I See The Kite Flying
My toes interrupt the sand’s dance
The wind whips it into my eyes in revenge
My knees find comfort in the cold ground
Begging the waves to stop
They roar a humble hiss, taunting me
I’m whipped up like a misbehaved leash
The angry atmosphere births a colorful diamond
She seduces me
I reach towards the sky, gasping for life
Her tether appears in my left hand, unraveling
I scramble for the strings
They wave goodbye to me
Leaving her trace in red
My arches search for ground
While my eyes are gaping wide paralyzed
Mesmerized as she soars
Prancing in gray clouds not shaped like my shadow
The violins wail to her movements
The wind crescendos
The line crucifies my hand and my bones find ground
She floats away unscathed
Her strings circle around my neck
Growing tighter as the wind blows west
Her rope takes my last breath
And our world whispers free at last
If You Lived Here You Would Be Home By Now
In nature’s sonata even the faintest breeze brings me to you
As each rhizome of my being grows
Towards the direction of the sun
You paint me perfect
And sit staring at paintings
Claiming you don’t like art
Where’s Waldo?
I find myself in the geography of the state you’re in
Drowning when landlocked
Sunkissed by snow
Would you miss me if I did not miss you?
He says my eyes are greener than he remembers
My favorite color becomes viridan
I fear the hello and goodbyes January brings
Laying as the cat outside her door
Begging through tears of perfectly picked words
There is no soothing if I did nothing wrong
But I ask for them to play on the radio
So the song stays stuck in my head
I never craved toys just people
How cruel of you to take that away
Chained to the idea of an empty house
A fate of mine by clenching on too tight
I’m only four mom, I’m still learning
You walked toward the machine
Was that the kind of burning you meant?
When I’m in flames
It’s easy for you to look up at the sky
Content with mere existence and your unimportance
And how that leaves you at ease
Your ship rarely points to Huntington Bay
How are there no waves in your waters?
A barren tree
Looks like the one you know as my favorite
Worlds away
Where we hear the roar of the waves
A pine well formed
Resembling Rockefeller
History I dreamed about that fills you with disgust
So warped by the books beside your bed
I can’t write words of my own
The tree that shaded our movements
It used to have leaves
Haunted by the flowers in your mother’s garden
The pigments she chose to paint you
A hand on the back
Small brush by
When you know the snow and what that means is coming
ing
Cat Jamison is a first time contributor to Outrageous Fortune. She is a junior at Bucknell University pursuing an undergraduate degree in creative writing. As a native Long Islander, she often draws images from the surroundings of her beautiful hometown. In her poetry and prose, she casualizes extreme emotion and emphasizes the intimacy of the mundane.