los angeles – Page 11 – skin loves fever

stupid magic (or maybe it’s just the whiskey)

I get on quite easy
living life as a spy,
I’m a stupid kinda person.
what kind of a stupid person am i?
I like train spotting and breeding guppies.
i want to be like all the yuppies
in this town who pass me by
and never say hi

but when i’m left alone
I like to contemplate night.
When the feeling is never right
I start to daydream
about nothing and
everything
that only matters much to a stupid person like me

My mind turns straight to whiskey.
i might just love it more than night?
i just might drink myself to get myself right
i just might drink myself more stupid and start a fight
i love falling over and getting dirty hands
i love to use words like magic and psycho
and say things like “no one understands”
but when i stop my talking
that’s a when i start my walking
down to get my fix
and fill myself easy
with a mix of cheap thrill
i’m a stupid kind of person out for the kill

-kyoko cole
2015

Things we say

Running around in circles
Just like the rat
Saying
“I don’t need this”
And
“I don’t need that”
caught in a loop
That’s Caught in a cage
Spinning Round like a hula hoop
With a great full of rage

What you get
And what you expect
Is way too much
For as much as you
let
Down

but it’s exactly what you need
And it’s exactly what you seed
Out to the world
And all the people you meet
What you get is what you need
Even if you think you don’t

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.

charmless man

this song reminds me of someone stupid

“Charmless Man” by blur

I met him in a crowded room
Where people go to drink away their gloom
He sat me down and so began
The story of a charmless man
Educated the expensive way
He knows his claret from a beaujolais
I think he’d like to have been Ronnie Kray
But then nature didn’t make him that way

He thinks his educated airs those family shares
Will protect him, that you will respect him
He moves in circles of friends who just pretend that they like him
He does the same to them and when you put it all together
There’s the model of a charmless man

He knows the swingers and their cavalry
Says he can get in anywhere for free
I began to go a little cross eyed
And from this charmless man I just had to hide

He talks at speed he gets nose bleeds
He doesn’t see his days are tumbling down upon him
Yet he tries so hard to please he’s just so keen for you to listen
But no-one is listening and when you put it all together
There’s the model of a charmless man

He thinks his educated airs, those family shares
Will protect him, that you will respect him
Yet he tries so hard to please he’s just so keen for you to listen
But no-one is listening and when you put it all together
There’s the model of a charmless man

the last thing i’ll ever write about you

via burning of the midnight lamp- the owl of minerva: the last thing i’ll ever write about you.

in passing through the night
through the dark
it only takes a moment for you to pull me in—
this isn’t something i asked for
or maybe i did (long ago)
but i didn’t ask for you
and i didn’t want to feel this now
i’m thrown into this
somehow
and
i feel myself falling in
falling for
i feel myself wanting more
but tonight is the end
you know-this is where i stand
with my heart in my hand….
with my soul on my sleeve
it is now time for me to leave
– all i can do
all i can say
my words – my feelings
myself
will too soon fade away
this is the last thing i will ever write about you.

-kyoko cole 2008

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

-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

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 😉

Fuck off

If you aren’t true
If you don’t like what I do
If you feel the need to bark
At me –
some dumb little remark
Some passive yet aggressive way
to convey
What you won’t come out and say
And you wonder why I hide away
From all the people like you
Who do things like you do
Throw things my way
Chuck some fear and anger at me
Then try to be oh so sweet
But all it does it beat beat beat
Me down and beat me down some more
Until I’m less
Impressed
By your love hate mess
Some peoples love is abusive
Cause real love isn’t obtrusive
Is it hard for a man
To understand
Another persons state of mind
Or the other persons state of heart
I’m having a hard time As it is
Without you tearing me apart
Have a moment of doubt?
Sit with it like we all do
And ride the wave
No reaction can sometimes save
A person from himself
And a person from losing out
Just give love if you have it
And more love if you seek it
And more love when there’s no reason Not to
(Other than the fear and doubt inside yourself )
Allow love to show
And it will allow love to grow

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

Stained

Time press
Ink press
Pressure
press her
down
Under and pull one over on her
over head Of clouds

— Time stamp
Life stamp
tramp stamp
Stomp around
going Up and
COMING down
The disabled ramp
excuse me – i mean – the ramp for the disabled
We could be together
if we really tried
if you really wanted it to be
If you allowed it
and I would give it and you my all
If you let me

— But you won’t
And you don’t
And I’m not yours
And you are not mine
Now and
Forever always on
forever always gone

-kyoko cole