Poetry by K.Poet

Poetry By: K.Poet

{Halloween} {The year was 1987} {Chicago Snowstorms} {Cedar Swing}
{Crushing}
{ Back to K.Poet's Poetry Page }

Halloween

{ "Today is October 3, 1977. It is the first Monday of beautiful October.

This is the month of Halloween." My mother found this poem she stated wrote

as a child and decided to give it to me April 21, 2002. Shocked and honored

to receive this lost writing, I display it for you now. This to me, this is

the greatest act of kindness; my mother has ever shown me. Receiving this

priceless piece of my childhood touched me deeply not only as an artist, but

as her daughter. It has been a long journey for her to come to the

realization that people are born into the universe without instruction

manuals. One should not be molded into an image of another's perception.

This is illogical. One should find virtue and happiness within one's own

unique life pattern without alteration, or desecration of one's self-being,

or that of another. The hardest thing to do in life is to live it. That is

a daily challenge for the human soul. Living consists with the heartbeat of

life patterns that are an invisible woven structures connecting the body,

spirit, and mind of humanity working as a collective, yet displayed as

individual talent, and knowledge to be shared and learned from. Some things

are left to be a mystery, that's the whole point. Things are what they seem

to be. It's just that simple. Thank you Carol Johnson for this precious

gift, may you know how much this truly means to me. It is my hope that you

live the rest of your life enjoying happiness with one of the most gentle

spirits Karla and I have the privilege of knowing as well as loving: Al

Johnson. }

Halloween {Dedicated to Carol Johnson}

The moon is

Round as a

Jack-o-lantern-

The tree blows

Black and bare-

And

We go creeping

With spooky giggles-

Through the chill ghostly air-

Whose shadow is

That on the

Haunted ground?

Who's hiding

Behind that tree?

Oh!

Down the street runs

My bad black kitten-

And

The shadow is

Only me.

Kimberly A. Blanchette 1977

{The year was 1987} {Chicago Snowstorms} {Cedar Swing} {Crushing}{top of page}

The year was 1987

The year was 1987 {Dedicated to Dawn Bianco Pedersen}

The year was 1987

Spring-

Graduation-

"Great Balls of Fire"

Played on

My tape player-

From

The classic movie soundtrack

"Stand By Me."

It would be

Years later

Until I

Would finally

Figure out

What that meant.

Fox Lake

And

Grant Community High School

Dissolved into

Chicago's concrete creations

Columbia College-

Skyscrapers-

Gunshots-

Culture-

And

Change...

Change that would

Replace

A Small town track team

Conference medal-

Powder puff football games-

And

Red and white

Face paint-

Change that would

Replace

Fast food uniforms

Meaningless double dates-

And

Skinny-dipping

In the moonlight behind

Vacation Village

In what

Friends and I called

"The Lake of Truth"-

Change that would

Finally replace

Izod shirts-

Always

Izod shirts

Worn in layers

Like me-

Never revealing

All-

No more-

Silver Lake daytrips

No more-

Ford LTD speeding tickets

No more-

Sweaty bulldog mascot costume

For "Ms. School Spirit"

To suite up in

No More-

Local folklore legends

To test

Like:

The Hairy Man of Sunnyside Road

Mysterious Bull Valley Rumors

To find truth in

And

No More-

Parent to be frightened of...

"Great balls of Fire"

Played on

My tape player

The day

I left

High School-

And

Would have

No idea

That I

Would see

That poster

"Stand By Me."

Her

Dorm room-

A shoebox room-

Filled with photos

Friends and family

And

Black and White

Calendar

Ansel Adams-

Her name:

Dawn Bianco

Things are not always

Black and White-

The year was 1987-

Fall-

Columbia College of Chicago-

The Herman Crown Center-

Lake Michigan

Begged for my visits

Between

My art classes

And

Chaos-

At times

Was one

With that lake

Became a sea

To wash my thoughts away

Concerning

The man from West Point

To whom

I was to marry

And

My unquenchable desire for

An Italian woman from Chicago's suburbs

To whom

I was intrigued by.

