In Geneva no one can hear you scream

Time is a tick of the mind

Where we once belonged

Has gone far away

Today

And now

Black smoke

Beautiful losers

A shout in the street

Start to fade

All that we made

Is born to die

A brief history of time

Obsession

Old lovers

Under freeway balconies

Nude naked and stripped

Secrets behind smiles

The horse would know, but the horse can’t talk

Rhapsodies in black

Documenting disposable people

Disposers

Exposers

Of

Ghost images

Ghost people

ghost world

Once Held together by water

But now Broken apart by man

Color box

Don’t ever let the adult you

Grow up so much

That the child you

Dies

Break out the box of crayons

(if you still have ’em)

Buy a box

(if ya don’t)

Turn off your mind

And just color like you did

When you were a kid

Free from worry

Free from judgement

Free from rules or beliefs

Our adult selves hold onto

For whatever reason we do

Free From the weight of all the things that over complicate our lives and waste our time and energy

Free to feel the excitement from the simple things again

Do this

And you’ll start to remember

the joy and love and excitement

You felt

As a child

All from a box of colored wax

And a piece of paper.

Bookends

Time it was

And what a time it was, it was

A time of innocence

A time of confidences

Long ago it must be

I have a photograph

Preserve your memories

They’re all that’s left you.

Selling everything I own

ART SHOWING. ART FOR SALE. EVERYTHING MUST GO!!!

Tomorrow I have an art show

Showing/selling new pieces and selling all my old pieces too. Everything for sale!!! Everything must go!!!

Check out my instagram @kyokocoleart

And email me kyoko.cole@gmail.com

if you’re interested in any of the pieces listed

Prices are negotiable. I also have prints of most for sale. Email me.

Amateurs (don’t take things or this so seriously)

thirteen ways to kill your lover
a hundred and one ways to die

Thirteen ways

To kill your lover 

A hundred and one ways to die 

It pays 

To be 

Cemented in your ways

Or does is pay to be 

Wild in the streets

Like a wild card 

Jump up jump around 
New York girls

Are too hip

As they hop

To the top 

of the Empire state building 

Which I don’t care to ever climb 

A Hot house
As Cold 

As your unbearable heart

Finish what you start, you say

As everything slowly starts to shift 

Deterioration, they said

Right before it was dead 

It was everything that ever was

That is not a thing any more 

That couple over there 

Kindly lent their owner

To the dogs 

Frequencies are 
Less frequently

Felt in the air 

The less we care

The more we 

Dread

The dead

That’s a coming

Round the bend 

So buckle up partner 

It’s coming to the end 

The perfect partner

Of An imperfect pair 

Doesn’t dare 

Taunt

The electronic wizard 

Or 

The human lizard

But will haunt 

The Spirit hunter

And the Catholic priest 

Who will soon sit down  

For the mighty feast 

And break some bread 

And both get fed  

The last supper 

Is a coming soon 

Blasted allegories
Blast past noon 

You are Not there

In the making

the making that never was 

Was never there within you

  Take me to the river 

Drown me in the water

Let it cover me up 

And Let my body sink low 

The more you say

The less you know 

Misleading 

Misreadings

Draw on you now

Like the raise of an arm 

And the hand that signals the alarm 

To wake up 

Wake up 

WAKE THE FUCK UP

Before it’s too late  

wait it already is …

-kyoko cole 2017

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a.d.w.a.y – (something i wrote exactly 4 years ago tonight)

a.d. w. a. y. ?

you would write a thing or two and

toss it a million ways around

the net-

-work

it’s way aross the many screens

i didn’t think twice

when it would

sometimes hit me

sometimes miss me.

but now i find myself missing you

you were lonely then

like me now

searching for something

that only exists with some people

and even some people have exhausted it

but you were sensitive like me

i could feel that between the static

i could feel that between the lies

the lies of life

we see

and run into

and

all i can think about right now

is the empty

and the space

the negative

the silent

on the memory of something

notifiations never-

tag my name now

no notes

no news

not

nothing

new

comes now

from you

you’re nowhere to be seen

please

come

back

my friend

you don’t know how much you mean

to me 🙂

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i used to write (i’m writing now)

finding the way through fears. finding myself and the freedom that comes from knowing thy self.

i used to write
my heart out
without any doubt
without any fright
but somewhere along the heartache and years
there seems to be a build up of unsound fears
that accumulate
in a frantic state
inside an emotional ride
takes me to the other side
automatic
erratic
sick and unfit
the only way out
is to move through it

be silent and still
and in the right state of mind
i find
myself
and know myself
better than to let
any thing or anyone
get
me down –
the truth is those things don’t matter to me
i matter to me
knowing myself is what sets me free
-k.c.

dalmur0091

the ghost of my friends

This is not a prison.

This is a trap.

I am the bait.

___________________________________________________________

Having balls is a good thing
having raw passion is a good thing and a rare thing.
To have both passion AND balls is what makes someone great.
I miss the great ones

I miss the lovers
and the dreamers/creators
I miss the artists
I miss the tortured souls- the poets…the journeymen …
and I mean the real ones
the real risk takers
the real love makers
the ones that do what they were born to do
unafraid of being who they really are
the ones that live for what they love
and the ones that love to love.
it has nothing to do with image
and everything to do with heart and soul
and pure being
I miss the truth in them
I miss their passion
I miss having them around
I miss them knocking at my bedroom window at 3am
driven by desire
driven by love
and…That feeling –
that wonderful feeling of hope and wonder
and the excitement in life and love
I miss the fire

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-kyoko cole  2008

in between the moon and you

we retreat now
you and i
are –
hidden.
for 
awhile

people in
shadows
we lay low
in the dark

can’t talk
to you
can’t talk to me
as it goes 
back
now 

like we are
like we were
like we sometimes
always seem to do

when time trips
and slips
and fades to
and through
in front of
and
sometimes always behind
me and you

we are like the moon
in retrograde.

-kyoko cole 2013

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LPOD-Apr19-09

Fire with fire

It’s okay to fall

How boring would life be without the waves?
All that really matters is if you are willing to ride it and how well you ride it

Bukowski said it better
“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire”

We are both fire
Burning ever-so-beautifully
Into the night
Into the day
And it’s always better to burn out
Than fade away ( thank you Neil young )

Tonight you leave me with a smile
And that’s pretty fucking great in my book. I love you for that.
Thank you 😉

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Black Velvet Sugar

BLACK VELVET SUGAR

The soft moss swimming;
It is the dying spirit.
Desiring, I hide.
Pink shore, serene breeze.
The flat, upright sparkle shines.
Lost moon, velvet spirit.
Walk, swim. Drown
With blunt leaves
Wither, decline. With sharp flames
Write, fade: fluttering.
Purple, tender, falling,
Your eyes sits in wait
A mermaid arises,
Declining, shining.
shines on
Forever
And Forever Shines on

-Kyoko Cole

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