aren’t you.

You really think they would drop everything for you?

Come and please you like Pavlov’s dogs??

You’re worthless 

Nothing more than dirt, no. 

You’re less than dirt.

Even ants don’t bother themselves with you. 

I want you out. 

Get out of my head. 

Stop talking so loud

Stop hurting me

Please get out of my head

Just leave and never come back. 

No. 

I’ve been here all along. 

Without me what would you do all day?

I at least make you feel something. 

If I wasn’t around you’d be nothing more than a dead tree log. 

Waiting for something to happen like a trained dog. 

So would you like a treat dog?

Do some tricks?

Well?

Would you?

You go to bed that night hoping that this tormented nightmare ends. 

That was more than 444 days ago. 

You wake up again. 

Day 445

Time to check your phone. 

-K

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KK . KK .

Mt. Fuji

When clouds rain, I dance

When mist rolls over hills, I become enthralled 

It’s snowing on Mt. Fuji

And I feel nothing. 

-K

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KK . KK .

Haiku for Someone 

Drifting off into deep sleep

Her eyes dart around, her body radiates warmth

Blissful sleep, gone by tomorrow

-K

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KK . KK .

Old Lovers 

I don’t remember the day when she met me

It seems like we’ve both known each other since our first breaths 

Days seem off now and then

Like a faulty lightbulb, or a scratchy record. 

Some days it gets cold. 

Dark and damp, raindrops turn into daggers that pierce weak skin. 

The air itself seems toxic, a thick cloud of gas forcing itself into my body. 

But then tomorrow brings something different. 

The sun will embrace me in its warm blanket of glow. 

Cats will rub against my legs instead of giving cold stares of judgment. 

Car rides turn into mini karaoke sessions, 

walking even transforms itself into a fun pastime. 

And when we met again, it feels like the joy of talking and pleasure of listening is the best thing in the world. 

And if given the choice of reliving every moment until this point now,

I would do it all over again. 

-K

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KK . KK .

The Ocean Blue

Long days await a lonely sailor. 

One who’s life is bound to the constant drift

Of the ocean blue. 

Desperate for belonging,

The lonely sailor talks to creatures of the sea. 

Singing the mellow songs of ancient humpback whales,

Waiting for the old sea turtles to remember their days upon dry golden sand.

Watching young sharks turn into hunters of the deep. 

As mermaids hum soft ballads to views that have no words that could decently describe them. 

He lays down his anchor to relax with the star fishes in colorful and bright coral reefs. 

And as this lonely sailor hoists his sails, and raises his anchor. 

He can’t help but notice the sun spilling it’s golden glow onto the calm waves. Slowly drowning into the sea, while the dark sky of night takes over and shines it’s bounty of stars and constellations. For one fleeting moment, our lonely sailor feels calm. 

Feels loved. 

As his eyes begin to feel heavy and his breath slows, jellyfish help carry him off to dream. 

To dream of a better tomorrow. 

To dream that he might meet another lonely sailor 

In the vast, ocean blue. 

-K

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KK . KK .

Talking

We used to talk about everything 

Back when the world was ruled by kings

Nothing could stop us 

Then something happened

Like a deer in the headlight, 

a car swerved into a bus

We still talked but now it was selective

No more deep dives into our mind’s thought collection.

I’d write you books

while you mailed back notecards

Then I’d get upset, thinking you didn’t look. 

Getting more in debt with depression than Tom Nook. 

I’d ask, you’d reluctantly answer 

But still the depression came back like a panther. 

Now I’m screaming to myself why

As you go on with your day, 

No shame

Dancing to a pale moon in a pale blue sky. 

I still write those books as they get longer,

your notecards seem so small the Romans wouldn’t bother to conquer them. 

Do we care

I’m not sure. 

You stare at me and all you see is a blur. 

-K

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KK . KK .

That’s Life

There are two types of people 

Ones who cry

And ones who laugh

But there’s another type of person 

Ones who learn to laugh and cry

Because those people realize something 

Life is too complicated to be this or that

Life sucks sometimes 

And other times life kicks ass

You can feel like a king one day and lower than dirt the next

But it’s important to do one thing

Live like today means something. 

That this is THE day. 

The day that could be, 

that day where you figure it all out. 

And who knows

You might die. 

Some people go out on a sad note or a sour note, maybe even a bittersweet one. 

Why not a “you made it work” note?

After all...

That’s life. 

-K

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KK . KK .

Untitled (November 2nd, 2020)

It occurred to me that l did not know the true meaning of love until now. 

Love is not a word,

Not a place, an action,

Or even a feeling. 

But a person. 

One that makes you realize that you have meaning. 

More meaning than ever thought possible by yourself. 

You experience the pure moments of life. 

The joy a warm sun gives. 

