poet – Killian Levy Writes

Instaration #6

Look out the window,
Find a sign, find a face.
The stacks of well-worn sorrow
are paled against snow-dusted glass.

I hold my hand out to you,
Press the glass, feel my warmth.
Your home is much more than a hearth.

Spent the weekend in chilly St. Paul for Jingle Ball and stayed at the beautiful St. Paul Hotel. It had a very warm and old school feeling against the snow and biting cold of the city.

Just as I was packing for my flight to head home, I pulled open a drawer and saw their beautiful post cards and stationary. Well, I couldn’t help myself. I let my bag fall and pulled the chair out, reaching for my new pen (the one I had stolen from another drawer in that same hotel room earlier) and had to put something down.

This was a nice thing to add to the memory of my trip, so I think I’ll have to do something like this at more of the hotels I visit!

Spiders

Just a little Halloween inspired prose for October.

SPIDERS

Do I live among the spiders,

or do the spiders live with me?

I am not entirely sure,

Will you help make it clearer to me?

Humble in living, crude in thought,

I make the most of what I haven’t been taught.

I am the man in my castle, king of my hill,

but the spiders sit above me, hiding their will.

Night comes again and I slink into bed,

reminiscing and planning for a few days ahead.

From their webs they come down, crawling in droves,

but my eyes cannot see, for I am dreaming of groves.

They descend and tickle my skin with their legs,

my body jumps, shaking the bed from its pegs.

Jolted I wake, feeling and reaching to fight,

but the spiders have scurried off, giggling in the night.

It’s only the bites they leave, oozing and blue,

that makes me realize what I am to do.

Tis your webs of deceit, and your sharp little teeth,

that wrap around my soul and puncture my meat.

I shall wait silent in the night, looking for thine,

evil fucking spiders, your sins are now mine.

Do I live among the spiders,

or do the spiders live with me?

I’m still not entirely sure,

but killing you was curing to me.

Instaration #5

Her back to stone,
Her legs to roots,
She saw the heavens,
And turned to mute.
She felt the stars,
Caressed the light,
She rode the silence,
And began the fight.