Annee
and Jini
and Lynnette
and Jane
each of you raised me
in your own way
and i still ache for you
every
single
day
grieving
March 25, 2024
sometimes
i hide from my grief
like i can feel it coming towards me
i’m looking over my shoulder
trying to outpace its steps
ducking into door frames in alleyways
hoping it’ll just walk past me
and keep on going
and i can be
free
but my grief is a part of me
it is inside me
it is made up of me
i can’t escape myself
[no matter how hard i try]
so why
can’t i let grief
just
ride?
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?
April 25, 2022
dreams
of memories
of happy times
(and sad)
of the task still yet to be fulfilled
(the telling of all the neighbors
that Louka
is gone)
but yes, this puppy makes things
ever so slightly easier
and this morning i told her
“you know, Louka was surrounded by so much love
and you are too, now, in this house
yes, there is a ton of sadness still inside
but there is
so
much
love
for you,
Computer”
~~~
i’m more awake
than i have been
in days
(perhaps weeks)
and yet
i know not
at all
what i’d like to write
(or what’s in my brain
that needs to get out)
this afternoon will be
one week
without Louka,
our love,
but 48 hours with Computer,
a new source
for all the love
that had nowhere to go,
and i’ve been writing so much
about all these emotions
but i’m sure i have others;
anxiety is still there
as is depression
as is freedom when flying for circus
as is annoyance when walking through tourist areas of nyc
(how do non-new yorkers walk so damn slow
and
take up the entirety of the sidewalk???)
and perhaps i can add accomplishment
to my listing of emotions
if i actually write some emails
and catch up with some professionals today
so i can say
i’ve kept up with my career
though i’ve been in mourning
and training,
in saying goodnight
and nice to meet you,
and getting to know this new creature
and grieving and grieving and grieving…
i know i needed this past week
to wallow
to be swallowed
by all the emotions that swelled up inside
by giving my whole heart to a four-legged creature
for the last nearly 8 years of my life,
to feel the sadness as it needed to be felt
(instead of ignoring/working through/putting off the whole process
like i’ve always done
that’s always felt so unhealthy)
(did Louka teach us more than just how to be good dog parents?
did she also teach us how to fully deal with loss?)
and yes, one week is not enough,
Louka was such a good dog,
such an important dog,
such a special, unique, kind, gentle, dog,
such my dog
that i’m sure i’ll feel her memories
presence
and a sadness at her physically not being close
for the rest of my life,
but letting it consume me
in a way that felt like loss,
not like regret,
was a lesson i’ll keep with me
forever.
what a good dog.
~~~
i’ve simply been writing things
as they come
as they come up
as i’m overtaken
and i haven’t done much editing
or revising
before placing my thought-stream
onto the poetry-blog
and i hope this is what i need right now
(it sure seems like it is,
otherwise
why would i be doing it?)
April 24, 2022
we met Louka at a shelter,
and took her home from a petsmart
a few days later,
signing the paperwork,
telling that scared dog that
with us
would be her forever home
we met a puppy yesterday
at a petsmart,
and took her home the same day,
and i brought Louka with me in my heart,
and the puppy rolled around on the ground
the first chance she got
just like Louka loved doing,
and the puppy showed Louka in her tail.
and, blocking out my brain
and only speaking with my heart and gut
i said,
“i love this dog”
so, Computer, with us
is your forever home,
and Louka will always be
watching over and protecting all of us.
~~~
royalty free music
dings and dongs in predictable songs
the cadences rise and fall in ways that satisfy
(but don’t challenge)
the ear
perfect for commercials or elevators or actors’ filmic reels
royalty free
music
~~~
i’ve been
feeling
emoting
crying
weeping
remembering
telling
typing
showing
loving
this past week
and i know this puppy will never replace Louka
(i’d never, ever want that in a million years)
but she is making the grieving process
just a little bit easier.
so, time,
and Computer,
help me remember Louka with fondness and love
rather than with pain and love
April 23, 2022
breathe through
the pain
and the guilt
and the hard moments of missing
and soak in
the memories
and the change in yourself
you’ve seen
over the last 7.75 years
she taught you
well
how to be a good dog parent
and you taught her
well
how to see she was already
such a good dog
~~~
Kip writing down
all the memories
of Louka
is such a sweet thing
and has helped them
i don’t think i’m in a place
just yet
to write my memories
without weeping
(and that’s ok;
Kip’s words have such a beautiful balance
of intrigue
and comedy,
even in the saddest of parts
there is still so much humor there,
as gentle as the dog was)
so Kip can [and should] have their moments
with memories
and prose
and i can talk through poems
and photos
piecing together my remembrances
pixel by pixel
and ponderment by ponderment
and we are each grieving
and remembering
in our own ways
and loving
in that way
that is so very Kip;
wholeheartedly
(just like i wanted)
~~~
oh boy
the tears
they seep out
of my sockets
with only a half second’s warning
and they feel
today
like good tears.
