thunderstorms
lighting up the sky
behind the lights of the city
sparking joy in my eyes
and midnight evening’s ending
like i’m actually a
new york city artist
thunderstorms
lighting up the sky
behind the lights of the city
sparking joy in my eyes
and midnight evening’s ending
like i’m actually a
new york city artist
hold your breath
count to ten
and count to ten
again
breathing reminds you
you’re still alive
though you’ve spent your whole life
dying
to die
compose yourself
expose your insides
for art
for payment
for friendship
for funzies
for a dare
to anyone out there
who may feel the same way
[though it’s so lonely
in one’s own mind
it’s impossible to imagine
finding company]
wander around
while catatonic to the ground
and know
it’s all in your head
[which is somehow supposed to make it
easier]
[what do they know]
poetry
to keep non-poets away
that is not for me to say
i am here to help you see
the arts are always welcoming
you need only find the place that makes sense
in your own soul
everyone can poem
everyone can paint
everyone can act/sing/dance/make/
do
if you want to
if your drive is to express yourself
[it gets complicated when careers and livelihoods are at stake,
but art for art’s sake —
that is always for
every
one]
they say to be a good actor
you have to live some life first
is the same true about writers?
they say “write what you know”
and if you know shelter and
safety and never worrying
and never feeling anything
won’t your writing be…
kinda beige?
but as a writer,
as an actor,
as a poet,
we feel things with the intensity of a human being
thrust into the sun a thousand times over;
we take our [possibly mundane] lives
and crank our imagination up to eleven;
we seek experiences to suck life from
and try to make art from the remnants…
is simply living life too much for an artist,
or is it exactly what the artist needs?
[or am i over-thinking everything]
[and isn’t that what creatives do, too?]
when one job
one gig
one life
gets in the way of
another job/
gig/
life
it’s annoying
it’s frustrating
it’s bad but it’s not terrible
because this is what i mean[t] when i say[said]
i cannot
stay in one lane
my
entire
existence
[so i suppose
this is the price
to pay]
i think my lot in life
is to fight fascism with
art
humanity
and softness
i don’t know how much of an impact i can make
but i can make you think about the fact that i don’t consider
fascists
humans
and perhaps that’s enough to get our brains working on critical thinking once more
art
and artists
are the only things making me
hopeful
right now
[perhaps my art
could bring hope
to someone, somewhere]
perhaps my desire is to educate
perhaps my destiny is to entertain
perhaps i just need to make folks aware
that the issues seen here and there
are systemic
systematic
and sometimes
on purpose
because the problem with conspiracy theories
is that there is a fine, fine line
between a theory about something crazy
and a retelling of something
that has actually happened
to a non-white person
in the past
[and, honestly, today]