Michael Papp's

Departure

Would become

Relief.

It was

Key to Freedom-

Through

Reconciliation

And

Restructure

I found myself-

Opening up

Slowly

Peeling off

Those

Izod shirts

One

After

Another

And

Looking into the mirror-

At myself

I saw

A whole person-

For

The very first time.

The year was 1987-

Fall-

Chicago Hard Rock Cafe

And

An Italian woman

Who

I met in

An elevator-

These events would change

My life completely-

It was her-

It was

Dawn-

And

For months

Upon months

A Disney blue corduroy baseball hat

With

Red stitched lettering

And

My father's long green worn army coat

Would hide

My love for her-

So many memories

Flood

My mind:

The Depeche Mode Concert-

Crazy Photos of us-

"Our night out"

Ed Debevic's-

Dawn wearing

My black bomber jacket-

Lots of laugher

So much laugher-

Two sailors

Tried to score

But

Miserably failed-

And then

Weeks later

A Pact-

An Exchange-

Blood

And

Friendship-

From a small cut

In our hands

Placed together

To become

"Blood Sisters."

Nights of watching

China Beach-

And

My endless imitations

Eddie Murphy

Things are not always

Black and White-

The year was 1988

Winter-

Chicago's Gray slush snow-

Domino's Pizza-

And

Watching the

Winter Olympics-

Acting Class skits

With

Green m&m candies-

Flirtation-

Frustration-

A dish called "Fiesta"

Sizzling in her

Forbidden popcorn maker-

And

Vague art and photography classes that

Weren't't as colorful

As our immediate life-

Weekend retreats

At her invitation-

Riding "shotgun"

Her father's Corvette-

And

Her Mother's MR2...

The Herman Crown Center-

It was

Within

The Winter of 1988-

That I found

My heart beating wildly

Next to hers

The Windy City

Introduced me

My first love:

Dawn-

Late one night

Outside her dorm room-

Her lips

Met mine

Leaving me overwhelmed-

Leaving me speechless-

Leaving me aching-

And as

I fell

Into

Those soft brown eyes-

My cousin Philip

Also

Plunged.

Life has its complications.

Things are not always

Black and White-

Philip

Who I admired-

His

Playboys

I stole

And

Dismantled-

His

Charm

I wish I had-

Met Dawn

Through me-

A wonderful marriage resulted

As well as

Two incredible children-

The year is 2002

We email

We talk

Of life and relationships-

Through laughter

And

Tears-

We still

Understand each other-

We're family now-

We've grown

From our experiences-

Foolish things were

Said and done

In our college days

Stealing a stop sign

And

A security guard's hat

Dine and Dash

Jimmy Wong's

And

Going To

Boy's Town-

Christopher's Street-

From

Rick's friendly persuasion-

To see

Male strippers-

Which

I hardly noticed-

For all

I saw was

Her-

She pretended

To be my date

It was a mutual thing-

But

Holding

Her hand-

Feeling

The soft crevasse

Her palm-

Whispering

In her ear-

That

Was not fiction-

That

Was the night

Dawn Bianco

Stole my heart.

Kimberly A. Blanchette (5-2-02)

{Halloween} {Chicago Snowstorms} {Cedar Swing}{Crushing}{top of page}

Chicago Snowstorms

Chicago Snowstorms: (Dedicated For she whose maiden name(Bianco) translates

as: "White" in Italian: For Dawn Pedersen. This is how I saw you at age 18.

Now you can look through my eyes and see exactly what I saw. I was an

artist, you were a photographer, but these images could not be captured by

either medium of expression. That would come years later in the form of

these words.)