April 21, 2022
let’s see
if i can get a little bit of writing done
a little bit of wandering through my brain
a little bit of active meditation
before i start my day
my day, which is decidedly different
lonelier
lost
without her
(her being my dog
and i know it sounds over exaggerated
but damn,
those creatures have a way
of infecting every part of your life;
the companionship
throughout the day,
the routine that makes time
into a full day…
and now we are left
damn near floundering
looking
for something else to fill thee time
the void in our hearts where love needs to go
(our cat can only take so much affection, so…)
even going outside
feels cheapened
without her,
even naps
to pass this hard time
unconsciously
i’m unsure if i can do
because guess who
was the being i used to
nap with
you know who)
so a day
is just a day
not necessarily an adventure
not necessarily a struggle
it can just be a day
(maybe eve with some little adventures and struggles inside it)
and i’m unsure where i’m going
with this poem
and i’m unsure where i’m going
with my day
and i’m unsure where i’m going
with my life
but at least i have my kip and my cat
to hold and grieve
and to distract and entertain
and maybe
in a few days
or weeks
or months
there will be a new dog in the house
who needs our love
as much as we need them to receive ours
and Louka will be proud
of how well she trained us
to be such good dog parents
(and i hope
all my hope
that everything i’ve been saying
and assuming
and observing
was true:
that she did have a full dog life
in the nearly eight years she spent with us,
and that our love did block out
the struggle that was
her first six years of life,
and that she did enjoy this house
more than any other inside she was ever in,
and that when she dreamed, it was of running around our big Madison yard,
and that she wasn’t in too much pain
up until those last few days,
and that she was ready to go
when we[had to make]made that decision for her,
(she did
she really did
look like
she was looking for a place
like her soul was looking to escape
but her body was still holding on),
and i hope she knew
that when we held her
it was for love
and that she loved it
even though she sighed at us so much,
and there’s so many other things i wish
but if i think too much
the tears will come
and i won’t be able to do
much else today
except cry
(which i’ve already done
for days)
)
and wow
this poem started out
vaguely trying to
not
be about Louka
but that’s just how much
she’s infected our lives
and how much it feels wrong
to go from bed to wardrobe
without saying “excuse me, Louka,”
and to go from upstairs to downstairs
without some cajoling,
and to go from waking up
to morning pages and coffee
without a morning walk in-between,
and to go throughout a day
without worrying
when
walks are needed
and timing things out
and coming home to make sure
and checking in on the little donut dog on the couch
and i’m doing it again
falling into the trap
of writing lists
instead of dealing with emotions
and i hope Dog Heaven is real
and that we get to join her someday
and that she’s there now
learning
(from other dogs)
exactly how to play
(or not, whatever Louka wants)
whatever Louka wants
June 23, 2021
another adventure
another setting out
this time for something
not quite as happy
but hopefully fulfilling
and connecting
and kind.
~~~
there are studies
that show
the earlier you deal with death
the better
(or so much worse)
you are at handling any death
as an adult.
i solidly fall into the second category,
my brain short circuiting whenever death is present
whenever someone is grieving
my go-to comfort is
to leave them alone.
but when you’re not a pre-teen
figuring out exactly what you need,
most folks would opt for connection
for a few words of comfort
not alone time.
so
after months of watching back episodes of
“Ask a Mortician”
and
reading her books
and
listening to her podcast
i’ve figured out a better way of dealing with death:
i ask the grieving person
what their favorite memory is of their loved one.
i specify they don’t have to share with me,
(but i’d be happy to hear if they choose),
but to simply think of their favorite memory.
i’ve only had two opportunities to use it so far,
but both felt connective,
kind,
and i felt useful
(all i really want to feel anyway)
so,
anyone grieving,
(or having gone through grief),
what’s your favorite memory of that person?
~~~
our dog
staring at her food
for minutes upon minutes
as if she’s having an existential crisis
(what a way for the universe to show us she belongs with us)
kipventures 