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Landy Kathan Poem
They say the cage is invisible,
But I can’t even hear the bars rattle,
How ignorant can I be?
I squint;
Peering at others clawing chains I can’t see—
I wonder;
Is my sight broken, or just clean?
I ask, why can’t she be?
They stare—
as though it was clear;
“It’s what’s missing between her legs,”
And what could that mean?
I laugh, unsure if they were joking;
She doesn’t—
My tongue lays heavy inside my mouth.
She’d been convicted by unseen jurors,
in a trial she was born into;
Where I thought I was asking,
I was only echoing.
His cries pierce through knots
of testosterone—
I hear his pain,
I reach out but my arm pulls back
when I hear:
“Now we know what’s between his legs,”
And what’s
that
got to do with it?
I can’t see the cage, the chains,
And how visceral it is for them to keep sane,
But how torturous—
A soul that is bound.
From here, I can only
picture—
The pain you feel,
But I believe it is real;
This is quiet place I stand.
Copyright © Landy Kathan | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Landy Kathan Poem
My baby says they look glorious together;
Sunset, horizon.
A candle flame floating in deep sea water—
The quiet line that receives colour.
Burning gold, aching red, searching for arms to rest,
The sky and the earth collide, making the perfect nest;
Sunset, horizon.
Rampaging daylight, a fierce campaign that leaves eyes dazzled,
A sight that soothes and steadies the world.
Without one, a line between day and night;
Without one, an endless scattering of light.
Sunset, horizon;
They look divine—designed for a trial,
Unable to graze each other, even if vital.
Imagine loving like
Sunset, horizon.
Copyright © Landy Kathan | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Landy Kathan Poem
She stands upright, in the cold,
She doesn’t falter, but stays bold,
She is welcome at night, and brings peace,
She is a light, closer than the moon,
She is a lamppost.
He limps, searching for things to hold,
He falls, into all sorts of mould,
He is prepared to fight, what he can’t see,
He is alright, a bit of a buffoon,
He is a drunkard.
They always meet when the air chills,
And everybody else sleeps,
He holds her dearly,
He knows it is the last bit he’ll see,
She shivers slightly,
She serves her purpose with glee,
He reeks,
She creaks,
He sweats,
She frets,
He thinks of all he’s left,
Bangs his head,
And rests in her pale arms,
She feels his heavy breath,
Soothes his dread,
And waits for him to take arms,
He is no good, breaks every rule,
But makes her purpose meaningful,
She feels understood by this tardy fool,
He knows the night, like it was taught in school,
They stick to each other,
His back to her chest,
They stay still,
They enjoy one another,
Without a mess,
They stay still,
He takes at good look at the dark,
Turns his head to her spark,
Makes up his mind,
Tells her goodbye,
Steps in the shroud, and leaves,
She looks at him go,
Begging to know,
His feels.
Where does he go?
How does he know,
Where to find her steel?
She is a lamppost,
He is a drunkard,
They are best friends:
Each other’s heels.
Copyright © Landy Kathan | Year Posted 2026
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