Chicago Snowstorms

I think of you

With

Winter snow

Melting

Against heated skyscraper windows-

Smooth flawless

Looking through

The glass of

Time

Clouded are

My past romances-

Yet-

Some are as vivid as

Last night-

Some are wounds

That have healed

And yet

Still -

There are some

That are embedded

In my soul-

These has never

Been born-

These are lava-

Churning inside me

Bubbling-

Hot-

Explosive-

Eternal-

I think of you

With

Winter snow

And

Rough winds

Howling fiercely

Against the urban shores

Lake Michigan

So young

Was I

Such a naīve-

To life's mysteries

To love's pain

To a woman's silent seduction-

With each soft pedal

A touch of silk

Became

Wilted -

Fading-

Dissolving into

The hard cracked pavement

Of my heart-

Lost in the urban streets-

I wandered-

As shadows do

Connected to

The physical thing

In which their image

Binds

And yet

Is separate-

But

Found was

A delicate flower

Whose name

The color of springtime

Whose name

The virgin goddess of my awakening spirit

Whose name

Moonless nights over Italy, Rome and Greece,

Whose name

Sappho's written word of an everlasting kiss

That only poet's can feel through their work-

I think of you

With

Winter snow

Covering

A part

A frozen dream world

Captured in time

In which we still dwell

Entangled

In the enchantment

Of each other-

Free from

Labels

And

Politics-

There we

We sleep

Close enough

To see

Each other's sacred dreams

Close enough

To hear

Each other's unspoken secrets

Close enough

To feel

Each other's comforting touch

Without touch itself-

A Dream within a dream-

And

How I wanted

You back then-

In the core of

My youth-

With such

A searing passion

Kept me awake

For days on end

Saturating my mind

With

Erotic images

Of you-

Blinding my eyes

From everything else

But

The importance

Of you-

The Delicate flower-

Who

Consumed

My every thought

As the Sun

Consumes

Each

Tiny flake

Of cold white

Crystallized perfection

On a cold winter's afternoon-

Years

Later

She

Still

Reminds me

Chicago snowstorms-

A white magic

That softly covers

My heart

As she

Did

Years ago.

Kimberly A. Blanchette (June 7th, 2002)

{Halloween} {The year was 1987}{Cedar Swing} {Crushing}{top of page}

Cedar Swing

Cedar Swing (Dedicated to my Karla. Thank you Karla for the lovely cedar

swing. True wealth is that of the spirit, mind and body, but without heart,

nothing. You are my heartbeat of life eternal. Your love is the breath that

fills my lungs every day.)

Cedar Swing

The green green grass

Grows beneath

The cedar swing

Eagle Talon driving

At the speed of light

Sunrise of kisses

And by a gleam

In her eyes

She becomes

Earth

Water

Fire

Air

Sunset into

The Heavens

To become

Angel's wings

Gliding

To me

On springtime air

Flower's fragrance

Birds of song

Language of insects

Become part

Of the

Melody

Welcome

Her arrival

Into

My arms

Waiting so long

To love

Her

And

Hours

Flash

Into minutes

For a sweet

Wine kiss

Sugar, and silk

As we

Sit

Laughing

Sharing

And

Watching

The green green grass

Grow

Beneath our feet.

Kimberly A. Blanchette (May 17 2002)

{Halloween} {The year was 1987} {Chicago Snowstorms}{Crushing}{top of page}

Crushing

Crushing (Dedicated to Karla Kaye Kruizenga: May you know how the fire burns

within me, as I wanted you this morning before work, but thus I must wait

until nightfall. That stirred this playful scenario. Just for you my love,

just for you.)

Crushing

Beneath the skin

Tender points-

Sparks-

Crushing me

Not

Pain

But

Pleasure-

As if rolling

Secretly

Downhill destination

The bed of grass

Tests me

Welcoming me

To daydream

And still

Beneath the skin

are these

Little reminders

That

I must endure

The passage rite

Into adulthood

But the adolescent

of a young woman

Remembers

What it felt like

Thinking

Of the one

Who is

Crushing

Her-

The nervousness-

The entanglement

Of eyes-

The laughter

Of seduction-

The innocence

Crushing

Beneath her-

And

Then

Tickling

Becomes Kissing

As we become

Lost in each other

Crushing

within

The bed of grass

Now matted

From Youth.

Kimberly A. Blanchette (NOV. 1, 2002)

{Halloween} {The year was 1987} {Chicago Snowstorms} {Cedar Swing}{top of page}