December 29, 2022

this morning
the pages don’t flow
they flitter
glitter shimmering past my peripheral
if i follow the train of thought
i want
i’ll be leaving this subject matter behind
but what is it i’m trying to find?

am i aiming for polish
for pristine
for perfection
or could it be
the messy/testing/trying out
glitter flittering in and out
dopamine hitting my starved system
will fill it far more than
niceness served for nicety’s sake

who am i kidding?

i am a perfectionist and a completionist
i can aim for both at once
it doesn’t matter that that would require
a physically impossible arrow
more time in the day than is there now
legitimately anything different than what i bear
but now
i can admit my silly ways
my impossible aims
and even if i still want what i literally cannot have
at least i know it
and that’s progress

right?

December 18, 2022

i keep having ideas
good ideas
great fucking ideas
for poems
and essays
and thought pieces
when i’m on the train
when i’m out walking post-rain
when i don’t have my computer with me
and my words come faster than a notebook would suit me
so i just leave it dormant
in my head
hoping against hope
that it’ll all be there again
when i have my things/solitude/words/supplies
but it’s all lies
i know the words are there
and the concept needs to be shared
i’m just
plain
scared.

December 4, 2022

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.

October 3, 2022

oh yeah!
i wrote
last night

creatively
script-ily
a whole scene

i can do it
i can write
(other than poetry)

but i sure can
still write
a whole bunch
of
poems

~~~

there are things
to do
today

and i’m actually
excited
to do them?

~~~

sad
puppy dog eyes
gazing up at me
as if i could protect her
from everything

i will try, Computer,
i will try

August 31, 2022

sleepy puppies
and writing spouses
sneaky cats
and work on houses
long-ass days
and even longer nights
when there is no internet to help
with career or comfort plights

a twenty-first century struggle bus

~~~

how is it that
when i skip one day of writing
i feel like i’ve lost
every fibre of creativity
and every ounce of self-discipline
and every last little thing i learned
over the past near year and a half?

~~~

one more poem
one more rhyme
simply to get myself
better in my mind
to see the time
and time again roll
to see myself
as i always wanted to be
and to finally see me
as i was meant to be
futuristically
and fully

August 24, 2022

sometimes
creativity
just needs a
change of scenery—
a trip to the coffee shop
or to a whole new continent
but sometimes, a simple switch
from table to couch
is all that was needed

~~~

interesting—

i pride myself on variety
on variating my verbs and adjectives
and nouns
too;
repeated words and phrases
(unless used in threes or themes)
cause me such duress
that half my writing time is spent
searching
for the
perfect
word
in thesauruses
and dictionaries
online—
trying to continue the thought
but include intentional alliteration
without the clumsiness of
a word
repeated—
to me that is the mark of a novice
or just a messy writer
(maybe not when others do it,
but definitely when it shows up in my work)

but
the last few days, i’ve had
repeated words
a couple of same-phrases
sitting in close proximity
in one poem
without the third to make it a theme
and i think my soul is experimenting with
imperfection
with finding a simple/correct phrase
and sticking to it—
embracing
the words my mind came up with in the moment
and going with it

and seeing what comes of it.

~~~

i’m writing
and writing
and writing down
the thoughts as they come
the words as they crown
(is that rhyme too obvious?
that metaphor too gross?
or perhaps just too femme-y
for male-bodied bros?)
but my intention
for this one poem
is simply to keep going
keep writing
keep growing
keep feeding the fire
and the belly of desire
to write words forever
(or at least until my word count
inspires
an ending)

April 3, 2022

the day is gray
and rainy
and my capacity sits at the precipice
of being awake and creative enough
to write and read and work and create
and all those good things,
and that of succumbing to the drear
of the clouds and rain and outside
drain my creativity
until my body floats like vapor
up to the sky

[[[to fly?]]]

March 10, 2022

emotions
swirling
around
scattered and unfounded
(at least half of them)

~~~

do i want to
do work
then
be creative,
or can i
somehow
find the creativity
inside the work?

~~~

all the possibilities
and none of the
decision-making confidence.

~~~

all?
or none?
or some?
now?
or later?
or combine?
or alone?
or is it even worth it?

~~~

i wish i remembered what it was like
to find my path of thought
through
the poetry at my fingertips
instead of
halting
phrases
catching
words
tiny poems
barely scratching the surface
of all that’s underneath
this rainbow hair…

~~~

if i trace the keyboard
gently
will it make the words come easier?
will the emotions be quantifiable
and able to be categorized
and boxed up
and shipped out
to future me
to deal with
in a different [head]space?

March 2, 2022

even the poem
i wrote
about having trouble
writing poems
this morning
feels so cheap
and distant
and alien
to what is actually happening in my brain
at the moment
so i guess
i’ll write
this tiny diatribe
about
‘blah’ness
and ‘meh’ness
and the ‘blargh’ that i’ve been
chanting in my head
all morning
and see
where this
all takes me…