you be my escape
for my sense of security
and i’ll be your plan
for your spirit of adventure.
together we’ll scale the map
with our wings of wonder,
-kristin l. cook
Tag: Poetry
Twisted X’s
i’m like lightning,
a flash of paradise,
i won’t strike
the same place twice,
let my memory burn,
let it singe,
when i light up the sky,
it’s the only time
you’ll see me again
-kristin l. cook
Metalwork
Metalwork, Swordsmithing, and Blacksmithing are all in the same realm of craft. It’s a long process of forging metal using a hammer, grinder, heat, and cold. The heat is used to make the metal flexible and the term is called “Tempered”. The cold is to harden the metal, the term is called quenched. One way to tell if the sword is complete is for the flame to essentially polish the sword, so much so that the Blacksmith can see his own reflection on the metal inside the flame.
You’ll call her wild,
she’ll call you play.
You can have a body of iron,
and she would forge you her way.
You need patience of a blacksmith,
to convince her to stay.
She can seduce you with silence,
and allure you with violence.
She’s a double-edged sword,
her mind won’t be ignored.
Tempered by the fire that excites her,
when the heat ignites without shame,
and only when you see your reflection
in her erratic flame.
A man with a craft is who she’ll claim,
but don’t forget she has sharp edges
that you polished the same.
You quenched the blade,
that forced her spirit cold
and her soul betrayed.
The weapon is for bloodshed
because her love for you was misled.
She would carve your veins
if you left her heart broken in chains.
– kristin l. cook
Ishq Perspective
If retaliation is known as
“an eye for an eye will make
the whole world blind,”
I pray peace live within your
physical body and if I shall
bestow one wish,
I wish for you to fall in love.
Because a heart for a heart
is the ultimate revenge.
Where love is viewed as a
manic curse, that enables a
sightless life, sequentially
resulting in self-destruction;
the same bane I inherited,
when I loved you.
– kristin l. cook
My thoughts leading into Ishq Perspective:
Contemplating the difference of love and revenge. Scaling the conflict of passion and religion. Wondering why lust is an addiction and adoration is essentially self infliction.
And if you’re wondering,
“ishq” is an Arabic word meaning “love” “passion” or “to love without lust”
Whiskey Fever
You gave me Whiskey Fever
and cared for me at leisure
I take a sip,
and toast to the ghost
of our relationship
The bourbon is savored
on my tongue,
but your memory bites
as I swallow
then cough up a lung.
I drink it down,
because your love isn’t found
Your absence is what
causes silence to be so loud.
– kristin l. cook
Poker Face
If only my eyes could show
the rapid beat of my heart.
Then you’d understand
the power of my mind
and the poker face I designed.
You could look into the glass
and see my unguarded past.
Yeah, if only you could see
the beat of my heart
You would find my sincerity
and learn that it’s you
that is my vulnerability.
– kristin l. cook
I saw this painting from Andrew Salgado and “Poker Face” basically composed itself.
7 Year Itch
I felt the adrenaline in my veins.
I’ve seen the rage in my eyes.
I’ve smelled the fear in your lies.
You stood like a coward
defeated by the demons you empowered.
You may have chose our path,
but I embodied my wrath
with clinched fists and a firm voice
“I hope you rot in hell” was my choice
I smiled with dignity,
set fire to the mystery,
as I drink from my glass of victory.
Redemption with Authenticity.
– kristin l. cook
Based on my true story
Provocative Games
She starts with a kiss
seduction across her lips
Passion in her eyes
leaving you paralyzed
Silently tortured by temptation
her body has no hesitation
Manipulation on her mind
but she’ll move on
and leave you behind
Her heart’s been broken
too many times.
– kristin l. cook
Echt Moments
my mind is in two places like where
the moon meets the sun. I watch the
light ripple across the water and
count the stars one by one.
A nostalgic memory is where I run.
A beautiful moment too loud for a
whisper and too quiet for a gun.
-kristin l. cook
Love Is Blind
Desperation caused her to
search for truth, stumbling
across false words and bad intentions,
she became drunk on your lies,
and intoxicated on your lips.
She binged on your breath,
and trembled at your tongue
so vulnerable to heartache,
but the closest thing to love
she has ever known.
– kristin l. cook
kristinlcook 