June 30, 2021

change
is a-comin’
and it’s ok to be scared
and it’s ok if it’s not right away
and it’s ok if it’s not exactly what/how we think
but change is coming
and coming
and coming
and maybe
i’ll change
too.

~~~

writing poetry
quick lines,
every now and then
an almost rhyme,
and i wonder if the greats
ever wrate
[wrote]
this way;
half asleep
as a way to wake-up
coffee in hand
cat in lap
pondering the possibilities
of whole pieces
(but only thinking
one or two words
at a time)

~~~

quick!
major inspiration
flow through me now!
poetry
prose
fiction
creative-non
monologues
whole scripts
anything
something
please, universe, please?

June 29, 2021

angst
existential and otherwise
feeds into my mind
my brain
my psyche
my being
and though i can take a step to the side
watch as my emotions fill up
saturate
overflow
danger levels
tell myself
to calm down
i’m still sidelined
in my own
mind
the angst
getting the better of me
(getting the worst of me)
(getting the all of me,
all of all of all of me)

and yet
what shows
is just a little bit of an
‘off’
ness
to me

(the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

(didn’t know i was feeling that way this morning
a surprise to everyone around me
including and especially me

again

the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

is there any happiness in my brain today?
or is this maybe the point of morning pages/
morning poetry
to get all this angst out before it hits other people;
if i leave the angst on the page
(on the screen)
(outside of me)
maybe i’ll be better around others
throughout the day?

June 27, 2021 (part 2), or: on Pride

i’ve been involved
in many a Pride:
marching in the parade,
spectating,
only coming for the afterparty,
staying late,
leaving early,
volunteering,
forgoing because of work,
forgoing because of travel,
forgoing because of emotions,
huge Prides,
tiny Prides,
side Prides,
marching,
listening,
shouting,
chanting…

i’ve been lucky
to learn
beforehand
what i needed to know
to appreciate
each message,
each Pride.

i was introduced
through friends,
chosen family,
strangers,
the internet,
leaders,
who really was Marsha P. Johnson,
and i listened to Sylvia Rivera call us all out,
i learned of the sit-ins,
and the die-ins,
Act-Up,
papier mâché,
the quilt,
what Leather Daddies
and Dykes on Bikes
gave to the communities,
Stormé DeLarverie,
and so many more
i’m still learning about,
and even more
still unnamed
still faceless
who gave me the right
to fight for others’ rights
today

and i hope we continue to march,
that instead of forgoing Pride for comfort
we forgo Pride for Queer Liberation,
or at least include Queer Liberation
inside our Pride.
that we continue to march
for Black lives,
for Trans lives
for Black Trans lives
for a free Palestine
for disability rights
for a Pride
that supports us all;
sans cops
sans rainbow capitalism
supporting what Pride originally stood for

(not because i want to go back,
but because we really cannot go forward
until we are all truly free.)

June 27, 2021

two weeks
in and out
a perpetual
Go
Go
Go
from New York
to Maryland
(to Adelphi, to Baltimore, to Ocean City, to Frederick, to DC)
to New York
to Upstate
(to Batavia, to Byron, to Elba, to Waterport)
to New York

and now
are we still
Go…Go…?
from Brooklyn
to the Bronx
to Manhattan
and back
and back
and back?

or is there a moment
of rest
to recover
(or is the rest
also going to be
from bedroom
to Zoom
to Zoom
to Zoom
continually
ad infinitum
and on and on and on?)

June 25, 2021

coffee beats
caffeine beats
coffee beans
coffee club
caffeine caffeine

(will there ever be a time
that covfefe might be an adorable memory from the past
instead of the trigger
it is now?)

(doubtful)

~~~

my head is pounding
from my sinuses
to…the rest of my body
(all from my sinuses)
(my sinuses are fully to blame)
and i’m blaming my sinuses
also
for not feeling
quite
fully
awake.

~~~

are these half-asleep
ramblings
the things
i really want in my poetry blog?

(when haven’t they been?)

June 24, 2021 (part 2) or: Grandma Jean

A life
A life well lived
A life well lived for a long time

Spunky,
Always learning,
Always growing,
(except in height)
Always pushing the boundaries
Of what it means
To be a woman
In a yacht club
In a college
In a profession.
To be a person.

And the stories
(oh the stories)
A letter full of spelling mistakes
(from a spelling-bee winner)
Kept for decades
Touted as her favorite letter.
Working in the general store
Her father owned
But banned from interacting with customers
Because of that one time she threw a potato at one.
Wearing witch stickers,
Being a dog magnet,
(when she didn’t really like dogs),
And the one I got to experience:
Staring at a piece of art for a long time
Asking ‘Who did that?’
And when we said ‘You did!’
Her response was,
‘I thought I liked it.’

Let’s raise a glass
(of Vernors)
To Jean Jackson Price.