June 10, 2021

i feel as though
i have very little to say lately
going through and posting poems
from this experiment of poetry journaling
poetry-every-day-ing
poetry for poetry’s sake
-ing
and i used to have so much to say
even if it was just writing about writing about writing about writing
the lilt of the poems
lifting off the screen
i could feel the tempo in my mouth
but lately
i’ve been
ever
so
slightly
more
stagnant.

May 21, 2021

should i still be aiming for a word count
if my goal is simply a kind of getting in touch with my creativity
my brevity
my word choice
my ability?

going through poems the other day,
in a frenzy to organize my most disorganized thoughts,
gave me the reminder that i once wrote five hundred words
easily
in one poem
my structure was simply
get the thought out
ponder it
in poem form
use the words
sparingly
but still explore
within words
what the concept means to me

do i not do that anymore?
or was the long form a new addition to the creative family
taking up residence in my brain?

kipventures poetry started out as shorter form,
some days only one to three lines
describing a whole adventure in a strange new place

so…why does nothing feel that familiar anymore?

should i explore what this family of creatives does
in my head?
or is that a one-off concept
simply useful for that singular line
and
(ope, another random memory
this time the apartment kip and i shared
in that house
in Pittsburgh
[what is it with Pittsburgh
recently?]
the sunlight streaming in through the attic bedroom windows
the weird mirrored closet doors
driving around
five below
dunken donuts vegan bacon on bagel breakfast sandwiches
that whole summer
stressful
and yet
such good memories)
what even was i talking about?

i went off on another tangent
in my brain
of when kip and i were first together
mowgli hadn’t even been born yet
but louka was living her
hard dog life
(in dog jail, if the stories are true)
and how do/will i feel about that?
if we do end up being able to adopt
and our baby is already born as of right now
am i going to look back on this time and think
‘i was so privileged, and our baby was so not,
what was i doing enjoying my life
while our baby was in trouble?’
but i can’t know that now
there are too many possibilities
to ponder
i know this is the anxiety
but it also feels like the worst super-power;
i can imagine and contemplate and see all paths,
past, present, future,
the possibilities endless
and they are all in my
stupid human brain
the insurmountable number
being
what makes my brain
damn near explode
(maybe i am super-human
simply from being able to hold all those possibilities
without any sort of fiery
boom,
but who knows;
it’s building up
it could happen
any day
now…)

May 19, 2021

my brain
(and bod)
are doing better than they were
the shaking and jittering
the depression and hopelessness
the overly-energized listlessness
are all but gone

but echos remain
and remind me of
whatever the fuck that was
that drove me damn near insane
(or, at least, reminded me of that time
my sanity was not quite a certainty)
and certainly
i’m still careful
traversing on the tiniest of eggshells,
wishing that the weight of what happened last week
would give me fodder for effortless poems
beautiful language
pleasing sounds in my mouth and ears and eyes
(and a sudden reminder of church lock-ins long since past
passes my eyes in a blink
and after being gone
in Pittsburgh, i think, was that particular church,
in less than a second
i’m back)
the creativity i used to have
isn’t gone
it’s just a little bit
changed.

(i mean,
yeah i wrote five million slam-poem-beginnings in high school,
but when did i write a whole ass novel?
that’s right, this year, damnit!)

May 16, 2021

i want to do
something
with all these poems
posting them seems the best option
but also
i’m scared.
i’m scared of people seeing them
i’m scared of no one seeing them
i’m scared i’ll succeed
i’m scared i’ll fail
i’m scared of so many things
(when did i get so scared?)

~~~

creativity
breeds
creativity

depression
breeds
depression

just keep that in mind.

~~~

oh
when did i start writing
for me?

May 9, 2021

to wake up
the next day
and the next day
and the next day
forever feels like
[exhaustion]

but some people see it as
opportunity
and i’d love to be one of those people

[maybe one day?]

~~~

cold air
makes me feel
so forlorn
even in the springtime
when it should be a reminder of
where we just were
(though it’s barely the temperature we’re coming from)
it feels like
everything is dying again
and i’ll be placed in my
hibernation
for my own good
because otherwise
that hibernation
would beg to be
permanent.

~~~

to create
or not to create
[for the zine]
that
really isn’t a question at all.

when one has an endeavor
that one is excited about
that one wants to be
at least close to great
one will do it
and do it
proudly.

October 2, 2020

i first touched a lyra
(in order to play inside)
in 2010
and for six years
i didn’t touch one again
but from January 2016
to March 2020
i never stayed away more than three weeks
it’s been 6 and a half months
it’s been 6 months
two weeks
three days
since i last touched a lyra
(since i last touched any circus apparatus)
(since i last knew what it was like to fly)
and i am not expecting a lot
from tomorrow
i know my muscles have weakened
my flexibility has lessened
my (un)calloused hands can’t hold myself up
nearly as long as
once they did
i am not expecting much
because the world is still uncertain
and a virus is still ‘at loose’
and i know anything, absolutely anything
could happen
but i hope i get to remember what it felt like to fly
to be truly free
truly in the moment
(to enjoy being alive)
and i hope
for one hour
i can fully experience that all
again
and maybe plan for
a next time.

July 21, 2020

last night there was a cockroach
poking its feelers out from it’s rooftop hideaway
and at night it caught me by the creeps

but today in the
afternoon brightness
complete with my coffee and sun hat
i’m not quite as creeped

and maybe that’s the lesson for today:
the despair from yesterday
can turn to creativity today
which maybe someday could develop into
flow[tomorrow]

April 29

the ups and DOWNS of 
DISease
DISsatisfaction
DISparities
DIStancing

one moment i am creating more than i’ve created in my past three lifetimes
the next moment i cannot bear to do anything but 
DIStract

how can one live (fully)
in this time
without careening 
OFF
this roller coaster?

 


 

to live
to be live
to be alive
to be a live-
ing
breathe-
ing
hum-
an
BE-
ing