the secrets of the morning
only come out for those who pay
attention
and time
and a little bit of caffeine to the gods of
light birdsong
color-changing skies
a quiet you can’t quite name
and the awareness that
in a world of billions
you can still feel like the only
one
caffeine
June 4, 2026
why
why
why must i keep waking up
in the 5:00 hour
when i don’t actually need to be getting out of bed
until 7am?
is it the sunlight? is it the stress? is it my body craving more time in the day?
is it the heat? is it the animals? is it my to-do list screaming me awake?
is it dehydration? overhydration? is it the caffeine coursing through my veins?
how much how much how much is my body in charge
vs. the external situation(s)
vs. me
September 20, 2025
why
do i so often feel like
coffee is my only friend?
i have many close companions,
even more friendly acquaintances
that i’ve bared my soul to
at a moment or two,
but when left to my own tired devices
in early mornings or late late nights
with no one around
i think to myself “coffee, you’re the only one
i can turn to,
the only one
who understands
the truth of my heart
and the heart of my mind”
it’s so silly to think this way
about an inanimate
ingestible
thing
[whose main cause for being
is the caffeine, which barely affects me
so…even sillier, it seems
to pray at the altar of this
bitter black bean juice
but damn, that seems to be
my only religion
and i stand by it]
June 10, 2025
how
and why
and when
and why do i just want
another cup of coffee
to just chill with
August 21, 2024
the first sip of coffee
creates quite the placebo effect in me —
i know my genetics don’t react that much
to caffeine
nor could the actual waking effect
happen while the liquid
is still in my mouth, but damn
simply tasting
and swallowing
this delicious brown bean soup
kicks my awareness
into overdrive
and i actually feel
kinda awake and alive
for the first time
the first moment
in the day
August 2, 2024
that first sip of coffee
when one is extremely tired
is like the first breath of fresh air
after a held breath
is like opening eyes behind glasses
for the first time
is like a warm summer storm
to wash off everything unneeded
[if only the second and third sips
could remain just as
enlightening]
November 3, 2021
coffee
is the most important meal of the day
coffee
brings me joy in an otherwise too dark/too cold portion of the morning
coffee
is the time i get to spend with my spouse, writing in parallel, making up words and worlds right beside each other.
coffee.
September 3, 2021
this chocolate muffin
is
hitting the spot
just right
tonight
(nah, it’s morning,
just kidding)
and there’s a gorgeous gnome
just beside me
lips painted
a stunning shade of red
to match the hat
and the coffee i’m drinking
may not taste subtly of blueberries
or vanilla from France
(is that what French vanilla actually is?)
but it is coffee,
it is caffeinated,
and apparently
this morning
what i needed more than anything
was hella sugary breakfasts
and hella caffeinated coffee
and a gorgeous gnome beside me.
August 8, 2021
finding the perfect music station
is an art
(one i’m not nearly as familiar with
as my spouse)
and so when i’m doing my morning pages/poems
without them
(because sleep is a necessity)
and have to find some morning tunes
on my own
i never land on
what i initially think i’ll land on…
at least there’s coffee.
~~~
so hungry
but i’m not used to eating while writing
i eat and suddenly i want
passive entertainment
it seems this old dog needs to learn a couple new tricks
~~~
if i leave
and come back
will i keep the thread of morning poetry?
~~~
fed,
caffeinated,
[not yet watered],
and i feel so much better able to
really get into these here morning page poems
is this what i *should* be doing each morning?
instead of simply sipping coffee
and waiting until after i write to eat my breakfast?
or is this simply a daily thing
that changes around
and adjusts
as my own outlook
and mood
and level of tiredness
adjusts
day
by
day
by
day
?
~~~
i mean, if i’m going to be writing a million small poems
(and by a million, let’s be honest and say probably six)
might as well just
truly
go for it.
~~~
the nerves are starting to settle in
about class later on today
(this is why i enjoyed having a circus class prior to acting class
yes, i never got to nap,
but i also never spent half the day worrying about/obsessing over my performance)
i like how our teacher sets up the class
you perform, and then she asks what goals you had for that particular scene or monologue
and this week i’m simply hoping to continue the work
that suddenly broke free two weeks ago.
i want to breathe into the monologue,
i want to be in the moment,
and i want to use my own self-loathing
to create art
instead of beating myself down all the time.
and yes, the ultimate goal is health
and possibly, someday, not constantly feeling like the most worthless hunk of flesh on the planet,
but while that’s what it’s like in my brain,
might as well be honest
and use it to connect with this character i’ve been [not so secretly] wanting to play for ages,
and maybe if i can connect while i’m in the throes of
not-so-great mental health
maybe that means i can find my way in
when i am in a healthier mental state
remember the physical sensations
without being too harsh…
maybe?
but today isn’t about how to get there down the road
that’s not the goal today;
it’s to be in the present
to breathe into the moment
to know that i have all this inside me
and relax
and trust
and simply let myself shine through.
July 14, 2021
once again
my frantic creativity
is failing me
this morning page time
and i know i have things i wanted to write about
and i know i have things i needed to write about
and i know i have things i could be writing about
but the sky feels grey, not blue
and the world seems tipped slightly askew
and i can’t conceive of how long this off-ness will last
(nor if it’s truly a case of of perception,
or if it could simply be a time of transition
asleep to awake
un-caffeinated to caffeinated
cat-lap-less to cat-lap-full
[and let me tell you, those claws in my legs sure helped me wake a little more])
so i suppose i’ll keep writing.
hoping things start making more sense,
hoping the coffee soaks its way to my veins,
pet this cat until my fingers find more words to write
(and forgive her when her affectionate head bumps a few letters out of place)
because this is my life;
i made it.
mine.