Kate Crash is a songwriter, record producer, filmmaker, poet & multimedia artist. 



Short Films




Watch the planes take off into the clouds

They look like the shadows of birds

Sketched out of stone

There there

Then soon not there at all


There’s a glare over the back marsh

It’s the sun saying it’s here though we can’t see it

But we always feel it

The way I still feel people who have long since gone

They are tinges of colors over the landscapes in front of me, behind me, in the air


See- that hint of red on that wild flower shaking just above the water is my dad in his red cap always pushing me to try again, harder!  

And that bird swooping down has a silver crown which shines like that last boy who was my everything and that splash of orange as it goes in for the kill are the fires he set over my whole world

And my long lost grandma’s hand is the swirl of blue in the horizon, an echo of long ago times I won’t find again

Except on these early morning walks where I am

Finally alone

Except for those colors

Except for those voices

Of places that can’t be touched

Only felt

Only held

In an ache or a smile

Buried deep beneath

What everyone else sees

When they (only) pass you by


Hello Paloma
The world doesn’t know you yet
And you don’t know it
There’s so much grace and majesty
Rising out of all the ugliness
So don’t stare too long at the ground or let them take your faith
Even in all the injustice, there is always a way
And girls - they want things of girls that will make you feel insane
But know yourself and be true to that and you’ll always be ok
Even if that dark thing happens to you or is inside you or wants to consume your dreams
You can create your reality if you know what good things can come to be if you make it so
You are strong, stronger than you know
Millions of people had to be born before you so you could grow
Your ancestors bones inhabit the earth and the sky
So if you ever get sad and want to know why or how or what
Look all around
The love to make you is in each sound
Every leaf blowing on a tree
Every wave smashing into a beach
Every cloud in every sky
That sings through the wind way up high
All of it is comprised of your past and your future
So never question what you are doing here
You are here and that is enough
And if you can
Do all you can to help lift this world up
To become the light you want to see
To find the wonder in even the quietest of things 
To know that each suffering is temporary and so is each joy
Except the one you create inside
& From that you will always stay warm




my friends are dying and I never look as good as I want

I'm wasting my time on the insignificant

I'm so exhausted I can't think straight or much

August always hits me like a pick up truck


I remember there weren't even flowers on his grave

just gun shots in the air to mark that final day

if he were still alive what would he say?

his last words were "you'll make it through ok"


out onto that crazy lost august night I was thrown

from my mothers screams into the world's stumbling arms

my father laughing with his drink and swearing at the sun

for not being there to shine on his final good thought


I get so tied up in my dreams I often forget to live

and then, I do, but all in one great, wild and free explosion

and people watching think I burn the brightest

but they don't see me most of the time - I'm collecting ashes


what is a way to sum up the wonder and the chaos?

that uncertainty - rat gnawing on the rope I tossed

to linger on this planet and keep me locked

into survival because the only other option is giving up




I want thrills

the junior high thrills of sneaking out high on sugar and pills

climbing down my daddy's tree

running out into the world he couldn't keep from me

kissing boys and smoking in parks in the dark

unraveling the secrets of a girlhood lost

daring myself to die then running home to hide

from all the danger I let escape from deep inside

sweat on my skin

naked under my covers

reenacting those reckless adventures

and all those strangers

who touched my hair

and gave me a sip

and tried to get


where I'd smile and laugh if they came too close

where I'd sometimes let them grope

at my neck or tug at my skirt

but the ones I really wanted

that never noticed

are the ones I'd think about most

under the covers

covered in flowers

my dad's bad taste picked out

and I'd fall into explosions

thinking about all the things I'd like to try

if I could just let myself fly



he was the water & I didn't know it

the moon hanging low over the mountain

the swervey road melting into the horizon

the smile before the day ends & night cracks you open

he was the dropped rock shooting ripples

the many first stars I had wished upon

the velvet feeling of a flower pedal

smothered into the hand    then dropped into the trash

he was the row of marigolds in mother's portrait

dusty & forgotten in a back hallway of the house

you don't want to think about

he was the first hand held

an impractical  spell


the end of summer

the start of noon

& everything else

that came & went too soon