Seeker Magazine

Katie Hoyme

The electronic mailbox has been receiving the output of quite a few poets lately. And Seeker readers will have the benefit. This month I had four people send in collections of their poems, all worthy of being included. Katie got it all together the quickest, with a short bio and sending in her photo (via regular mail), so here she is. As she says:
I'm an 18-year-old senior in a small town in Minnesota, and I've been writing poetry for about a year and a half. Composing music, equestrian competition, skiing, and watching movies are among my other interests. Some other things about me: I'm adopted, I smoke, I love coffee, and I love to dance. I hate opinionated, ignorant people.

I love writing poetry, because it is a drain for my feelings. It's a very important way for me to express how I feel. And, I'd like to add, that if it weren't for a special friend whom I love but have never met, I probably wouldn't have discovered my gift of writing. Thank you Tom.

Beautiful Bruises

How can I become lost
On a path I've walked so many times before?
How can things seem so different
When they are oh so familiar?

Sometimes, I feel betrayed
By the ones I thought loved me the most
Even though they stab me in my chest
I often wonder if it would have felt better in the back

I'm playing myself, like a deck of cards
Dealing, and dealing, and dealing
Never cashing in my chips
Never getting what I thought was mine to begin with

Dragging me, you laugh
As though you take everything in your world for granted
As if I'll always be here, always
Never to show my real face and scratch your perfect complexion

But why do I feel so guilty?
As if I'm to blame for every little nick and bruise
No matter how many times I shun your name
I catch myself calling it in my dreams

My head is throbbing with ideas, thoughts
The pain is unbearable and I'd like to give it to you
But you know I never would, never could
Hurt you again, as I have so many times before

So. With a slap on the ass
I choose a smile to decorate my face
And, just this one last time (as I've said thirty hundred times before)
I'll stand on stage and play my part ~ perfectly.

Constellation Surprises

At the time what I felt was real
Was only a practice punch

Feeling good doesn't always mean
Feeling right, right away

Given time, it would have fallen
And, I never would have been able to catch it

Should I hold you to my word?
Probably shouldn't. Probably will.

But "that's life" they say
Only to discover that too late

While driving through my past
I gave in to all my sympathies

Even though it was a cold dark night
I felt warm inside

The night I couldn't find Orion
The night I gave up

Doubtful Desires

Take a trip to my mind
And you'll be surprised to find
That in all my mirrors
There are no reflections of you

Should I change for you?
Re-sculpt my shoulders
To carry the load
Of your heavy burden?

Expectations fail by the minute
Only causing me to look harder
Flaws jump in my face-
Until proven innocent

You say people stare
Because they can't believe
Believe why I'd be here
Here to keep my shirt on

Just because you smell good
Doesn't mean I have to entertain
That's what clowns are for
Or maybe whores?

Rather not?
So you'd like to change channels?
Find something worthwhile?
I wish you the best of luck.

And when you're running
I hope you think of me.
Standing still
Watching you chase those fuzzy-blue rabbits

Because you do know, don't you?
That that's all you'll probably ever get.
Blue rabbits.
Not pink. Blue.

I won't laugh.
I'll keep my mouth shut
Like I always should have
Even when I wasn't talking...

Visit you?
When would that be?
For how long?
Would you bring your head?

I'd rather not.
Never.
Too long.
I doubt it.

Imaginary Turbulence

Now, tell me honestly-
Was it my laugh
Or the expression of my smile
That made you weak?

With you, it was your presence
How everyone's eye's would light up
How they'd all greet you
How you'd only look at me

I never believed you
Until now
I look back and realize you were true.
Oh so true.

A cautious woman I became
Trying not to remove my blinders
I stood there in amazement
And looked at the floor

You.
My little tickly eared baby.
Napping in my lap
Soaking up my caresses

I'd never look out the window
Only down at you
Fearing I'd miss a smile
Fearing I'd miss a dream

I'd grip the wheel and sigh
How could I be this happy?
How could I be this wrong?
I wasn't.

And I'd think of the new days
The new nights
As the trees swam by
Sneaking a glance here and there through the rain

I was the pilot of our minds
Steering us toward warm seas
Floral gardens
Brilliant sunsets

Remember when we hit that cloud?
I took my hands off the wheel for a split second
One moment was all it took
To pull the cords of our preservers

Now, when I'm flying through rainbows
And a deer jumps before me
I don't put on the brakes ~
I speed up

Welting Roses

The pretty flowers that you picked
Once so beautiful and bright
Now lie limp in their vase
Wilted and dead

To look at a rose, has once to be said
To cure all hopelessness and pain
Wiping it away from the face of the holder
All the while thinking of the giver

Not given as a motion of guilt
Not thought of as a product of pain
Not thought to die off
Not thought to lie in memory

Like flowers in December
So familiar, yet rare
I have to constantly touch
To believe

Only to find
That you're
Not
and never were
Really there

(Copyright by Katie Hoyme, 1999 - No reproduction without express permission from the author)

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Letter to the Author:
Katie Hoyme <hoyme@lkdllink.net>
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