Month: September 2022

September 30, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

an end
to September
a month i thought i had
far more of
to do
and plan
and write
and post

but October is not an ending
it is a beginning
[as are all months,
but the winter ones feel more like finalés
than startings]
a beginning to a full month of fall,
a beginning to full-out spooky mode–
set out decorations
finalize plans for costumes
(maybe even plan a party),
a start to drawloween/inktober/drawtober/whatever we
decide to do
daily/weekly/monthly tasks
making the shorter days
fly by
with creativity
and panache
and a little bit of stress
and a whole lot of art

and i could get overwhelmed
with planning for November
and then how it’ll turn to December
in basically the blink of an eye
but i
have decided to live fully
inside this October
when it comes

but right now
good-bye,
September,
good-bye.

September 29, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i
don’t
wanna
do it

i don’t
want
to morning pages

i don’t
want to write
this morning

i don’t
want to be forced
or force myself to be
creative
fake inspiring
inspired
by the cold outside
(or inside for that matter)
by my sleepy eyes
or exhausted brain
or heart that has yet to gain
any sort of strength
(they say the heart is a muscle
but how do you exercise it
to be more open
more loving
more child-like
more you?)

i
don’t
wanna do
anything

so instead
i’m writing
about the feeling
and hoping
you’ll understand
too

September 28, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

my father warned me
to be careful
with my love,
to not say it
unless i truly meant it,
to dole it out in
parts
because caution
was his motto

i told him i do mean it
fully
every time i tell a friend
those three words
and with the family, too
i give out my love
to those who deserve it
(and yes, some who may not
but still probably need it)
because love is not
a finite resource–
it’s an energy
that bounces around the universe
sparkling through humans
and non-humans alike
(don’t come at me
and don’t tell me dogs
don’t love/
or any pet
for that matter/
or the earth
to continue turning/
and the sun to continue shining/
and the breeze to continue blowing/
even tho we
constantly
take them all for granted
and destroy them like they weren’t
the finite resource
my father tried
to convince me of
with love)

love
is healing
love
is what we need
now
love
can’t fix everything
but it is a
very good
beginning

so
i love you
and i mean it.

(this poem was inspired by
the kinship worldview
a philosophy for living
that most, if not all
Indigenous communities share
and i learned about
from a book
that you should read too,
called “Restoring The Kinship Worldview”
that may give you something
to meditate
about)

September 26, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

is that
actually
what i’m doing
when i write
and post
my poetry?

i’m fitting myself
into each word
and phrase
and whichever one
comes closest
to revealing the true
me
is the one that meets
The Void
of the interwebs?

could be,
could be…

September 25, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

snickerdoodles
and pumpkin pecan coffee
and spooky tunes
and writing poems
all
for
breakfast

~~~

i know
that it’s not
the same
but seeing our tiny puppy
in pain
reminds me of the stories
parents tell
of seeing their children
hurt
or sick
for the first time
and how frustrating it feels
to be utterly helpless

to not be able to explain to your baby
‘this cough will pass
you just need to rest’
or
‘i can’t magically make you better
even though i give you
every other
necessity
needed
for life’

wanting to do everything
and being able to do nothing
and those eyes asking for the world
which you’d give
in an instant
if you
only
could

~~~

thank you
Louka
for the treats
with the natural pain relief
so this puppy could get excited
about them
instead of concentrating on
her hurt leg
and helping her
sleep
some pain
away

September 24, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it’s been a while
since we’ve turned on
the space heater
designed to
emulate a place with fire
and though i know
sitting right in front
will slightly singe my skin
and the way i sit
will hurt my back
and the floor really isn’t the best
place to be to write these poems
but damn
if it’s going to get cold
outside
the least i can do
is give myself
the little pleasures
that make it all
slightly
bearable

September 22, 2022

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i think it’s so funny
when people are funny
about their dog’s gender

the dog
doesn’t care
only you care
only you

~~~

but maybe that’s the source
right?
it doesn’t matter what the misgendered person’s gender is
it doesn’t matter how they feel at all
it’s all about the
person
in power—
the parent
or owner
or law maker

am i right?

~~~

experimentation
with imperfection
with writing
without rewriting
with whimsy
and morning brain
and coffee-less veins
and only a little bit
of contemplation
before composition
before posting
again

September 21, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

is there any use
in continuing
little habits
on a day
when it feels like
everything is out of control
(but somehow you made it this way?)

~~~

big feels
little poems
tiny words

you got it

~~~

the leaves
are changing
on the tree outside–
each green
bordered with a red
literally
glowing
in the morning sun
waving to me
in a gentle breeze
and letting me know
this autumn
will be
safe

~~~

breaking up big topics
into bite-sized pieces

the poetry way

~~~

the problem
(one of them)
with having such a vast array
of works
is that i don’t know
which one
two
or three
to send in
to potentially be
published

(especially these little bois—
where
and how
do they
belong?)

~~~

self
publishing?

(it is an option)