Author: Karina Batres

Stripping Down
June 26, 2025
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| Family History, Prose
Let's get bare, all out, leaving what's true and told, nothing to add or fix. the story ends here. A chapter played to the best of its capacity, nothing better or new will come from it. Cords severed gently, no fuss, loosened knots, we're closing up the tent. Built, used, and spent, we have several humidity stains, a few cracks, and some peeled walls. We're weathered and salted by all of it, and aware: we must complete the other half...

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Paradoxical Karma
April 9, 2025
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| Family History, Homage
Family sorrow is in my expanding bags, on my soggy lid, from way back, but it's ok; I'm not stopping. Skin sags under my punny chin, connecting to pictures in black and white. Their heads slightly toppled backward, as if taken aback, suppressing fear, but it's ok, I will continue. Heaviness the sentence of my stance, grinding hip sockets, a weak abdomen, as if its age had suddenly doubled, but that's ok, I am not backing off from the call....

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Disillusion
April 9, 2025
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| Family, Family History, Prose
We are not the illusion.  Hidden from view, deep in childhood, the night comes with crickets, picnics are set nearby the river, a brick home stands proud in the countryside. When I utter brother, mother, father, I expect to feel them even in the distance, able to pull them closer with a simple wish. But what I got is the awkward, the alien in its own country, many a contradiction of terms. I used to believe, but had to stop....

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Vulture
March 28, 2025
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| Homage, Prose
When it began they were scouting the sky, back in late august, when the summer light glared fierce. The span of their wings was the extent of a premonition. Drought and desert had come to the city to stay. Dead things lay fresh, but soon to be gone; lives run out and reclaimed back to earth. On my daily commutes they signaled from above, when doubt and dread circled my mind, like scavengers. It got better when I looked up....

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Slither
March 22, 2025
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| Prose
Slipping through the cracks, an ethereal presence, a phantom being, slithers in deep silence, at the bottom of darkness, in the abyss. There's more beyond the cracks: new intuition, a world still without words, unseen, barely heard, more felt. Old laws don't work anymore, only the desire for birthing something new and free. Energy build up is what's needed to fatten up the slithering smokey ghost. I hear steady crumbling as the last degrees of march skid by. Degradation of...

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Rite of Passage
January 22, 2025
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| Prose
"Shush"  instructed the winter wind, on a very cold morning. The Sun's familiar hug now weak, his usual toasty shawl much too light over my shoulders, and the steep cool-down made me shudder. I walked faster, as if it were possible to to flee the chill, cutting through every nook and cranny of my attire. My feet soon built up some friction, the promise of a little heat from the brisk movement. My mind wandered off with the same hurry....

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Winter Scape Prayer
January 22, 2025
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| Family History, Homage
Make me the clearest water, a river's modest current, transparent to the Sun's arms, wintry cool though not frozen, winding lighthearted, all through out the original land. Make me crisp as linen, left to dry in the early winter breeze, to the matured caress of the daystar, my real lover. Give me if you may, the freshness of a dutiful morning, softly sloping towards the distance, all the inner children running towards me, frisky as home dogs. I hope for...

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Prayer to go
January 9, 2025
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| Prose
Help my impulse, let only the purest emerge, don't allow me to think, enough pondering has been done here. Rush me toward my truest reality, that sudden drive to your designed road, that which is my true node, the vector of my mission. Whisper it to me in sleep, the ending words ever so loud, definite phrases to broaden my glance, to see the path set forth, and faith awaiting those first steps. Appease this mind and its lunar phases,...

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Autumn shades
January 5, 2025
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| Family, Family History, Prose
You’re dissolving, an invisible flame burns the pages quietly in the stillness of your study. Ashen skies glow softly, cradling the twilight sun; soft autumn light drizzles between branches, beyond the sliding window of your routine. You're are fading, while scribbling the usual, at your desk. My body only wants a moment, this very one, no past or future, no history to tell, no projections for tomorrow. In this way I will disappear too, and though you'll remember I was...

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Drive
December 28, 2024
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| Prose
I need only dive in a sea of potential meaning, fish for a description, a new adjective manifest in musical vibrations, from the Avant Garde keynotes pouring into the cabin. So I drive on, protected in a bubble of steel and glass, the inner sea swishes against its walls. Words to give substance, while the horizon turns an angle; the skyline slips behind dull buildings; the ground tilts, and suddenly, this planet might not be as round. I might be...

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