the overwhelming ache
of knowing strangers’
wants
and needs
and their own aches
and feeling hopeless
and helpless
even while knowing
individuals cannot save everyone —
it is companies and economies
and governmental systems
that keep those in want
wanting,
and keep those in the place of
being able to give
here
and there
stuck
in overwhelm…
fuck capitalism.
where is our revolution
of kindness?
i wish i wish i wish
i could make consumerism
and capitalism
truly passé
just from saying so
in a poem only i will probably see
perhaps it is so
for me
and i can spread it outwards
from my words and experiences
into my daily life and conversations
and someday
i’ll have helped
make it so
half-formed poems
catastrophizing stuck in my head
until i think i’ll burst if i don’t
say
something
and then it’s there stuck in my throat
when i remember
actual
catastrophes
all while i’m too tired to sleep
and too sad to cry
and everything feels like a clock ticking down
down
down
but to what
inevitable
terror?
[or is this simply life in late-stage capitalism/climate crisis disaster?]
am i
enjoying
my work?
can i
be mad at
capitalism, even whilst i
enjoy my
work?
the questions of the ages of this late stage implosion
a sudden sad
is it the rain?
is it my own mistake
in ordering our breakfast day?
is it my hormones
being completely out of balance?
is it my mood disorder
and some sort of need to meditate?
or is it living under late-stage capitalism,
watching systems that care more for profit
than for people,
and observing tragedies,
wars,
and genocides
half a planet away
that i almost almost almost almost feel
i have some power to stop,
when in reality
i absolutely
do not?
guess it’s probably the rain…
the act of visible mending
is a tiny protest to society’s
constant stream of
‘consumerism’
‘respectability politics’
‘appearance is worth everything’ —
it is taking a learned skill,
applying it
loudly
and proudly
and with imperfections,
and telling capitalism to
kindly
go screw itself.
question all the answers given,
and answer everything that’s asked of you
by a child —
even if your answer is
“i don’t know”
that’s better than lying
or saying “just ‘cuz it’s so”
we need more critical thinkers;
we need more people to grow and go up against
the powers that be
because the powers that be
are just being
rich
and i don’t believe that benefits
anyone
but themselves.
[and we’ve needed something new
for a long long while now]
capitalism
ruining even the most productive
of mornings
~~~
frustrated
distracted
hungry
but not yet ready
what a morning
~~~
banal tasks
take
less mental energy
but
when a sudden need
for that focus arrives
it’s quite jarring
how
can i constantly feel
like a novice
in all i do?
i’ve performed all my life,
but i still feel second/
third/
fourth/fifth/sixth/
end of the line
when it comes to opportunities
for the stage/screen arts.
i’ve had six plus years in the air,
but i’m a perpetual student
here.
i’ve written
every
single
morning
poetry
for over a year and a half,
but i’m still too scared to submit,
to hear the possibility
that i’ll forever be
amateur;
living only for the love of words,
never ‘going anywhere’ with it.
and what’s so bad about that?
capitalism/colonialism/white supremacy
forces our minds to find some meaning
out of what we can produce/expert the field
in a way that makes money—
churn out content/
content/
you need to create more content…
where is the place for creating for the sake of creativity?
and why can’t i find my own balance?
i think
it’s because
i just want to feel
like i know
something.
i want to feel adept/
professional/
expert/
master/
ace/
like i don’t have to second guess every choice i make—
that’s what i want out of my crafts.
success
isn’t always fleeting
sometimes it’s delayed
or avoided
or even unknown
sometimes
success
means something different
from the outside than from the in
sometimes
success
shouldn’t be measured
anyway
because accomplishment
and competition
stem from that same capitalism
that’s ruining
everything
kipventures 