Life, love, the age of fragmentation
and identity theft runs rampant among
those defined by someone other than

lost, amnesia, the who am I effect, stripped
of definition left to wander, alone, solitude
not withstanding

silence, fog, zero visibility, vertigo, how then
now to find the way, naked and afraid exposed
before all the elements

yet one stands apart living without love for it is
but a fragmentation, solitude provides a safe
place for the wanderer whose character came
into question

found in the shadows of the fringe on the outside
looking in shedding life like a skin, every step a
journey, each blister a story

a loaner by default needs no one to describe them
with fables and tales of grandiose ideas for they are
the glittering generality of a person or persons wishing
to make something more out of what is not

life is life, while love clearly is a corruption of an idea based
upon a need, self-discovery is then a voyage within the
innermost world where one can define themselves as they


Happily Never After

Life, it’s all about choices
which define a direction,
some of which are blind
leaps of faith while others
seem a bit more rational
in the promise of something
better than the present

in every choice there is
a giving up of one thing
in order to have the other
and in this, it is a rare occasion
that one can honestly say they
have considered what it is that
is being given up

to state my case clearly would
be to admit to a thirteen year
relationship with a ghost, who
became trading stock for someone
other, someone I could touch
and feel, someone tangible

the making of that choice became
the choosing to release the spirit
of one most dear for a perception,
which led to the day in which I
became a choice not taken

wise advice finds its way within
through hindsight clarity to where
greener grass exists only in thought

people often say the pain will ease
in time, but the only thing fading is
the memory, which is now two-fold
and I am angry, for one chose me not
but still loves me and the other, I gave
up perfection to be left with nothing

I feign a bit of happiness so that those
who cannot see past its veil, will justly
believe that I’m alright, but then there
are few who know better

and now to no avail, I have tried conjuring
the ghost while growing increasingly weary
of what I seek, wouldn’t it be perfect if when
we made a choice that didn’t work out quite
in the way we expected the previous would
return without question like nothing contrary
had ever happened?

said the one holding nothing, it doesn’t work
that way! when you let go you let go, there
are no do overs, no punch backs, no mulligans

and to the ones who were not chosen, and still
hope for happily ever after, you’re standing at
a crossroad called happily never after.

Katovski 2017

Katovski having surgery

On June 5th Katovski will be having surgery on his right elbow to repair the damage from the car wreck back in march. I’m going to be down for a while since I won’t be able to use my right arm and hand for a couple of months or more. I will keep everyone updated and post here when I can.

I will be using the voice to text application on my computer and  when the the massive frustration from using it subsides I will try  to post some new work

stay tuned for a blog about the 6-9 month recovery adventure about to begin!

thanks for stopping by  and thanks for liking what I do ! you are appreciated

TrulyYours , Katovski



Hang on folks it’s going to get rough
is the voice I hear every time the
alert above my head goes off and I
get that feeling of a roller-coaster
falling fast

except the oxygen masks don’t drop
and it’s getting hard to breathe I’m
fighting to maintain just enough
control and there it is, I’ve lost it
my pants are wet, standing in front
of a crowd waiting to hear me and
no one can take their eyes off my

suddenly the only words that come
are the ones not rehearsed, they
fly out of my mouth in a crazy eyed
blurt exclaiming loud and direct
“I’m up here”!

there is about a millisecond to
recover and find the balance
between my turbulent reaction
and the obvious walk of shame

to seize the day sometimes means
moving forward despite personal
physical obstacles

if then this is your day
regardless of the turbulence
how will you seize it


Perfect Pitch

There were three steps forward
my fingers touched the summit
forces beyond the realm of my
physical control kicked me from
the mountain

out there somewhere, never
finding the bottom suspended
between time logic and space
continues to hold fast the key

what then becomes mystery or
mysterious is a deception for the
open eye where when closed
they mediate the meditation focus
revealing doors to passageways
leading to the center core of life

some would say I’m lost, others
may understand I’ve sidestepped
time as it flies by waiting for my
moment, chances are this instant
may be a onetime ordeal in which
the rhythm of life has to match
perfect pitch

according to the previous book of
life left behind by a jumper bearing
a familiar mark

and of these rhythm steps and time
quotations counting down the beat
to a certain signature then stepping
through the longa into a four step
silent passage opening up in the living
breathing center core of life

as my eyes then open I find my feet
planted firmly upon the summit from
which I can see for eternity within myself
and believe


Mixed Media

How to stop loving someone
when they’re no longer with
you even though they send
messages and call acting
concerned HOW

yet someone is terrified of
losing the friendship, they
threw away but understand
it’s not fair to give false hope

I’m angry at myself for believing
there is any good in the heart
of any one person, because there’s

word play is so full of ulterior
motive which bleeds over into
actions confusing the mind of
the seeker

causing the spill over of heart
feelings and now everyone
knows my shame

then come the cathartic words
that make it easier to sleep at
night for the one who says they
love and miss me

how can any of this be? something
died inside the day you departed
before the day you told me

and now I’m writing this so that
I can feel better about being the
one who thought there was a bit
of truth to hold on to in the mixed
media message from someone who
thought I was still an option


“Repeat” a word not worth living

Maybe this should be easy to understand
but it isn’t, my depression speaks for me
of an addiction

it’s not what you think, I can’t eat it, snort
it, drink it, or inject it. but it is the knife
that never stops cutting, I’m standing on
the outside looking in unable to stop the

deep heart puncture residue scaring can’t
fight the feeling mind body craving the

words spoken and or written create the
false sense of sparks rekindling sealed
in a kiss and the circle is complete or is
it, the here I go again of things unfinished

I’m up sitting laying down thinking going
over and over the details of my life crying
it’s late I can’t sleep searching for a way
to change the outcome of everything that
led to this minute

the voices dance in and out around about
murmurings inaudible until they change
speaking clearly offering a way to see the

but it’s not the exit I seek it’s just a pass off
of my pain to anyone who cared and I can’t
do that to another

in public, I hold it together but alone I’m falling
apart standing at the edge where there’s not
enough footing to grasp the gravity of my dire

I put all my secret feelings out there in the open
only to watch them complete a new circle and
repeat a previous disaster,

actions louder than words drive me deeper into
confusion, this should be easy to understand but
it isn’t