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Mikey Kania

New York

Poetry

During a Walk Through the Woods

final option: exit in sight
shall i walk this way?

beza, eden and nicholas being in the room
my rootwords for what i consider family

final option: exit in sight
shall i walk this way?

while you are remaining in this room of memory
while nicholas is crying
while eden is sobbing
beza - dem kid's mother - being desperate

you know what beza?
we are akin to each other
like characters in sentences:
dots

unlike as the undertones of
exclamation marks and exclamation points

nicholas is crying
eden is sobbing
cause you guys are in another city
far away

you are writing:
"i have to protect the children"

tell me:

from whom?
from what?

calculate: how many fathers does a child have?
spell out how
man and woman
wife and husband

become able to defend and favor their
shadows lips lights and wishes
simultaneously

is there any meaning?
am i flaying my skin daily?

i am not a snake
i am darkness and light
like the rest of us
bizarre blillions made of
languages moral values religions

do i have to skin myself daily?
does this have to mean even a bit?

i don't know bambino
but i am sensing that we are ONE:

blood boomerangs bound
boomerangs bound blood
blood bound and boomerangs

the devil cracked our bound
he was grining and said:
"my lost son i am
looking at you: a man full of doubts

ain't no thang though
i am confirming on oath:
i will be getting rid of your doubts
colorfully
they will be gone

we just need a gimmick

hereby i am passing on the golden goblet to you
there is some stuff in it
to be found in lies and magic"

young jeezy (me ok)

harold hunter

falco (rock me amadeus)

ali

dmx (ny niggaz)

fassbender (angst essen seele auf, in englisch: fear is eating your soul up)

robin williams

benjamin von stuckrad-barre

whitney houston

angelina jolie

sigmund freud (are you aware of him?)

they were all drinking daily from the goblet
the list of my friends is long and enduring

some of 'em died
some continued to live
some decayed with numb limbs
in musty chambers
closed curtains

glossing ghosts above the head of
west indian archie
once a powerful gangster now a broke burnout

but this is one of many countless chapters
my son
ain't we good together boy?

i am confirming on oath:
i will be getting rid of your doubts
colorfully
they will be gone

successful people drink from the goblet;
they are in charge of their lifes
my son

the golden goblet is like heat in the coldness
the golden goblet is like cooling down in the heat of the desert

water
purity
nature and leaves
chemistry and magic

my friends are global
my friends are cosmopolits
by the time some lose the "r" on their path:
they become fiends

but this is one of many countless chapters
my son
ain't we good together boy?

all cultures
all religions
all languages

all my friends love the golden goblet
more than themselves
cause the golden goblet procures them

dear deception

all my friends don't love themselves anymore
but the golden goblet
all my friends don't love themselves anymore
but the golden goblet

devils hang out beyond rehab centres
they listen carefully to the
conversations of addicts
they want to figure out their weaknesses
analyze and exploit them

when the devil was flattering with his arms
high up in the skies
cheating god's position
between trees and lavish castles in bavaria a state of germany

while the devil was listen carefully to the addicts he was holding
the golden goblet under the moon's reflections thereupon

the golden goblet was ablazed with light
like a constellation superior to the earthly ghosts of weakness
the golden goblet sparkled

the addicts perceived it
as children perceive candy
as teenagers perceive the defeatable supremacy of grown-ups

they perceived the sparkling
as if you were listening to your favourite song

addiction is emotional
addiction is the blind quest for meaning

the golden goblet twinkled over the roofs of the bavarian rehab centre
and one of the addicts a young woman
was looking up into the blackness of heaven
frankly speaking it was sparkling everywhere

the woman suddenly thought:
i have twins
i worked as a prostitute
i am not permitted to see my kids

in deliverances she spoke:
"i was a whore"
"i have twins"
"i order precious clothes for them many times a week"

there was a sheen coming from the devil's
pupil
in the moment the addicted female was expressing her fate

we are sure: talking 'bout such a fate must hurt
so she continued talking to free herself

she said: "nut doc give me prescription... first i
don't wanna take dem sh*ts though
they called (...)
and dem (...)

"these pills" she proceeded with a shivering voice
"these pills ... be like gold"

her mouth opened widely as if she was hungry
golden sheen

her fate like wind
behind dem skies

a darkred eyebrow
purple nipple
bald head full of

holes scars blood

day one highlights a starting point
since then devil has been breeding horror:

not to mention the death of gökhan tatchouop
not to mention the death of alexander kania
not to mention when a mother passed away: t.z.

since the first day devil has been embroiled in torment
born from the fight of brightness and night
the creature awoke

only in darkness
hidden by the star's twilight
beyond distances
we recognize him

when he is far away from us
like glorified past

on earth though
he embodies the shape of human beings

to be between us
to expose our weaknesses
that's his guzzling his brew and his - blessing

our failing strenghtens him
he be muscle

our illness strenghtens him
he be tizight

The call for poems portion of NJ PBS's Addiction Crisis initiative is made possible by a grant from the Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation.

Each poetry submission in this site, and any statement or opinion expressed therein, is the work of its author, and does not reflect the views or opinions of NJ PBS. Some material may contain graphic content.