September 4, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

Hey Void,

How are you?
I’m sorry i’ve assumed
i’d need to scream into/at you
in order to make my way
on the internet/
to stake my claim/
to have some sort of opinion/writing/something
out there…

But if i could get to know you
maybe i wouldn’t feel so self-conscious
about the futility
of all this writing,

maybe my poems
could all be love letters
to The Void.

That is,
if you’ll have me
if you’ll accept my love
(because i wouldn’t want to
do anything
without consent)

Love(?),
HJ

~~~

My Dearest Void,

Working under the assumption
that you’ll accept my letters
(you needn’t accept my love,
not yet),
i’d like to let you know
that being a human
is pretty hard sometimes.
How is it being
The Void?
Do people get upset at you,
like i once did?
Or are people learning
to trust in you,
to speak gently,
to respect you
and your ways
fully?

Hope to hear back from you
soon,
HJ

~~~

Hi Again, Void

Just wanted to say hello.
That’s all.
Nothing expected.
Nothing to be returned/reciprocated.
Just a hello/
a greeting
to you,
My/The
Void

~HJ

September 2, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i knew
i know
it’s the beginning of the month
i knew
i know
it’s the second
(because it’s our dog’s 8-month birthday!)
and my brain put these two knowledges together
and wrote at the top of this page
‘august 2’
like we’ll just cycle through
august
continually

and when i told Kip this story
and insinuated
‘forever august’
we both said
‘no thank you!’

~~~

do you ever read a book
and can feel your mind expanding
your brain re-forming
its old opinions
and ways of thinking
into distinctly new ones?

i’m now on my second of two such books
within a month and a half time-frame
and while i will admit
to it
being quite exhausting
it is also invigorating
enlightening
(obviously)
and exciting

and i feel kind of bad
for people who never experience such
fast
observable
growth
of self

~~~

have i been able
to feel stable
to feel calm and at one with the universe
this past week
though i’ve missed
at least half
of morning poetry
because of the book i’m reading
and its meditative quality?

or is my default
when stress arises
simply to externalize calm
for others around me
but recently
that calm has infected the inside as well?

or am i simply able to
deal with stressors more easily
because of healthier coping mechanisms
and weekly chats with a good therapist
and daily low-doses
of a pill
that works?

or maybe all three?

September 1, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i didn’t know
how much i was looking forward
to
spooky season
i didn’t know
how much
i needed
the halloween lofi
in my life[fi]
i might hazard
a guess
that this fall
i might even enjoy
the changing colors
and cooling breezes
and falling leaves
and season changes

but one thing’s for sure
i’m super stoked
to see skulls and bats
and skebletons and black cats
and ghosts and spiders and creepy shit
out in the real world
(not just inside our house)

August 31, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

sleepy puppies
and writing spouses
sneaky cats
and work on houses
long-ass days
and even longer nights
when there is no internet to help
with career or comfort plights

a twenty-first century struggle bus

~~~

how is it that
when i skip one day of writing
i feel like i’ve lost
every fibre of creativity
and every ounce of self-discipline
and every last little thing i learned
over the past near year and a half?

~~~

one more poem
one more rhyme
simply to get myself
better in my mind
to see the time
and time again roll
to see myself
as i always wanted to be
and to finally see me
as i was meant to be
futuristically
and fully

August 30, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

why do i yearn
for the hot hot hot climate
yet once it’s here
in my own back/front/side yard
i’m exhausted
can’t sleep
can’t wake up
walking feels like swimming
and breathing feels like dying

but i know
once it gets colder
my body rejects the climate
in other ways
(as does my brain)
so i suppose i’ll just
be a sleepy ball of sweat
for the next however many months
and enjoy not being a depressed icicle with nerve-pain
for what seems like
every
single
day
till the end of time

August 29, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

my life
my poetry
slides from
quirky/cute/fun/carefree
to
the biggest angst you’ll ever see
and i know my life is actually
somewhere in the middle
somewhere in the in-between
but i never learned to see any shades
between the black and white
structured
yes or no
now or never
fact or falsehood
good or bad
so that simply makes my life
hard to quantify
at this point
wherein it has
so much positivity
but still so much pain

maybe that’s why i like spooky times so much
it’s supposed to be so scary
but it provides me with so much comfort
that i calm down the minute i hear dissonant tones
theremin whines
and boos and bones
rattling scattering my confusion
at the difference of the two kinds of life
and reminds me
that it’s ok
to live between

thank halloween.

August 27, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

a memory
failing me
at every opportunity

or

is it protecting me?
is it saving me from the agony
of solid knowledge
and pain?

because

isn’t that what a trauma response is?
just the brain and/or body
trying their hardest
to save the heart
from hurt?

August 26, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it’s hard
to just life your life
when you look at everything
through the eyes of
an external narrator

when i just want to
have the experience of
surprise
say
or even sadness and grief,
my brain fills with the descriptors:
“their eyes widen in surprise”
“tears leak down their cheek, while they ponder
a long life well lived”
or even
“the pang of depression had lessened, but the grip was still tight
on their heart,
shoving it down
towards the depths of their insides
causing a pain
they didn’t even know
was possible”

do you see?
i’m frustrated with my own experience
because i’m constantly trying to describe it
for others
for my own narrative structure
to get the external markers just so
for the script/film adaptation, too
and i find myself unable to just experience
the experience.

perhaps that’s why i’m drawn to the two extremes
of hobbies-
the one that takes up every single ounce
of mental and physical awareness,
and the one where you do the same thing
over and over and over again
till it because just a background motion,
a memory of the muscles,
a pattern rather than an activity.

and maybe someday i’ll be able to feel things
experience life
without describing it
but for now…
i circus
and i embroider
and i write to try to find my medium
my in-between,
wherever it may be.