i’ve been unintentionally rhyming
for a little while now
and i don’t know
how
i feel about it.
~~~
more words
more feelings
more emotions
more muck
to get out of my system
and out of my brain
to stream through the eyes/fingertips
onto a screen
where words seem so foreign
when writing from the heart
but here i am
here i go
here i
start
~~~
i’ve got good stuff
lately
and again
i don’t know how
i feel about
it
had big enough feels
to feel the need
to express it
sans poetry
via prose
and who knows
how that ended up
but i might re-read
and edit
and submit it
at a later date
so folks who might not know
start to understand
how emotional labor
takes its
toll
i did it
i performed my own poetry
i read it out loud
for people
and the people
felt
emotions
is this another aspect
of poetry as the opposing side
to prose’s analytic/logic basis?
is poetry’s purpose both
to come from a place of true emotionality
but also
to affect the reader/listener
empathetically?
and how do i come at this craft
from such a brainy/overthinking origin
just to affect those i’m reading to
so profoundly in the feels?
there’s a feeling
deep
in the pit of my stomach
and i can’t figure out
if it’s
Change
or Apprehension
or Jealousy
or what
but it’s there
and the faster i try to flee from it
the harder it holds on
so
perhaps
this is simply my companion
for the next few hours/
days/
weeks/
months
and i suppose i’ll try to make it an okay home
dealing with
A Thing™
emotions crashing against my walls
like tidal waves
tsunamis
of bitterness
resentment
betrayal
confusion
trust issues at it once more
and i just want to act
to do my best with my art
and i hope i can feel my ocean
while still remaining true to myself
and my scene partner
and the scene we’ve put together
but what happens
when you always come back
to feeling
just
a little bit
abandoned?
internally
raw
worn
torn
injured
maybe bleeding
(maybe healing?)
~~~
i look at the the date
“happy manniversary!” i tell my kip
“i didn’t do anything…” they say, as their face falls
from their initial surprise-joy
“it’s ok” i say, hoping to turn the mood
from sadness
to a dark humor
that will also then
bring us down
again
to all that’s been:
“two years ago today
we were
~supposed~ to be seeing
Hadestown.”
we laugh
and sigh
and continue on inside
as the pandemic still goes on
(as much as folks pretend it isn’t
with lax guidelines
and ignoring science
and pleas from healthcare workers
falling
not on deaf ears
but on those that simply
wish not to hear)
outside.
~~~
my poetry this morning
seems to be coming from a different place
a place of allowing
the cacophony
and angst
to broil itself down
to the basics
of words
and feelings
and leaving
them all
on the page[screen]
[[[for once]]]
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?
oh
no
i’m just here to
watch
observe
pacify my narrative stance
get only a glance
of the workings of humanity
then back to my hobbit-hole
to deconstruct the feelings
i observed:
there was anger
happiness
sadness
hope
the scope
of human emotion
is like a commotion
inside a cacophony
inside an explosion
and me, this entity of inquiry
cannot bear even one feel
bubbling to the top of their
chest/heart/lungs/brain
how do humans regain
control
of their larger selves
when their emotions run the show
so
constantly?
maybe
if i could name
my illogical passions
i could fashion some sort of
hocus focus
back into human-hood
but i cannot seem to seam the words together with the sensations
i simply follow the thought processes
and process
the thought
but the emotions
stay hidden
no light
just dark
so i keep looking
for the light
keep observing
the entities
who know how to emote
fully
freely
until that is me.
in that strange way
i’m feeling very much a certain way
a solid emotion?
[that never happens;
i am a master intellectualizer]
i suppose my one emotion
is the burgeoning of emotions.
in therapy i’m asked
‘how does that make you feel?’
and i can follow my thought process
what it makes me think of
the connections i make with past/present/future
but emotions? what a laugh.
[is my go-to coping mechanism no longer humor?]
intellectualizing is a fine coping mechanism
for someone not trying to actually get in touch with their emotions
but as an actor, i’d like to have a whole toolbox to play with
not just ‘all good emotions’
not just ‘all emotions that aren’t too tough’
not just ‘all emotions that don’t make me feel out of control’
my biggest fear is going crazy, losing control on my concept of reality
and if i let the ‘bad’ emotions in, how will i ever be able to stop them?
how will i stay in control of where/who/what i am,
when i feel like i’m a pre-teen and in Ohio and totally out of control
when i feel even a shadow
of those feels
i know i should
i know it’ll be good for me
i know i won’t lose touch with all of reality
but that doesn’t make it any less scary.
kipventures 