April 24, 2021

why does my soul
and heart
and body
ache for adventure
when my brain
and my eyes
and my entire psyche
long to nap until i might feel
truly
awake again?

do i really need to rest until i feel up to adventuring again?
(not that many adventures are happening right now, in the time of the ‘rona)
and if that’s the case,
is this the indication that,
even though my days are spent lazing around
doing ‘nothing,’
that ‘nothing’
isn’t as relaxing as i once thought?

i’ve been made aware
that resting while feeling guilt about resting
is not truly resting.
is this why that,
even though i’ve been alive
twenty-seven plus years
i don’t know that i’ve ever felt truly rested?
because, whether i’m performing ten shows a week,
or have literally nothing on my schedule
for the foreseeable future,
i always have these murmurs of
“i should be doing something”
“a nap would be nice right now…”
“i should be doing something”
“maybe i could just close my eyes for a hot second”
“i should be doing something”
“another coffee, maybe?”
“i should be doing something”
“why doesn’t this wake me up like it used to?”
“i should be doing something”

or, i suppose, that exhaustion could simply be the
depression.

whatever it is,
it’s low key,
i know people/friends/acquaintances/family
with invisible illnesses
with constant pain and exhaustion
that does not leave them alone
that requires them take a nap
as soon as the feeling hits them,
that forces their eyes closed
which no amount of coffee or energy drink or caffeine pill or anything
could ever prevent.
mine is not that.
it feels like a quiet undercurrent,
some days i can ignore it so much, it goes away
(usually when i’m busy with other things)
other days i do end up napping on the couch for over an hour.
but it’s a whisper
not a shout
it’s a gentle tug towards sleep
not a full out body slam down onto whatever surface is nearby
it’s the existential exhaustion of being alive
in a world that kind of sucks
and your anxiety never lets go of your awareness of it.

it’s probably the depression.

April 23, 2021

a vivid dream
can munch up
all my morning plans

my brain stuck
inside
—whatever it was that that was—
as my body slowly adjusts to conscious life,
the mind-parts are still millions of neuron-firings away
trying to hold on to the bright colors
and new characters
and strange places
(and lovely animals)
that my brain just kind of
made up
for the night,
trying to hold on to them
before they
float
away.

and even though i know i’ll be awake eventually,
even though i know that trying to hold on to the vividness
will just make its disappearance all the more devastating,
still i try,
stuck in the dream
secretly hoping to
not
get out of there.

April 21, 2021

i don’t know how
people
do it.
write poetry about the big things
falling in love
feeling betrayed
birth
rape
death

i’ve tried and i always feel
i’m missing a piece of the puzzle
like my particular words
cheapen
my majestic moments.

but i’m more than happy
to write odes
to sour patch kids
express a love for
one particular flower
paint a poetic portrait
over the act of writing poetry
i thrive on the little things

(but do people actually want to read poems
about how my morning was?)

April 20, 2021

if you’ve ever held a purring cat
on your lap
without your arms,
simply the cat’s choice
to stay,
to head-butt into your outstretched arm
(which is diligently writing poetry
running
full-force
into the second week of this)
then you know what pure joy feels like;
the purrs calming your anxiety riddled body
the head-butt feeling like
you are the purveyor of all that is good
in this world,
you are the protector
of this cat
(even though, most likely, it is she who is the protector of you.)

April 19, 2021

the sleep
of the deep dive
into the ocean of dreams
(is maybe too much of a metaphor for this morning)
because
i am used to treading water
half submerged
half awake
half aware
ready for the rescue of the alarm
to pull me out

but last night
even when i felt myself
in perfect treading form,
that might have been
deep
deep
down
because the alarms didn’t carry me
away

April 18, 2021

wondering
wandering
train stations
(NUMTOTs)
music
in my ears
(but not on)
(or maybe on, but not in)

or would i rather

sit
and
ponder
research
and
file
write
and
write

but right now i must
answer emails
and answer texts
and write a little bit at a time

April 17, 2021

if i do continue to
poetry
every day
will my poems become
(like my morning pages)
about the act of writing them
(and the frustration when they don’t flow)

…or
could i maybe break through that struggle
and find my voice on the other side
of the struggle and search
for words and subjects
and feel confident in my
abilities
as a
writer.

April 16, 2021

sometimes
you just need
some saxophones screaming at you
[from your tiny laptop speakers]
with crazy drumbeats
drumming
cymbal beats
into your soul
as a way to wake you up in the morning

and sometimes
you just need
to take a little break from
morning pages poetry
to talk with your spouse
and make them blush
at how much love
you have
for them

and sometimes
you just need
coffee.

April 15, 2021

my spouse is kip.
the word kip is also a very fun word to say.
we chirp “kip” at each other in public as a way to find each other
(sometimes the sound gets into a sonar-like frequency as we find ourselves closer and closer)
it has become a type of nickname/pet-name for both of us.
and when a birthday comes around
(either one of ours)
it has been dubbed “kip day.”
and the entire week around kip day
has become “kip day week”
and we present each other with presents
(because it doesn’t matter whose birthday it ‘really’ is; it’s kip day and we are both kips.)
and we enjoy the gifts,
as much in giving as in receiving,
and oftentimes we’ll get each other way too many kip day gifts
and the giving will continue
long after the 8 original days of kip day week.
(in fact, i believe this kip day week will extend at least three days past what we originally planned)

(and that’s called a love language)