January 31, 2022

it’s about to be
That Time:

February.

in a non-leap-year,
February and March
have the same date attached
to the same day of the week,

and this messes me
the fuck
up.

i’ve missed more appointments
than i care to admit
scheduling them for February
when i thought i’d scheduled them for March,
and more than a few
shown up too early
seeing the day and the date come up
in the second month of the year
just to have them actually be
in the third.

i know ‘reading the date more carefully’
is a way around this,
but sometimes my eyes see
exactly what they want to see
instead of what is

(and especially within this
year three
of a global porcupine ,
where concentration is lacking
in most of us
due to collective trauma
observed
[directly or indirectly]
day in
and day out
and day in
and day out
and my only saving grace
last year
was that nothing needed to be scheduled
during these months;
resurgences,
and my own clumsy injuries,
and the cold outside,
and my own seasonal depression…
i hid through most of the winter,
hibernated the initial instance of
‘Tuesday the first’
away)

but
i’m trying to be more proactive
more energized
more engaged
this year
so i’ll read
and re-read
and re-re-re-read
and have my spouse check
the dates of things
(or just not schedule anything
non-consistent
at all)
(i mean, hey,
there’s a reason i scheduled my booster
for today,
the last day in January,
a date i won’t even see
for another
fifty-nine
days)

and maybe
just maybe
this therapy
of breathing
and taking my time
and forgiving myself
my past errors
is [could be] helping?

January 17, 2022

windy nights
and nightmares,
the storm of the century
(or at least of the year so far)
though probably no great catastrophes
or losses
except the loss of any restful sleep
and the catastrophes made up
in our minds:
big thuds
(was it real?)
giant wasps
(totally not real, right?)
and smart thieves using the sound of the storm
to cover any footfalls or break-in attempts
(logic says no one would want to be out in this
crazy
giant drip rain wet snow in the cold windy climate,
but boy do our imaginations
run away with us,
and our dreams take us
exactly to the place(s) we fear
most
and give us the fright
of our life
(or at least
of the night)
and now
everyone
[dog,
cat,
kip, and kip]
needs a nap.
)

December 22, 2021

the desire
to write;
it strikes!

~~~

shortest day of the year
is gone
it came and it went
(with such swiftness)
and now the days start to get longer
again,
and yet,
it starts here…

my slog
my sludge
my molasses of living
my fear
my anxiety
my processing darkness

why do the days feel so much darker
while they get brighter?

~~~

things that make me feel
exceptionally
more feminine:
roughed lips
curved hips
growing out the hair in my armpits.
things that make me feel
exceptionally
more masculine
tailored pants that somehow negate my curves
clenching my jaw until it changes the structure of my bones
imagining just the slightest bit of stubble on my chin
things that make me feel
exceptionally
non-binary:
just
being
me.

August 17, 2021

if i’m
contemplative
too much
i get
existential
and that often leads to
a
crisis
but without
contemplation
i’m left with
mundanity
which therein leads to
boredom
which in turn becomes
agitation
which stems from
anxiety
and
depression
which, while indulging in those
can become
too much
contemplation

[or at least i think those are the appropriate words for all that emotional muck i feel]

August 4, 2021

it’s the dichotomy
between
my very private personality
and my desire/impulse to overshare at every opportunity

it’s the balance to find
between
loving the little luxuries in life
and not feeling fully fulfilled
unless i’m working insanely hard

it’s the desire to be the raw, young talent
switching between
wanting to be respected, knowledgable, wise

it’s the old soul behind a young face,
it’s the bubbling energy inside an aging body

it’s the creativity battling the perfectionism
it’s the wanting to do good, placed against knowledge of how bad it really is

it’s loving humanity
and being so scared of people
all at the same time

it’s the dichotomy

and it’s forever battling inside me

(i have always identified with Aang,
but maybe i’m more like Zuko,
trying to prove myself,
working against insurmountable odds,
until another option shines through
and i realize i didn’t need to work that hard to begin with)

(that analogy didn’t lead where i initially thought it would…)

June 29, 2021

angst
existential and otherwise
feeds into my mind
my brain
my psyche
my being
and though i can take a step to the side
watch as my emotions fill up
saturate
overflow
danger levels
tell myself
to calm down
i’m still sidelined
in my own
mind
the angst
getting the better of me
(getting the worst of me)
(getting the all of me,
all of all of all of me)

and yet
what shows
is just a little bit of an
‘off’
ness
to me

(the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

(didn’t know i was feeling that way this morning
a surprise to everyone around me
including and especially me

again

the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

is there any happiness in my brain today?
or is this maybe the point of morning pages/
morning poetry
to get all this angst out before it hits other people;
if i leave the angst on the page
(on the screen)
(outside of me)
maybe i’ll be better around others
throughout the day?

June 18, 2021

fixed the coffee maker
got so excited
messed it up a different way

new mistakes

~~~

interesting that i poem
about the banal
when i wish for such adventure
in my life

is it simply because poetry
is usually more introspective
than not?

(unless, of course, we are talking old school,
whole story,
epic poetry)

or is its because
i want to get a bit better
and poetry-ing
before i go on such excursions
with words?

~~~

of course
(of course)
i cannot have a short poem day
with only two.
the third poem is what
ties it all together
and makes my anxiety
settle down
(just a bit)

June 15, 2021 (part 2)

the normalcy
is throwing me
eating under an umbrella at a bar/grill,
pushing strollers through outdoor malls,
playing on communal playgrounds…

don’t misunderstand me,
i am fully vaccinated,
and i am aware of how the virus spreads
and the evidence of safety in small outdoor gatherings,
and i am beyond grateful for how things have worked out
and that i finally get to hug my friends tight
(touch being my romantic and platonic love language)

but i’ve lived a year and a half in unknowns
(we all have)
of trying to be as careful as possible and then some
knowing not everyone “believes” in this clearly observable fact,
this virus killing thousands (and leaving more with irreversible repercussions)
so i am used to being overly cautious
and this exploration into ‘normal’

…i am absolutely waiting for the other shoe to drop.

June 9, 2021

a sudden
desolate
feeling

(from where?)
(is it fear?)
(is it unknowns?)
(is it this music?)
(is it simply brain chemistry
once again?)

~~~

i have scores
of unfinished poems
on complex concepts:
identity,
isms (race and otherwise),
individuality,
depression,
misgendering,
gender euphoria,
magical summers,
myself,
others,
and on and on and on
and i hope to some day share them;
feel confident enough in what i’ve already written,
come to some sort of conclusion that helps the poem
stay
important,
feel like the poem expresses what a
Big Concept
should truly express,
but for now i keep slugging along
writing little poems
about my morning
and hoping that
some day
i’ll feel awake enough
to really sift through
those big poems
again.

~~~

i have a secret to tell you
(shh, don’t tell anyone else)
i usually write more than one poem
a morning,
but i’ll save the poem that doesn’t have the right
‘feel’
for that morning
for a different morning,
a morning when i can’t express myself in poetry
(or a morning where i’ve expressed myself too well,
and the poems feel too personal
to share on this here poetry blog),
and i find a secondary poem
from a day long since passed (past?)
and i appropriate it
for that day
to have something to share
to have something to post
(and,
as an overly-honest person,
i wonder if i should make note of these,
write at the bottom
“this poem originally conceived of on ________ date”
but i haven’t yet,
because this poem a day thing is for me,
and posting for others is secondary,
so if i want a record of when poems were written
and when poems were placed elsewhere,
i’d write it down within my drafts
(i already do)
but maybe,
as this blog is a solid gathering
of poems i am ok with being public,
i could indicate this,
also for my own records
just in a different spot…?
maybe?)