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
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
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
i felt so motivated yesterday
(and the day before that)
and i know i did some of the things
on the to-do list,
but i did much less than
i originally
expected
and i need to be ok with that
i need to be ok with that
i need to remind myself that
i need to be ok with that
because otherwise
i’m just capitalism’s
newest victim
and fuck capitalism
~~~
fly
spy
in the sky
i wonder why
you need to fly
around our home and spy
on us
~~~
this
cotton
candy
coffee
is the silliest thing i’ve ever tasted
and it just makes me
smile
smile
smile
~~~
how do i absorb
the lessons i’ve learned
in trying to help others?
i.e. the advice i’ve given,
can i/will i ever
take it myself?
is there ever
a magical wand for
turning kindness inward?
~~~
the poems today
aren’t turning out great,
but they’re not bad, either,
they’re just there
and that’s all they need to be
at this moment
in
time
~~~
do you ever feel
so tired
and yet so hyped up
that you feel like
if you followed your energy
you’d vibrate until
your skin just kind of
shucked itself off of your bones?
…nah, me neither
welcome,
those of you who have decided
against
celebrating the us’s birthday,
glad you’ve arrived!
not to say i’ve been here that long;
i always kind of half-heartedly enjoyed
the fireworks
the cookouts
the bonfires
because
they were fun
but i never felt that loved by this country
(even after ‘marriage equality’ was bestowed upon me);
my last ‘official’ july 4th was
2019.
in 2020 i listened as
people who don’t look like me
confronted july 4th
and taught me what
holding a country accountable
could look like
in 2021 i had a quiet day;
bettering myself in an acting class
run by a
trans
woman
of color
immigrent
who let me let my
witchy poet side
rise
and this year…
this year it’ll be another quiet one.
our plans are simple:
my spouse is creating their own company
with the intention to make life better
for those who have to deal with this
capitalistic hellscape;
and i will be making art for protest–
embroidery,
and writing,
rehearsing for queer shows,
and reading more words by more folks
who don’t look like me/
who weren’t raised in the privileges i was raised/
but we still have so much in common.
and the two of us, my spouse and i,
we won’t spend any money
(except in donation
to those who need
more than we),
we’ll make our own food
and cut our own hair,
mend our own clothes,
and give each other care,
and maybe some seeds will sprout today
(both literally and figuratively)
that will give future us even more reason
to stop giving to this country
until this country gives back
to those it’s taken from.
(it’s a small protest, we know
but maybe, if you can do a little bit, too,
we might be able to dismantle
systems of oppression
bit
by bit
by bit)
so, welcome,
those of you who have decided
against
celebrating this day today,
we’re so glad you’re here.
constitutional protections
to life
liberty
and the pursuit of happiness
are being stripped away to reveal
all we ever had
was the right to make money
for others
~~~
i’m all for corpse rights
but
when a dead person has more
bodily autonomy
than 50% of living citizens
something seems
off
~~~
although
with gun rights the way
they are
we might be dead soon anyway
so…
…yay upcoming rights?
it is
very
hard to concentrate this morning
and i don’t know if it’s from
the stress of last night
or
the vividness of the dreams
or
the sadness of this morning
or
the lack of coffee in my bloodstream
or what
but
it is
very
extremely
extraordinarily
bizarrely
quite
hard to concentrate this morning.
~~~
i feel like i’m getting a better handle
on what makes my poetry
my poetry
(but i really have
absolutely
no idea
still
about what makes any poetry
‘good poetry’)
~~~
i would like to write
another
slam poem;
start a flow
and just go,
balance out the rhythm and rhyme
with internal structure,
alliteration,
and find
the transitions,
the cues,
from one section
to anther,
playing with words
and meaning
and framing
the repeating
as metaphor
as a tool
as a lock to turn the key
and find out something new
about me,
about life,
about our home planet earth,
and our collective strife
to stay alive
when all we want
is eternal sleep
(not necessarily because
death is the answer we’re looking for,
but because all these
isms
and power structures
and so-ingrained made up concepts
keep us so wide awake
that sleep seems a necessity
we never get to get
[when was the last time you had
an actual
honest to goodness
no stress
very good
night’s sleep?]
so i guess
that’s what this poem’s about:
the collective trauma
that is
white supremacy/capitalism/america
and how the one thing
that could give us
the fight
we need
to dismantle it
is the the thing
it keeps us
from doing
every
single
night.
(and are my daytime naps
my making up
for this lack,
or is that just a symptom
of the depression
my awareness
of these systems
gives me?)
((or is that a subject
for another poem
for another day?))
pondering
but not writing
thinking
but not prose-ing
mulling
but not having anything to show for it
(but isn’t that the point of meditating on a subject?
you get a better idea of your own relationship to it
without having the capitalist urge to prove it?)
(maybe?)
(i do a lot that stems from capitalism,
though i abhor the entire philosophy,
or at least the way it’s influenced us societally;
i feel the need to constantly be productive
and have something useful grow from that productivity…
but sometimes humans just need to human,
sit around,
enjoy company,
enjoy having a body–
but i’ve been taught that my body is lesser,
and therefore i should change it to redeem its worth,
and the idea of simply enjoying my body
as is,
natural,
and naturally,
is revolutionary…
and boy do i love breaking rules
and being contrary,
so why do i still feed into this capitalist myth
by feeling it necessary to not feed this body?
…different parts of me feel so at odds
all the time)
i could be resistant to capitalism
in so many better
more revolutionary ways:
revolutionary love
revolutionary joy
revolutionary rest,
but i choose to stress
and strike
against my body’s needs
and worry about all who can’t be
anti-capitalist revolutionaries
and worry about those who buy into capitalism
and patriarchy
and white supremacy
and worry about pretty much everyone
and everything
(because, i’ll bet, if i’m worrying
i can’t be bringing revolution)
but also,
revolutionarily,
an entire change in structure/mindset/philosophy
is not solely mine to bring,
this is just another capitalist myth
clouding my mind
once more;
humans are social creatures
and we can depend on one another.
no one pulls themselves entirely up by their bootstraps,
there will always be someone willing to give them a chance,
or an account full of parents’ cash for the ‘just in case’ fall,
so why
why
why
do i buy
into this story
that i need to be
solo
for
ever
to have
any
worth?
capitalism;
coming to a brain-washing station
near you.
i felt like
two days ago
i was worried it was close to the end of the month
then i found out
it wasn’t even the 20th yet
and today, today it’s the beginning of May
and my sense of time hasn’t been this off
since the beginning of the Global Patrick Stewart
last year
(over a year
ago
now)
and i have to wonder
if my sense of time is off
or if i just looked at the calendar wrong
or if time is a myth
and a mortal construction
and any feelings of ‘shoulds’
within the constraints of
‘time’
are all a product of capitalism
which in itself is a product of white supremacy
and we should be dismantling it all,
right?
kipventures 