within my attention span
of music and words
and thoughts and patterns
and tiny details
and big big forests
i either see everything
or a static-y crumble of nothing
there is no in-between
how i think
March 16, 2022
quiet the mind,
shush the brain,
but don’t force the silence
because then that’s all that remains.
i wonder if that’s why others’ poetry
takes longer to write;
because rhythm/rhyme/meter
don’t all happen in one night,
or just one setting,
like sitting in this morning page sun
listening to Japanese hip-hop lofi
and just kinda ~wish~ my scheme into one
sentence
then another
and another
and losing track
and losing steam
and losing the scheme
i [vaguely] thoughtfully put in here
and hearing the rhymes in my head
but only scattered/stilted/disjointed/
disappointed
i continue on
disrupting any complex pattern that might have arisen
so i can continue on this mess of a poem
and pretend that’s just
How I Write
(instead of
how
i think)
March 14, 2022
i don’t have
many memories
from childhood
an iconic moment here
a rush of emotion there
the things that i did all summer
bundled into one specific instance
mostly
{like my thoughts}
i have
vibes
generally
my memories
consist of the
aura
of childhood
of carefree freedom
imagination
the feeling of being
too big for that tiny body
to old for this world
(or maybe too big for this small world
and too old for that young body)
and as my memories age out
from childhood
to tween,
pre-teen,
teenage-hood,
young-adulthood
the memories get darker
angstier
and even the vibes
are less clear
the older i got
the swirlier the emotions became
until something happened
and i feel like i burst forth
from a cauldron of muck
and murky emotions
and became fully me
[when did that happen?
when i hit my stride in my early/mid 20’s?
when i chopped off all my hair
and started caring less
about what i was ‘supposed to’ be?
when i finally birthed myself out of the
strong-arm of academia?
when i met kip?
when i figured out i was non-binary?
when i started feeling more like i did
at 9?
(even though, emotionally, i do still have times/days/stints
of 19-year-old me?)]
memories are fickle
and i feel as though mine might be
fickler than most
but hey,
the vibes of my childhood,
overall,
they were simply
exquisite.
July 30, 2021
when pondering
my overthinking
i can often track my issues back
a few layers
and then i get stuck.
“here’s where i am!”
i yell to the universe,
“i’ve figured myself out now,
can i fix myself next?”
they always say
“knowing is half the battle”
but i’ve known for ages.
but when i start to think critically,
instead of with absurd abundance,
i see some more layers underneath
the ones i’ve already detected,
and these are more fragile,
ticking time bombs,
connected to everything
inside my brain/body/spirit,
and this, i think to myself, may be the actual half
of knowing…
but i’m wary of this knowledge
so i’ll be careful,
tip-toe around it,
but at least i’m peaking in
instead of running away
and staying in the layer
that’s comfortable,
that makes sense,
that i feel there is some possibility for change
…this layer has the possibility for healing.
May 3, 2021
and, of course, if i do this,
if i continue and succeed,
will i always post?
will i have poems in [this] document
that are just for me
and if so
will i ever go back to the strained
stream of consciousness
that morning pages are
‘supposed to be’ in?
my problem comes from the fact that
[as i’m pretty sure i’ve poetry-ed about before]
i think so quickly
that my fingers can only barely keep up with one idea
add to that the whole concept of translating thoughts into words
and there is a lot more time spent figuring out how to say/write things
than actually saying or writing them.
[and, seeing as how my head can *sometimes* think multiple things at once,
i also have often continued on
twelve steps past what i’m trying to take down
so i’m translating
writing
remembering
and thinking
all at once
and it just feels like i can never catch up.]
but perhaps that’s what stream of consciousness should really be about?
taking down the thoughts as they come?
so i [should] write down the thought
and then ignore the twelve thoughts between
and write down the next one?
[but sometimes it’s the steps in-between
that offer the insight into my process
my paths
my connections
and that is the place that i really should concentrate on
for me?]
i don’t know
it all seems too neurotypical
to be helpful
so that’s why poetry is so nice.
it slows down my brain
i process not only sentence by sentence
but sometimes word by word
becoming incredibly intentional
and seeing the thoughts laid out
for all to see and process and understand
so that maybe, just maybe
i could skip from that first thought to the twelfth
but in a way that everyone
[or at least i]
could see the process
sans steps
sans words
sans over-explanation
just thought and thought
bare
nothing more
[nothing less]
offering all that written word will allow
[and sometimes
just
sometimes
offering a little bit more]
kipventures 