Poetry

Rose Petal

...and so the rose petal gently drifted to the ground... slowly... quietly... unnoticed and without a sound... the gentle crescent of a simpler life... lost in a world beyond what exists... he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not... a drifter... a dreamer... not incomplete yet not whole... what paradox... what thoughts... such grasping for an understanding of that which can never be understood.

- K.C. 1995

Water Droplet

A simple reflection of the World that we know in a manner we do not see. t l t i tnangle iw T st the neck and we cry out how the World is familiar to us - upside down! The droplet laughs at our simplicity and drinks in its own personal splendor. The rounded end of a joyous baker who has eated too many of this own treats. The narrow head of a lazy whipped cream topping who cannot decide whether to melt down the sides or not. Sparkling, shining, smiling in brillance. The baker grows fat from the lick of his whipdashing whipped cream and the droplet f a l l s with the grace of the loveliest of swan dives as the applause ri p p l e s around the disappearance of the dropleft into the awaiting waters below. The applause fades into the silent stillness of the simple peace that existed before in the World that we do know.

- K.C. 1995

Singing for Me

The voices sing like they're singing for me
     They're singing like they know me
     They're singing like they know me
     They're singing like they know my wishes
                                    my questions
                                    my needs
             singing like they can reach me
             singing like they know how to make me feel
But they're not singing for me.
They never were, they never did -
And they're not singing for me now.
They were always just singing for the listening one
Well today, I am a listening one
And I'm a make-believing one too.
I'm make-believing like they're singing for me
             Just like you used to sing to me.

- K.C. 1998

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