May 21, 2024

accidentally realizing
[through morning page poetry]
that i’ve tried to package my life
my feelings
my emotions
my experience
my existence
into a narrative structure
with themes and things
all tied up in a nice bow of a simple story
for other people’s consumption
just to yell at myself
that my life is mine to experience, no one else’s;

whether or not i’m enjoying my life, no one else
should get to consume it until i’m
actually gone.

i don’t need to make myself digestible
especially when i’m not even in a
‘public eye’ of any kind right now

why
did i/do i
do this to myself?

[i just want to experience something
without worrying what others will
think, looking back, as if i’m some
kind of historical figure — is that
too much to ask of my own psyche???]

May 20, 2024

i’m already well past 300 words
and i’ve gotten such good work out
for me
but not for anybody
else

maybe i should start taking old poems
and redoing them/
adjusting and rewriting
for use in a book of some kind?

i’ve now written
more than one poem every single day
for over three years now
officially 1,134 days
according to this calculator i just found
on the interwebs

let’s calculate a bit more:
i know i usually write at least three poems —
though sometimes there’s a lot more/
but sometimes i’ve skipped days to come back later
and use an unpublished poem from a previous writing session —
let’s just say it averages out to three a day
[i know this will be a low estimate]
that makes, at least 3,402 poems
[probably closer to 6,000 if we’re being honest]

[i wonder if it would be worth it
to go back and actually count
how many poems happened each day]

[that would be wild
to say
the least]

and all of this look back/calculation has helped none of the
‘i have no poem to post today’
issue…

i suppose i could post this word soup,
give the internet the knowledge
that while i post one to three poems daily
on that site, the need to write
is overwhelming sometimes,
and sometimes i just gotta write and write and write
and i guess i’ve written somewhere between 3 and 6 thousand poems
[honestly probably even more]
since i started this experiment
in april of 2021

[also, i thought it would be an
experiment that would last me a year
and here
i am…]

May 19, 2024

oh no
oh no
i have
the stress anxiety
thoughts of impropriety
about everything i could be doing
but am not
or even the things
i literally cannot
i’m stressed
my stomach a mess
and nothing will settle
me down

May 18, 2024

i still feel like i’m trapped in my house
not allowed to go out
not suitable for other human’s consumption
and i want to need to wait
a bit
longer to be permitted to rejoin the human race

~~~

unknown what to write
what to even think about
when my morning has been going
a certain way for a week, and now goes
a completely
different route

[i hate that i need consistency]

~~~

puppeteering
and back to singing
and in a show again
and pride-month dancing
and still i have no idea
if i even want to be perceived
in front of an audience
at this stage in my life
or not

May 16, 2024

if only i knew what i wanted to write about/
if only i didn’t start hundreds of poems
immediately after closing up the morning poetry page/
if only i could access all the unfinished lines in my mind
from last night and prior nights
going back years and decades
and mine them for inspiration for today
now
this morning//
but instead i find myself sitting and staring/
and hoping and despairing/
and writing about writing
and random morning things

[maybe, every few weeks, i should actively make morning poetry
into nighttime poetry
and see what happens
then]

May 14, 2024

i can feel the allergens
tickling my throat,
attacking my everyday systems
and interrupting,
creating weeping eyes
and pained heads
and sinuses that feel like
explosion is imminent
and the fogginess is permanent
but i know, the next cold day,
or non-pollen-drop,
i’ll be fine
i’ll be fine
i’ll be fine

[i’m not dying]

May 13, 2024

maybe an extra little time
an extra single stanza
an extra couplet of rhyme
an extra moment in time
or something else will help me
be ready for the day upcoming…

May 12, 2024

certain music makes me certain
there’s magic somewhere in the air
maybe we can’t see it
maybe we can’t know it
but maybe we can feel it
in our core
in our bones
in our soul
where other magic lays in wait
for the perfect moment
to show its face
to provide a fate
out of the ordinary

[what is creativity
if not a magic of the mind?]