September flew by
in a matter of seconds
days filled with
stress and driving
and planning and writing
and arriving
in time to say goodbye
and the weeks between now and back then
feel like blips
made of minutes that took forever
and this whole month
took no time at all
grief
September 25, 2023
at least i
can somehow make my
direst terrible feelings
fly
into beautiful words
and verses of pure emotion
while i sit by
and feel it
feel it’s
overwhelming me
daily
but in a few days/weeks/months maybe
hopefully
i’ll look back and think of it as art
September 20, 2023
i keep expecting
creativity
and inspiration
and catharsis
and exhalation
and something big
out of this tragedy
but i seem to just be
sad
September 19, 2023
so many days
and yet, things are still the same
so much/
so whirlwind/
and yet, things are still the same
we’ll continue on with our daily tasks —
the chores that need to be done/
the bagels we eat every morning/
the minutes will continue to tick past/
and we’ll get back into patterns and routines and the mundane/
but things will never be the same
September 18, 2023
trying to remember
what happened in four days
that all blur together
but also seem dissonant
like opposite ends of the piano
keys plunking notes
irreverently
like the states we drove through
were whole countries
while we tried
to grapple
mentally
and physically
like
night
and day time
aren’t parts of one whole cycle —
the world is filled with dusks and dawns
and rain sometimes falls where there’s sunshine
and rainbows can welcome
you
home
September 17, 2023
it’s ok
if you have nothing to say
it’s ok
if you’re still processing
emotions/
cataclysms in your heart-mind
it’s ok
if you can’t quite cry yet
you will
you will
September 16, 2023
even
unable
to open her eyes
or speak specific words
she still twitched her mouth and hand
to let me know
she knew
i was there
and that is so much
comfort
October 20, 2022
words are unworthy
of the emotions of tragedy
they cheapen the expanse of feeling
to two-dimensional digestion
for others’ entertainment
but words are all i have
and my brain tends to forget how to feel
in these moments anyway
so while my mind starts in on the journey
of comprehension
before my heart catches up
(which’ll be in a day or two or three
i expect)
i’ll say the only words
that keep coming up
and up again
i hope (and believe) you knew you were so loved
and say hello to Lynnette for all of us, please
and we still believe
in The Power
Of Good
May 17, 2022
one thing i had forgotten
until i started staring at pictures
from the first few months with Louka
was a word i experienced for the first time
when helping guide her out of her scared dog shell:
Rewarding.
i remember telling folks:
“i never knew what this word meant,
until i spent six months coaxing the first tail wag
out of her”
“i don’t use this term lightly,
but rescuing
and helping a dog grow..
there’s no other word for it.”
“i always thought this was a dumb concept,
but i understand now
when i look at her
loving eyes”
the heart-full feeling
that i was feeling
when saying
“it’s so rewarding”
catches in my throat
and stutters with tears,
both grateful and grieving,
now that she’s gone…
helping Louka was rewarding,
but Louka herself
was such an amazing reward;
i know i’ll never forget that.
April 29, 2022
so much poetry
about tired/sleepiness
about writing poetry
about grief and grieving
but where’s the poetry for me?
where’s the poetry where i actually wake up?
where’s the poetry where i analyze and create new forms/
new words/
new kinds of poetry?
where’s the poetry where i feel
(at least a little)
more healed after writing it?
where’s the poetry where i have a sense of accomplishment
post-writing
rather than a sense of
‘well, i guess that’s ok enough to stick on the poetry blog’?
where’s my big/epic poem?
kipventures 