The adrenaline of climbing the tallest peaks. 

The sorrow of loss,

Moments of hope dotted around days of endless rain. 

And of course the days where doing nothing is all that was needed. 

Love doesn’t end when the lovers drift. 

It doesn’t start with that first kiss. 

We all have loved since the moment we drawn our first breaths. 

We loved our mothers 

Our fathers

Sisters and brothers

Friends and the “more than friends”

Current and past partners. And the ones to come

Everything around us, we have loved. 

Because life, is love.

To love is to live. 

I suppose that’s why it hurts so much when love does die. 

-K

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KK . KK .

A Fool’s Pain

I feel everything and nothing. 

I wake up and want the release 

Of my own breath. 

And to think that I fear said death, 

A cruel joke from draconian gods. 

My eyes wash over seas of blank looks. 

Grayed out faces that lack depth, 

Like mannequins. Easily replaceable. 

Dead, piercing eyes. 

They fear the things I talk about in hushed tones. 

They say I frighten them. 

But by the next moment they all laugh with me. 

It is bittersweet to play the part of the fool. 

Which is what I do. 

To be the center of attention,

The one to help others deal with sorrow,

To brighten those gray days. 

The trade off is that the fool has no one to raise his spirits. 

To calm his storms. To comfort. To talk. 

But yet the fool carries on. 

Laughing through the tears.

Singing through the pain.

-K

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KK . KK .

A conversation with a rock

‘Hello’ I said to the rock

He said nothing. 

He sat on the hill. 

With the old willow tree shielding him from the elements. 

I sat with him. 

He said,

‘What do you see?’

I said ‘the horizon.’

He said,

‘Does it end?’

I couldn’t find an answer. 

He continued,

‘If it does end. Are we doomed to be disappointed with our ambition?

But if it goes on, are we doomed to be a failure by our own high expectations?’

I stayed quiet for a moment. 

I then asked, 

‘You’re a rock. How could you reach the horizon?’

The rock chuckled. 

He simply said 

‘I guess we’re both rocks then.’

-K

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KK . KK .

The Big Dipper

The Big Dipper

Do you remember that night?

When we sat under the stars. 

Holding each other close and tight,

Trying to find the way out of each other’s eyes. 

It seems like yesterday, but it flew by like a passing star. 

Do you remember when I said “I love you”? 

We found the Dipper. And you left the field, but I was still lost in your eyes. 

Do you remember?

It couldn’t last forever. 

The night became day

And it had to say goodbye, 

one last time.

-K

Do you remember that night?

When we sat under the stars. 

Holding each other close and tight,

Trying to find the way out of each other’s eyes. 

It seems like yesterday, but it flew by like a passing star. 

Do you remember when I said “I love you”? 

We found the Dipper. And you left the field, but I was still lost in your eyes. 

Do you remember?

It couldn’t last forever. 

The night became day

And it had to say goodbye, 

one last time.

-K

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KK . KK .

Birds

It all begins with an idea.

I woke up today 

But it felt like I was still dreaming. 

I saw the birds on the old tree

Singing their songs from years ago, And eating the bird seed. 

I saw one of them sitting alone

He was silent, not singing a song. 

He sat there instead. Weeping. 

But the other birds didn’t hear. 

I was the bird, you were the song. 

I woke up the next day

And the birds weren’t there. 

So why can I still hear their songs?

-K

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KK . KK .

To be a Cat

It all begins with an idea.

It must be fun to be a cat

One that sleeps all day,

To bask in the sun,

To have your belly rubbed and be fed well. 

It must be lovely not to be yelled at. 

To not be called annoying or selfish 

It must be a blessing to be able to relax. 

To be simple

To be free

I wish I was a cat

And that’s all I have to say about that

-K

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KK . KK .

Rain

It all begins with an idea.

As I sit here looking out to the empty void of a window. 

I can’t remember how I got here. 

The rain spills so fast from the skies that it looks like snow at first. 

But then I see all the gray in the world when it rains. 

All the mud, the faded grass, the overflowing black tar of the roads. 

City skylines now look like drab canyons made of old steel and iron. 

Houses built years ago sag into the earth as new families settle in and the old ones rock in their chairs. 

No animals come out to greet the passing cars, who move slowly with cautious drivers. 

Gripping their hands tight around the cheap leather wheels that controls the metal horses of the new age. 

Puddles form to become small oceans, parks become swamps for an afternoon baseball game. 

I stare at this void of rain. 

Wondering when it will stop. 

But then I see a daisy. 

Its white petals, like a long dress flowing in the breeze and dancing with the raindrops. 

Not a care in the world about the gray skies. 

Only waiting for the sun to poke out of the clouds and embrace it with warmth. 

Years later, I still sit by this window. And I still see that daisy, waiting patiently for that comforting hug. 

-K

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