poetry
to keep non-poets away
that is not for me to say
i am here to help you see
the arts are always welcoming
you need only find the place that makes sense
in your own soul
everyone can poem
everyone can paint
everyone can act/sing/dance/make/
do
if you want to
if your drive is to express yourself
[it gets complicated when careers and livelihoods are at stake,
but art for art’s sake —
that is always for
every
one]
the everyday tasks
of being alive
[why is feeding one’s body so much more important
in our society
than feeding one’s soul?]
impart my own passions to me
and i’ll show you how cheap food can taste
when it is only for the nourishment
of keeping oneself alive
[i, along with every human deep down, wish more to
Thrive]
getting up
getting ready
taking the puppy on a walk
sitting down to write
or eat
or prepare for the day
then going about the day
which could be any number of things:
circus
or
a script reading
or
teaching aerial to children
or
grand jury these days
[but only for four more days]
or
[and these are the days i miss]
just chilling at home
kissing the puppy
cuddling with the cat
taking a nap
doing some household chores
taking whatever time i want to take
and
maybe
writing a little more
[when will i get time
to be creative
throughout my days
again?]
i feel at odds
with my own creativity
with my own wants and needs
with my own life as i’m living it
amongst people
everything feels so fallible
so ephemeral
and i suppose it all is
it’s just, there might be some time
before all the skills and abilities
and friends and life
leaves us
so we might as well have fun while we can
[rather than worrying ourselves
into complete stagnancy]
the creativity is bubbling up
boiling and broiling
until a mess ends up over the sides of the pot
roiling down the sides
and onto the stove itself
and the question is:
was the creative endeavor one that would
put the flame that ignited the creative spark
out
or
is it one that is incendiary and will
continue to burn
until it consumes
the whole house?
create
creativity
and let it all flow out of me
until a time when we can all be
free
free
free
quiet the mind
just enough to hear the important thoughts/
the creative thoughts/
the thoughts that are often drowned out
by anxiety rambling
and existential depression blues
there may be creative moments
inside those diatribes
but i’ve heard enough of them to know —
it’s getting past them
that the true me
lies
[in truth]
kipventures 