Kira A

«all the darkness out, all the colors in»

16 notes &

London Talking

London is a name fixed in the yellow of a post-it
Thinking of Thames pushes the gaze
Somewhere else
In my case to the left, upwards
Acting cool
It’s where I stretch my fingers, where I
Hang on to the linen
[Of memories]

London is my ear lobe that keeps bleeding
Cotton wool pressed by my fingers and
The smell of lime in this room
Tracks of piercings I have never seen
The trail of a scar for you to lick

Of London thinks
My hair that is much too long
London is “Tell me about London that you can’t explain”
And “no more queue to know about Jack?”
A worn out pendant that makes my teeth chatter
But I stand still, you say:
“To a spirit like yours”

Then London
Is squares too narrow
You and I walking, I kissing you
And “I can’t keep you inside here anymore”
And “Maybe I know why I’m so sad”
And “What is that you fear?”
I fear
Of wishing

So if I am London, you
Are Piccadilly and Soho glimpsed from a postcard
The blazing colors, grey prevailing
Rain varnishing the double-deckers
I, saying: “When I’m with you, snow is all around”
“Is it a bad thing?”
“No, it’s not”

And again London catches me sighing
I always hear doors closing
I still feel throats slashed
And “I feel my things are mute on the ground”
And you say: “How small can you be?”
As the doll
Of a doll

(Source: mechanicalkira)

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1 note &

The Smells, by Kira A

Poethead is a beautiful project by Christine Murray, devoted to increase the visibility of poetry written by women.
I submitted The smells to her and I’m very happy to announce that she published it. 
My poems are accompanied by the astounding illustration Monna Lisa Forni drew for me.

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10 notes &

Your hunger broke us & I broke you in return

(0001) I saw you passing by
Hiding behind a window
I was happy to see you
You weren’t there for me
(0002) Like a lamp in
Full daylight
I was unseen
Now I had to make
Your sky darker
For you to find me again
(0003) My nerves were shot
I didn’t know what to do
With you anymore
(0004) More and more transparent
(0005) You thought that since you had built me
You could now fully dismantle me
(0006) You are growing thorns
(0007) Do not speak
(0008) You taste like plastic &
It’s getting darker
(0009) I’ve been exiled
(0010) Consuming is the process
Of pouring words into you
Letters sliding along the smooth
Surface of the glass that you
Have become; letters
Slowly reach the ground
& Form a small puddle
(0011) You are an answering machine
I am starting to miss the point
(0012) You managed to eradicate me from myself
(0013) I trusted you in the process
(0014) Seeding; filling every single vein of mine with
(0015) You
Are everywhere
(0016) Am I running out of bandages?
(0017) Your words hang from these walls
Like painted phantoms
(0018) Do I still exist?
What have you done to me?
(0019) You are one step away & I can’t move
(0020) You forced me to observe as you unravelled it all
(0021) Feeling uncomfortable inside this wound
(0022) Please stop hiding bombs in every flower you give me
(0023) You keep playing hide & seek
(0024) Your eyes are white and empty as you
Laugh & run - I see you:
Everything is in your hands and
You are always so scared
(0025) I can invest my time better
(0026) Throwing myself in the mastodontic process
Of surgically removing you from my fucking existence
(0027) Whoever said ghosts do not change 
Never witnessed the evolution of mine

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83 notes &

Jellyfish

You are sitting with your family for lunch. They
Are talking, passing food, laughing and you are watching them
Through the glass of your corneas. You watch them while you are
Busy keeping yourself afloat; you are floating and wondering why
There’s no jellyfish all around your head, and it amazes you that oceans
Are not silent as you thought they’d be. It amazes you that you are able to
Smile and nod and breathe and pretend you are paying attention when all you
Are thinking is how to keep your feet still, your hands from shaking, your legs
From leaving the room, so you cross your arms and smile again.
When you watched Pacific Rim you thought it was about the way you inhabit
Your own body, like wearing a dress you don’t fit in, like having so much room
Inside your empty spaces that you take a lot of time just to say
Hello, because it’s a long way just to reach your mouth and speak up.
You think nobody could ever understand what all of this means.
In fact, for a very long time, nobody will know.
Let me tell you what’s going to happen to you: someone will hold you like you
Mattered; they will hold you like you are precious, and they will kiss your cheek
Firmly. They will press their lips on your cheek and make it last for two seconds.
When you two will part, you will start to shake. Now, listen to me carefully:
You won’t shake because they matter. You will do it because
This is more affection than what you had in a lifetime. You will be
Overwhelmed because you are not used to be held like that
And you are desperately hungry.
You will shake because it hurts.
You will question the extent of your damage
And think it’s worrying but there’s a detail you’ll fail to
Notice: for two whole seconds you haven’t thought of the oceans.

