August 23, 2024

i’ve been feeling the draw
to compose my own stories
worlds
universes
but that’s the extent to which
this emotion/inspiration has taken me
just the desire
not the inspiration
not the story
not the need
just
the vibe

[but i think i need a little more than
a vibe
to convince this maybehd brain
to actually
do it]

August 16, 2024

pretend
for a moment
you don’t know where you came from
or to what you’re going
or even any established rules
about your own identity
or the world at large and little
and you go to craft a poem —
would you know what words to use
would you innately be aware of rules and parameters
poetry has to work around and within
or would you just write what was in your soul
even if the words in your soul had no words at all?

and would that still be poetry?

[i think so]

June 6, 2024

here we go
into the flow
of a habit
we’re tracking
and i’m tricking myself
[or at least it feels like it]
into feeling like i can actually
write more poetry
when i don’t have a creative bone in my body
[again, all perceptions
from the realm of the brain]
and i can’t even think of something i’d like to address
because everything feels overwhelming
to the point where i’m just beating myself up about
not doing anything
as i can feel the trauma of the whole situation
bearing down
and bearing through
what little defenses i had up
i had going
and i’m too hungry to think of good rhymes
and i’m too tired to conenct any of the lines
from here to there
from Palestine to liberation
but i know it’s here
somewhere
i know it’s there
and through it all we can liberate
the Congo and Sudan and Haiti
and everywhere else people look like me — in that i have two eyes
and a nose
and a mouth that smiles
and a heart that feels
and ears that love to hear stories
and the human condition is so much more
and so much less
than we make it out to be

the human condition is being human
here
on this planet

please
let’s not
lose it.

May 12, 2024

certain music makes me certain
there’s magic somewhere in the air
maybe we can’t see it
maybe we can’t know it
but maybe we can feel it
in our core
in our bones
in our soul
where other magic lays in wait
for the perfect moment
to show its face
to provide a fate
out of the ordinary

[what is creativity
if not a magic of the mind?]

April 30, 2024

the drive to write is strong —
but what to write about
never seems to come along —
like i’m sitting at a type-writer
or a pen and paper notebook
and i am hovering above what
could very well be brilliant
imagery/alliteration/metaphor
and simile and allegory all
stuck together, but instead my
pen/finger tip just shudders,
the ache of keeping it up
too long as i wait, the heaviness
of the potential i feel in my
body mind and soul too much
too much for one little
writing utensil/blank screen
to hold, so instead i write
about nothing, i write about
wanting to write, i write over
and over again meta poems that
never seem to come to any sort
of fruition or resolution or
conclusion, and i continue
to write and write and write

and here i am again…

April 13, 2024

don’t craft
after
11pm

each creative has
different rules/
a different time
to ~stop~ by

but

the guidance remains the same:
there is a moment when
you are too tired to
cut/poke holes/hot glue/craft however you do —
decisions made when brains crave sleep
are never decisions awake brains will keep
[and some decisions are
more permanent/less fixable
than others]