thoughtsbottle – Page 2 – Lauren Kathleen

February 4, 2020February 9, 2020

Made of Rain – A poem

I can’t touch the heart of the rain, it can only touch me
As it slips right through my fingers
Where a liquid hand can’t be held.
And the rain may have a beat but it’s too soft and quick
To be human and too rhythmic to be alive.
The rain never stutters or skips a beat
And I can dance in it but it can’t dance with me.
I can speak a soliloquy and pretend the rain is listening
But it can never confess a single secret back to me.
The rain may smell like a breath or a familiar comfort
But the rain is everything that has ever felt lonely.

January 21, 2020

Drunk on too much life – A poem

I have days lined up in bottles,
Hours pouring out the tap.
I fill glass after glass with minutes
And drink more time than can elapse.

January 12, 2020January 10, 2020

Costumes of myself – A poem

Maybe tomorrow I will slip back into an old skin
To be momentarily reacquainted with
A memory, for the fun of remembering.
I will cloak myself in a costume of my past self,
Playing dress up in a skin and a mind once mine,
And the wrong-er it feels makes my new self feel right-er.
I will close my eyes and ignore the ill-fitting
Tight squeeze, stretched straps, and snapped seams.
For in a dance of vivid recall I remember: this,
This is what it once felt like to be me.

January 8, 2020January 4, 2020

In Between Days (and other blackout poems)

These are a few blackout poems I have created, some recently and some from a little while ago. I like doing these when I want to write something but don’t want to conjure something from the depths of my brain. It’s also an interesting restriction to place upon one’s creative capacity, because there are only…

January 6, 2020March 20, 2020

I wonder how I look when I don’t quite look like me – A poem

I found you in a song the other day
And you’ve been stuck in my head ever since.
You hide in faceless laughs and sideways glances,
An illusion in the corner of my eye.
I think I see a flicker of familiar and then
You’re gone, lingering as a distant relic
Or existing in only two dimensions –
Frozen in photographs
Where I don’t quite look like me.

December 31, 2019January 4, 2020

2019.

A conversation with myself about 2019, growth and the perpetual state of transition.

December 28, 2019January 12, 2020

20 things I learned by 2020

Since the journey through the 20’s and my 20’s is about to begin, this is sort of letter to myself reflecting on 20 things I’ve learned over the past two decades of my existence.

November 19, 2019November 19, 2019

Green is not a creative colour | 35mm film

So! I’ve named this post ‘green is not a creative colour’ because literally every photo is green (apart from 2) and I’m beginning to think I can’t take pictures of anything that isn’t green. And I’ve been feeling a bit less creative and inspired with my photography lately, sooooo perhaps Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared…

November 13, 2019

The mind is a time machine – A poem

The mind is a time machine,
A look back upon our lives machine,
Think forward with our mind machine.
But there’s a difference between what you saw
And what you see, through a growing and different
Set of the same eyes.

November 10, 2019November 10, 2019

Sand and Sea in Black & White

I couldn’t help but watch the people lining the shore and the jetty, and notice all the individual memories being written as so many people gathered in a common place to leisurely live their lives. Everyone coming together to enjoy the water and the sun, but each group’s experience independent from the rest. People together, but apart, and soon to go separate ways and never to know if anyone happens upon the same place as any of those beach-goers again.