it always seems to be
the most uncomfortable room
that folks congregate into.
the coldest,
without squishy chairs,
(or distractions
from family
from conversation
from time spent together).
and we can’t help it
if
this is the room with the best table
for poetry-writing,
for programming,
and closest to the coffee machine
for an endless supply of
refills,
and the room where there is space
for projects,
for light saber lessons,
and where the view is the sunniest
and most green
coffee
November 11, 2021
cat coffee mug
tail as handle
oh no…
you’re empty
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.
October 5, 2021
spooky music
soothes my soul
[it really does,
though i may have poem’ed about this before]
and what began
as a
‘too tired’
‘still a little stressed’
‘ugh we have to deal with all these boxes now’
kind of day
has turned into a
‘skeletons are already up’
‘it’s spooky season!’
*bopping head along with music*
*sipping [[seasonal]] iced coffee*
‘look at all these books i get to organize now!’
kind of morning
September 26, 2021
in the morning
these pages
[these poems]
soothe me,
subdue me,
make me
more pliable
less early-morning-needing-a-strech-stiff-as-fuck,
and if the night has been restless
with less sleep than is ever needed
by me
i can sort through the fog
and become more of a person
(more of a me)
than i was in the deep dark depths of the
strugglenight
it used to be that
taking the glasses off
and sticking the contacts in
my eyes
was my way of waking up,
but recently
it seems
the sudden alertness
has been replaced with
a
slow, steady awareness
of the day
beginning
as i type out
my thoughts
moment by moment
word by word
letter by letter
thought by thought
[with, of course, the gracious assist
of a mug full of cold coffee
to aid as need be]
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.
June 30, 2021
change
is a-comin’
and it’s ok to be scared
and it’s ok if it’s not right away
and it’s ok if it’s not exactly what/how we think
but change is coming
and coming
and coming
and maybe
i’ll change
too.
~~~
writing poetry
quick lines,
every now and then
an almost rhyme,
and i wonder if the greats
ever wrate
[wrote]
this way;
half asleep
as a way to wake-up
coffee in hand
cat in lap
pondering the possibilities
of whole pieces
(but only thinking
one or two words
at a time)
~~~
quick!
major inspiration
flow through me now!
poetry
prose
fiction
creative-non
monologues
whole scripts
anything
something
please, universe, please?
June 25, 2021
coffee beats
caffeine beats
coffee beans
coffee club
caffeine caffeine
(will there ever be a time
that covfefe might be an adorable memory from the past
instead of the trigger
it is now?)
(doubtful)
~~~
my head is pounding
from my sinuses
to…the rest of my body
(all from my sinuses)
(my sinuses are fully to blame)
and i’m blaming my sinuses
also
for not feeling
quite
fully
awake.
~~~
are these half-asleep
ramblings
the things
i really want in my poetry blog?
(when haven’t they been?)