not knowing what to write about
when i don’t even know
if i have time to write it
[but family is worth it]
not knowing what to write about
when i don’t even know
if i have time to write it
[but family is worth it]
outside
writing morning poetry
in the afternoon
listening to the sweet melodies
of trains and planes and crows above me
and the puppy pacing to keep up with everything that needs investigating
i do kind of wish we would have spent more time outside
before the weather turned from mildly warm
to HOT
and this isn’t even the hottest it’ll be
not even close
but
we’ll deal with the sweat
and embrace the sun
[or hide underneath the sail of shade]
and let the puppy play with us
and keep the cat
well hidden
inside
from afternoon
outside time
it always seems to be
the most uncomfortable room
that folks congregate into.
the coldest,
without squishy chairs,
(or distractions
from family
from conversation
from time spent together).
and we can’t help it
if
this is the room with the best table
for poetry-writing,
for programming,
and closest to the coffee machine
for an endless supply of
refills,
and the room where there is space
for projects,
for light saber lessons,
and where the view is the sunniest
and most green
there are sad firsts:
first thanksgiving without big family
first thanksgiving without talking with my dad at dinner
first thanksgiving spent traveling
and then
there are the fun firsts:
first thanksgiving with Kip’s family
(first time all family and partners in one place at one time)
first thanksgiving solidly baking pies all day
(instead of just treating it like a social get-together)
first thanksgiving learning new traditions
(ones that the rest of the kids know so well they can recite lines from memory
before the muppets even start speaking)
and
first thanksgiving that i’m doing my best
to
appreciate family,
but hold them accountable,
and to remember the root of the ‘first’ ‘thanksgiving,’
and everything/everyone this country is built
on top of.
the parade
the family
the performances
the silly dancing credit cards
the soldering
the excitement
the traveling
the traditions
(new and old)
here i come
here we come
here i go
here
we
go
Family means so much
to so many people
my genetic relatives profess
Family
as the utmost of all people
those who have your back no matter what
the only humans you can truly count on
(most of them still live within a thirty minute drive of each other to this day.)
my friends, my community, unaccepted within their blood kin
find Found Family
to love them
without reservation
without expectation
without conditions
and count on each other
i am lucky enough to have both
blood and non-blood relations
who love me
unconditionally
but that brings with it
division of time
of love
of feelings
of celebrations
(and it is only the Family from birth
who saw me grow as i did
which is sometimes a good thing
and sometimes a not so good thing;
and there are memories,
sometimes lovely
sometimes hard
when in their company)
but
there is an awfully grand sense of growing
when i am able to fully help with the labor
i only ever messed up or ignored
as a child;
and to be able to pass that on to
the children younger than myself…
that feeling, it’s
Indescribable.
shorter time for
Morning Poetry
equals
more time for
Family Hangouts!
(but i still need the Morning Poetry time
to be able to be a person
among Family)
i didn’t think that
being on a stage
would make me emotional
(and to be fair,
it didn’t make me
cry
or
giggle
or elate
or spiritualize
or anything like that)
but seeing
rows
upon rows
of seats
(though empty)
from center stage
brought me a sense of
calmness
that i haven’t felt in
literal
years.
more driving
more music
more memories
more food
more family
[more time?]
(((…less internet)))
the joyful teasing
the conviviality of being around each other
the discussing
planning
problem-solving
the sharing, watching, playing
the family.
~~~
observation;
my downfall
[/upfall?]
~~~
can i
just
be good at acting
[on my own]
without needing such guidance
to stop overthinking?
[please???]