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Kailashana
Kailashana
Jan 22, 2010 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

the bone collectors

Insufferable misfits on a dank, grey day
we are fastidious bone collectors,
collect the marrow of life,
leftovers from days uselessly spent
arrogantly conceived

greedy vultures, ravens and crows
flocking
to images of ourselves,
poems we leave
in places where only shadows grow

to reach the likelihood of love's sweet touch,
indelible ink stains
our whispers in the world
we leave behind.
dark secrets
lurking
under the breath
we kiss into being.

"Even the world has grown silent.." she said.
He said "I need to fill you."














— Kailashana, Jan 22, 2010

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Seren

Seren

16 years 4 months ago

jesus christ we did it again

jesus christ we did it again sort of lol I wrote about something similar again too ... applause dear one love and millions of hugs Jayne x x x
Seren

Seren

16 years 4 months ago

who would dare is more the

who would dare is more the question hahahaha ;) love you mum and I am dancing sunbeams at your happiness you know love you Jayne-Chloe x x x
hugo la rosa

hugo la rosa

16 years 4 months ago

Dearest Kailashana:

The poems we love belong to us, only said under the breath of another who, like us, is also shedding every single lie, every wasted word towards the sincerity of a clamoring Self. This is the beauty I encounter more and more in the advancing little transformations of one of my favorite poets. Thank you so much. Sincerely, Hugo
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 4 months ago

Without the facing of our

Without the facing of our own truths, our own frailty, incongruity and duplicity, we can not take the next step... and always there are next steps... Love to my favourite Peruvian. ;-) ~A
O

Orphani

16 years 4 months ago

There is so much truth

There is so much truth locked into these few lines, it's a little scarey. We poets are destined to be the watchers of life, especially our own,we dissect the shadows and our passions. We feel life with an acute vibration like a tuning fork then we hold them up to the world.The last two lines belong to us and the world.Exquisitely beautiful, expressive, and honest in it's meaning. We
Nordic cloud

Nordic cloud

16 years 4 months ago

Gnawed and masticated by gaunt birds,

Them bones, them bones they rattle, their marrow the shadows inside, gnawed and masticated by gaunt birds, pools of blood, sweat, screams, silently uttered behind the screens of life's surrogate dreams, You are fearless Anna, my sister in crime. Ann
xena465

xena465

16 years 4 months ago

My thoughts on your thoughts

What springs to me in this poem is the selfishness of how we can be at times. I like the first verse very much which began with my interpretation of what I read. Probably got it wrong. With these sophisticated poems I have to dig deep into my own mind to find yours. As my poems are simple, but I believe good and effective and easy to understand for all readers. xena465
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 4 months ago

I think by the time we

I think by the time we become poets, we agree on many things... the preciousness of life and truth, for instance. The right for all people to be who we are, albeit with a consciousness of *do no harm*. We just say it in our own unique ways. That's all. Love, Anna
WF

Worldwide Freeride

16 years 4 months ago

Osteoporosis is setting in me....... o.o

Hi Kalia, In some dark and dank cover I imagine you busy hurling that pen like a javalin at the page and your ink freckled features glean in fevered immolation of thoughts that burn the very words up on the page. The thing for me is that no matter what anyone has written it is always a personal personification of their feelings, thoughts or imagination... usually deeply embeded in the root of all of us in some way or other. We all have to be who we are and this is just a form of release for writers and for that reason has a special place, and for all those who can connect with what is written, even if it is our own interpretation. Wrapped in those realms we often block the world so it may well fall silent... but only to our ears... Very deep from me, I can be boring like that sometimes lol! Good write Kalia! Dale :)
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 4 months ago

Thanks for reading Dale,

Thanks for reading Dale, love your tree-ness. ;-) You just brought up an old memory of a friend, quite a bit older, a tough ex marine, with whom I shared a few tokes in 1972ish (his first--poor guy, he thought he was dying). The vernacular was *kookie* and hence a simple little poem: Kookie Kookie? Am I not a little like you or the way you would want to be if only you were able to be you, a little more, a little less than free? I thought I heard you say you love me, embrace me hold me stronger a little longer, don't watch the watch, a capture time, keeping you from being free and Kookie. Time... How much time do we have to be ourselves? ~A
B

bjp

16 years 4 months ago

Dear Anna,

Well, pretty good poem, eh? Congradulations, Anna! Brian
Kailashana

Kailashana

16 years 4 months ago

All in all… just another

All in all... just another brick in the wall. Pink Floyd (And a decent poem, ty dear Brian.) ~A "What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others and the world remains and is immortal." Albert Pine