(Source: mechanicalkira)

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2 notes &

quotingravens asked: I love "Jellyfish". Such beautiful visuals. You have a new fan.<333 Check out my blog too, yeah? I write also.(:

Thanks. I will :)

Filed under quotingravens

22 notes &

Labyrinths

Stranger
Sometimes I think I
Want you so bad that even if I was
Never capable to call you mine, it would
Still be Ok; because wanting you is the
Sweetest torture one could ever
Imagine, in fact it is: out of
Imagination, far from control and
Absolute like a blaze in
A cold winter night.
Stranger, I have built so many
Labyrinths of letters just for your
Pleasure, and you have always
Followed me there because
There’s nothing in this world you
Love more than losing yourself
However: what you
Don’t see is that
Words are my
Hiding place
And it is by
Following my
Trail of letters that
You’ll never be
Able to find
Me, so:
stop
it.
Come
And seal
My lips with a kiss
Find me, so I will stop
Running away from your ways
Because this time I want you
To lose yourself under my
Skin, deep inside
My body.
Stranger, let my fingers
Trace new fables
Over your spine
Let my hands
Reveal my secrets
Let my eyes build more
Castles than my words will ever
Do, because my body is my
Finding place and
This time
I want you
To finally
Reach
Me.

(Source: mechanicalkira)

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58 notes &

The smell of rum

Third time on UUT Poetry. :)
If you are into surrealism, follow them!

uutpoetry:

mechanicalkira:

All is well except
That the wall is made
Of perspex, transparent
And her wings hit against it without
Making any sound
While
The rift she treasures on her sternum is
Cicatrizing under the sun at seven o’clock
In the morning, while
The smell of flowers is piercing through the path of cold and
The smell of rum, the memory of the stolen candle, twenty
Meters running under the pouring rain, inside
My ears, the city is swimming in
The dark
And it’s ours.
Dismantled.
It hurts.
The taste of the broken tooth, the
Badly stitched dream, and no need to say it:
the waiting.
While the hand is pushing, the shouts
Are drawing strange vortexes
Under the hair and
The air continuously recycled
Is ingesting
Massive amounts of
Darkness
As
You advance
Defying the butterflies
Adjusting your heel
From time to time.

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45 notes &

automatic geometries

a contradiction contracted in
lowest terms are
you.

[it’s metal edges]

your beauty is
of
a
garden
(suspended at mid-
clouds), to enter
and

to say

that in such a
variety of
flowers
there
can not
be
one that
attracts
you

to pick it

to dismantle it
and
to
neglect
the
rest.

[it’s plasticized segments]

you know how to
quickly imprint
yourself
on me

when

you laugh
at times
and
conversely
you weep
and

you are like

those skies
that shake me
to my core

when

they are
blinding
on one hand
and
violently bleak
on the other

so

clearly
fractured
they shake
me pierce
me
pierced
i am
by

you.

[it’s just thinned points]

imagine if
a chameleon
started
to
acquire
each
gradation
of
another
creature
in the form
already
similar
to
it:

where
could
he
ever
escape?

[it’s inconstant semicircles]

(i can not
delineate
you
it is like
sketching
a tidal
wave
nobody
can:

painters

invent them)


[and it’s shoved arches]


i’ll tell you
of
a
woman
her soul
shattered
and

subsequently

imprisoned
splinter by
splinter
in hail
stones

she

fell
and
she felt
herself
crashing
at the same
instant
millions
of times

however

she
never
went
insane.

[it’s torn curves]


(and I know well
how a continuity
interrupted
succeeds
to make
you
fumble
convulsively
but it’s not
enough
for me to
restrain
myself
don’t
ask
me
to)

[it’s petrified vertical axes]

what i see
is
a cross
section of
enclosure
handfuls with
disconcerting
efficiency
consisting
of prisms
and

you know how to decompose

yourself inside
an innocence
delimited
you proceed
by inconstancies
you lacerate
metabolizing
you struggle
silencing
and

i could
only
teach you
one thing:

gray is not
a faded
version
of
black.

(Source: mechanicalkira)

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2 notes &

Anonymous asked: congratulations on making that poetry blog :D your poetry is awesome and deserves the recognition, even though poetry isn't about recognition--i just mean i'm glad that you're one of the poets who gets published ^_^

Thank you very much. This is making me smile :)

Filed under nice anons who keep your heart warm Anonymous

4 notes &

The Smell of Rum by Kira A

I’m very pleased to announce that I’ve been selected for Issue 18 of Bare Hands Poetry.  :)

barehands18:

All is well except
That the wall is made
Of perspex, transparent
And her wings hit against it without
Making any sound
While
The rift she treasures on her sternum is
Cicatrizing under the sun at seven o’clock
In the morning, while
The smell of flowers is piercing through the path
of cold and
The smell of rum, the memory of the stolen candle, twenty
Meters running under the pouring rain, inside
My ears, the city is swimming in
The dark
And it’s ours.
Dismantled.
It hurts.
The taste of the broken tooth, the
Badly stitched dream, and no need to say it:
The waiting.
While the hand is pushing, the shouts
Are drawing strange vortexes
Under the hair and
The air continuously recycled
Is ingesting
Massive amounts of
Darkness
As
You advance
Defying the butterflies
Adjusting your heel
From time to time.

http://mechanicalkira.tumblr.com/

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