May 17, 2026

sink deep into the couch
close your eyes while you write
and maybe, just maybe,
something beautiful will come to you
something beautiful will osmosis into you
something beautiful will meditate into your mind
from the outside
and make its way through
closed eyes
and open fingertips
to the keys on your keyboard
and, magically, digitally, technologically
appear on your [now no longer blank] computer screen

that’s how poetry works, right?

August 13, 2021

i wish i could find a *thing*
that helped me all the damn time

i have writing
until my mind is too scattered to make any sense of
the thoughts flickering in and out of my brain

i have embroidery and sewing
the fiber arts
until my hand is shaking so much
through an excess of energy
that it seems unintelligent
to have me anywhere near needles

painting could be my
saving grace
calming state
area of expression
but the minute i pick up a brush
i remember how bad i [think i] am at art
and the frustration comes back
ten fold

and i’m still at odds with myself.

[this would be the perfect time
to try to find
a meditation that works for me
but something about my agitation
makes remembering meditation
a near-impossible cogitation

but maybe
today
i will]