Tag: kyla

by KYLA

Don’t think
Don’t speak

Don’t move.
Just sit on the leveled park bench.

Hear the musical notes blowing
along the chords of the violin.

Hear the finch’s symphony
as he reinvents Mozart.

Take your ears and use them
as guitar picks; so you can

experience the guitar’s thrashing melody.
Use them as a bow for the

world’s smallest violin. That way
you’ll see that no sound is too small.

Use them to ring each
bell in the choir of the bells.

String them up like puppets so they
can hear from a composer’s point of view

as he instructs an orchestra.
Seat them at the front of the theatre

so that sleeping beauty’s fatal gasp
rings in their memory.

Let them sink to the Titanic so
they can hear the song

of the blue whales.
Then, you’ll know how to listen.

by KYLA

Paris is filled with affection,
grapes, and small cakes.

Paris has a bunch of charming
French lawyers who constantly
debate about how much they
like you.

Paris is like a fair with
colors and sweet snacks.

Paris has chocolates,
sweetness and more.

Paris has fun and bunches
of buns.

Paris has more than what
we can bargain for. It is
so bright, and filled with
delight.

Paris has a mood to set
your heart on fire. To warm
your emotions and spark your desires.

by KYLA

Strawberry jelly is red like a heart,
sweet like honey and
thick like jello.

Strawberry jelly is the center of affection,
the yummiest valentine, the most colorful
dessert.

Strawberry jelly has the attention
span of a lifetime. It listens like a sweetie pie and
flirts, ‘til it makes you cry.

Strawberry jelly is kind
like a flavored red wine. Like a cherry
on an ice-cream sundae.

Strawberry jelly is a sugary
song on a sad violin, the
bass of a jazz band, the
beat of the heart.

Strawberry jelly brings
couples together on Valentine’s
Day, so that they can never
fall apart.

by KYLA

The darkened solstice and then there were none. All that you know is melted and gone.

The ashes of rain, the bloodshed and pain. The secret room, a palace of doom. The vertical blue, crystal tears and the heads of prisoners on a spear. The burst of seed, the hanging of greed. All fate is bound by the family tree.

Blood on the seal, the darkness arrives, world to appeal, an apocalypse thrives. Bound by a curse, it hangs by a thread, the fall of the mobsters, the rise of the dead. The honor of justice, the state of the free. All fate is bound by the family tree.

Fire in the eyes, and say your goodbyes. The scythe is swinging, you’re in for a reaping. The metal is hot, the warmth is sweet, forgive and forget or die and retreat. The symbol of love, family, tragedy. All fate is bound by the family tree.

The sky is dark, marked by futile cries. Love is lost as all light dies. The Alpha and Omega, beginning and end, a dark destiny holds, then good will ascend. Death is unavoidable, the cries and the pleas. All fate is bound by the family tree.

by KYLA

I want to write.
I want to see.
I want to understand.
I want to fly free.
I want to have a finch.
I want to smack the Grinch.
I want to see the world.
I want to see a hurricane swirl.
I want to live.
I want to be free.
But most of all,
I want to be me.