tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22513460449357541422024-03-08T02:18:50.946-04:00The Real Katie KerrNo bells, no whistles. This is me—no strings attached.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-65519983695826233362012-08-05T19:56:00.001-03:002012-08-05T19:56:53.411-03:00an epigram"It is the responsibility of the poet to distinguish catharsis from art."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-71948770734620986642011-12-18T15:15:00.000-04:002011-12-18T15:15:59.371-04:00triptych<div style="text-align: center;">a day in summer<br />
rain in the morning the sun breaks free, transient rain has come again<br />
a warm and calming tempest vital, feverish but blossoms now are fleeting<br />
wind, a subtle chill it presses down, life and death cold is on the march<br />
pity the man who fights it.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-27931978248178154782011-12-18T15:01:00.000-04:002011-12-18T15:01:26.547-04:00on editing<p>"I decided that I didn't really want to be a writer anymore. I'm much happier tearing down the work of other writers, who are not as talented as I am, but also not as paralyzed. Any artistic frustration I have now, I just take out on them." – Josh, <u>Kissing Jessica Stein</u></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-26450780984345988192011-12-18T05:14:00.000-04:002011-12-18T05:14:27.144-04:00bile<p>These are the things, then,<br />
which we self-endowed gods must prize</p>
<p>above our own creations:<br />
Jealousy, Obsequity, Betrayal, Sin<br />
of any sort that suits our affected moods.</p>
<p>My bile is thicker than your blood.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-83773414160893114122011-12-18T05:10:00.000-04:002011-12-18T05:10:07.203-04:00haiku<p>buoyed in the street—<br />
monochrome chrysanthemums<br />
bound in a bushel</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-87977307172179368852011-12-18T05:04:00.000-04:002011-12-18T05:04:21.868-04:00halo<p>sidestepping broken bottles,<br />
she trudges homeward—<br />
high-heels in one hand,<br />
halo in the other.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2251346044935754142.post-72469762722675633492011-12-18T04:36:00.000-04:002011-12-18T04:36:21.457-04:00quote<p>"Poetry is the language of a state of crisis." – Ardath Whynacht</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08443641708928841968noreply@blogger.com0