Kiki Shakti has been writing poetry since the age of 11. Performing her poetry at open mics at this young age, Kiki rebuked the admonition that she was “too young to have written it.” Her poetry comes in waves and phases; different times of life and different periods of inspiration inform her process. Lyrically gifted and verbose, Kiki’s poetry moves the heart and informs the spirit.
The music plays soft thunder in my heart a longing for sweetness a look in his eyes I move I twist I turn I bend & fold collapse spring back the pulse builds the beat yearns for touch movement fills my tissues a line, an arc grace and then rest. April 18, 2010
White-hot magic turns to orange, then red The cooling off process thoughts of me in your head You rustle and stir as I slip into bed Now I just wonder and hope our passion’s not dead… March 27, 2010
The world in motion We time her pace This human world with its ugly face To feel too real you must be small and still afraid they’ll take it all Quickly, quickly the race is on and hurry now they’re all gone The fires took and melted their faces Empty now, these human places. March 27, 2010
My heart bleeds wine You are divine You were hers Now you are mine Funny how these worlds collide Why I can’t understand the signs All I know I love you so Self-deception and pride in tow The river breaks The mountains boil My heart aches In the midnight darkness I toil. March 27, 2010
It’s the picture of a young girl brimming with pride and beauty her glory and vanity standing tall joyful irony pushed inside where it clutches and chills her warm, throbbing heart A martyr in her mind, She burns at the stake of her own Making not a tear of rain in the dark sky to quench her yearning Craving the power to suggest filled with a need to be understood without disdain, she suddenly is empty. March 27, 2010
Do you think you know me? Do you feel that I know you? As complete as we are together and as badly as I want you I don’t think you understand the fear I hold inside. It’s that of a little girl who sees into her future and can smell the pain gathered there. Or that of a small bird who knows of the approaching winter, but has no place to go for shelter. The nostalgia grasp from my bowels draws me inside out And there I am, skinless in the winter frost. March 27, 2010
I’m worth it! Taking control! 19 Dresses? that show who’s boss. The art of seduction The ultimate date dress The most decadent chocolates The world’s sexiest bachelor AND A divorcee’s fantasy affair New mind and body fitness workout PLUS One woman’s inspiring journey… to political freedom Oh… and don’t forget the hot silver pants on the back. March 25, 2010
Never before have I felt so sane Reasonable Logical Patient, even. All the cogs working together in unison All the pieces of my life falling into place. Never before have I been so crazy Manic Stressed Emotionally volatile Even when it’s falling into place, the falling sensation can really freak a girl out. I’m a narrator in my own movie and I’m watching myself. I watch myself freak out and then I watch myself center and calm down. It’s like I’m two different people and Then remember, I’m also the narrator So, really I’m three people and What does that do for my reality? I may spontaneously combust Explode like a cracker jack Tense, so tense I’ll implode into myself until I’m dense, black light sucking material and I’ll feel that way, too When really I’m just as brilliant as the next star (girl) Sanity must be an illusion! March … Read Full PoemAh Sweet Sanity
With fire and air Steam building Pounds through the kettle whistle, a siren calling me to tea Water With air and fire except for very little earth practically none at all the conundrum lives in finding stability in the flow of boiling water – don’t get tossed about… March 24, 2010
A ball of electric shock fills my solar plexus anxiety knocks out my breath my diaphragm crinkles under the pressure Nervous energy – tap tap tap Excitement tickles my belly Shiny object Shiny person Shiny moment Catch those fucking butterflies in a net – take them to Mexico where they can lie on the white-hot sand under the white hot sun and calm down a bit Take the finger out of the levee. Dig a series of canals. Allow the power a place to go. Root down into yourself and expand from there – undulating like the ocean where those butterflies might still be chillin’. March 24, 2010