Small Fry
I'm as free
as a parking ticket
torn by the breeze
no matter the paper
they'll stick it
to me
digitally
in gratuitous
additional late fees...
even if I make a break
in New Orleans!
They'll know
which Ma'dam
I'm hiding beneath
going so far
as to engage
CIA trainees
...but really
I am free
free to do it
free as can be
free to disregard
ethics, aesthetics
and social law
free as can be
if nobody
catches
on to me
07.04.20
Free as... challenge @Last
ice hearts
i’m as free as the heart that falls
like hailstones breaking apart
into ice shards plunging down as
acid rain dissolved into my skin
i’m as free as the words caught
in my throat waiting for the
night i’ll never see her again
hurting like salt on open cuts
i’m as free as the heart that’s
broken into ice pebbles she
crushed with her stilettos but
even then it felt like paradise
i’m as free as how i shouldn't be
thinking about her so i covered
my skin with ice splinters and
crystalized salt yet i feel hollow
i’m as free as the heart that beats
carving itself empty for the person
that broke it apart and in the end
the hailstones they'll melt away
- deathetix
Free Indeed
Free as a soul no longer bound by chains.
Though foes roam to and fro,
In strength and truth, the valiant prevail
Free as a soul pressing towards the magnificent light.
Though darkness forms round about,
The bravest shine, illuminating the abyss.
Free as a soul with no more fear.
Though the world threatens certain doom,
The enlightened hopefuls ascend.
Free as Mama Kitty
I saw Mama Kitty again.. what a beautiful big bubble of green light that her spirit was marching towards… Ali (my spiritual guide) said that means she’s doing good now. It brought me some sense of ease and peace.
She has always been a very troubled child, always need to voice her own opinion.
She meows and meows, until she got what she wants… A can of soft food, bursting out of door for some adventure, or seeking out some secret lover or lovers… Her independent opinions and rebellion heart only tamed a bit after her second batches of kittens—not even the first batch of five kids restrained her a bit from her rebellious nature. She would be gushing out of the front doorway, dragging along her big bugling balloon-like pregnant belly, on the very early morning when I was in the mid of hauling out my three luggages (on my way to the airport for a trip to China). I tried pleading her back in, while dragging my luggages behind, hunting her down the hallway, trying to catch her and bring her back. But she just won’t listen, running even faster, meowing loud and proud, waggling away with the bellyful of unborn five kittens, not even a little bit fear about her due date. “What if you ended up delivering the babies outside, on a cold rainy days, when I’m not at home to open the door for you? Or that you could not find food or nutritions in the middle of your labor?…” Listing out all my fears, chasing her from behind, but nothing daunted her high-spirit in seeking for all the fun things in the vast field of unknown: anything but my tightly cooped three bedroom apartment.
Last time I saw her waiting outside, was the night before we sent her away. She escaped again that early morning, before I was about to have my long day of work started. She stayed out all day playing, until late evening.
When I saw her at last, she was just hanging around the corner of neighborhood court-yard, maybe got bored playing with a giant palm tree, or just got done playing hide-and-seek with some neighbor kids, or some secret boyfriend, or maybe finally got hungry after a long day of play. She meowed extra loud that evening, following me down the hallway, step by step, climbing upstairs, till the front door. Just the same way how she followed me home when I met her the first time, out in the wild, a year ago: Apprehensive fear mixed with some air of uncertainty of her unknown future, intertwined with a stranger me, back then. But now, with a whole lot more confidence, impatience, demanding, complaining and scolding undertones in her meowing sound this time, as well as childlike love, affection and appreciation.
She’s a good kitty, even though I never gave her a real name. She never responded to any other name either, but the word “kitty”. So we just always called her “Kitty”. Later on, after 5, and then another 6 more kittens, we called her “Mama Kitty” instead.
Mama kitty, be free, be on your own audacious beautiful journey. May your spirit always stay free, and unbounded by anyone or anything, stay true to the very innocent child nature of you. And may you find your new friends, peace and comfort wherever you are right now. My beautiful orange soul Mama Kitty.
