March 12, 2025

i really don’t know
what i should be doing
when all is in limbo
and my mind flails out for
something
anything to do —
if i should be going out for roles
clearing out those spiderwebs and
putting my acting brain to task

if i should be writing more
and speaking up against power
with the words my fingertips
help me find
morning after morning after morning

if i should be using my body
in the ways i’ve learned
so recently — power in muscles
consistently picking up my own bodyweight
for fun
for art
for staying fit
in imminent societal collapse

but when i can’t figure out what i should do
i tend to mend things that need mending;
i darn my own and my spouse’s socks,
i close up a hole the puppy has torn in her
cheaply-made and roughly-loved toy,
i patch up jeans
and other pants,
and make art out of scraps,
and maybe that’s the “should” in all this
uncertainty —

make sure we
are not as beholden to consumerism
as we very well could be

March 10, 2025

i wish i saw through poet’s eyes
the beauty of the earth at all times —
but instead i see the pain and despair
and try to beautify that
with impassioned speeches/
or try to find the tiniest spec
of lovely
in a day full of pain/
and make the mundane
beautiful again

though it doesn’t really feel like
poetry
to me
without grand sunsets
or allegories of bees and flowers,

i’m over here trying —
making beauty out of angst
and bubble gum

March 9, 2025

pondering philosophies —
i wonder why i
seem to flounder when it comes to
strong opinions and staunch stances

but that’s just from the inside

if i zoom out, i realize
i do have a very strong morality —
a constant running baseline
that i live my life by:
kindness

and if i zoom out a little further,
i can see how living my life
with so much pressure and hatred towards myself
is in direct opposition to my main focal philosophy…
perhaps
perhaps
perhaps
i need to be kind to myself
in order to feel more like
the myself i would like
to be

March 5, 2025

build a concept
from words and stanzas,
make it stand like the structure of a house

but the house still needs full walls and floors and a roof to keep it dry
so decide:
are the walls paragraphs of a story?
is the foundation actually one a play can stand upon?
or will the covering shelter end up being a whole novel?

or will it stay a poem forever?

only reviewing and editing can do that —

but only writing the first few words
will give you the skeleton
to build upon

March 4, 2025

i am a softie
made of choked up feelings
and barely hidden tears

and stories will almost always mist my eyes
but a thank you to a supportive partner
from a trans-masc autistic person
will straight up give me
the weeps