morning page poems

December 12, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i wonder
if i whiled away my morning hours
finding the rhymes
and alliterations with time,
if i’d feel more
connected/
more a part of/
more in line
with my silly morning poems —

if i seriously sat still
thinking of the perfect line
the perfect rhyme
the perfect kind of poem to
express
and impress
and decompress
and perhaps then
i’d force my poems on others

[but, as it stands now, i can only make that happen
for like half to two thirds of a full poem,
and then i let go the pretense, and get back to the words
that just make sense
with my morning brain]

December 3, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

sitting down to write
and not feeling the immediate
“i have to eat”
“i have to use the restroom”
“i have to do anything other than
write right now”
and i don’t know what to do with that
how to use it —
all the possibilities are before me
spread out
mapped and tangled and crumpled from
viewing but disuse
and i simply want to write
something
something
something
to make myself feel
like i’ve used my
one wild and wonderful brain

November 30, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

a poem
to center
not distract

a poem
to wake up
not relax

a poem
to get the brain
the body
the mind
the soul
going

a poem
to bring me into
this world
this day
this moment of time
into
maybe even
myself

a poem.

November 25, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

we are good kips
who do our things
that we set out to do
in the mornings

me with my poetry
kip with their programming
puppies with their naps
and cats with their…whatever cats do in the early hours

October 15, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

my morning poetry feels both so unimportant
and even more important
for these four weeks

unimportant
in the grand scheme of things
but important
to keep my word
to myself
and continue this challenge
amongst so many other challenges

because i am nothing if not
a stubborn little goose

October 1, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

turn off the brain
turn on the writing
turn on the morning
the focus and the words
that mean nothing
that mean everything
if i don’t think too hard
if i don’t think hard enough
if i simply stop thinking
maybe these poems
may make sense
eventually]

September 14, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

not feeling the morning page poetry
this morning

but that doesn’t mean
i won’t do it

i mean

i continue to do this
every
single
morning
whether i’m in the mood or not
just to have something to do
just to have a habit to latch onto
just to have some proof
to say
‘i was here, i had thoughts and feelings and insights, too’
and maybe someone will read them soon
and maybe someone will read them in hundreds of years
and maybe
because they’re all digital
they’ll disappear into the ether

but

maybe the ether will get a kick out of all these poems

and they and the void can talk about me
behind my back
when i’m long long long gone

August 1, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i often forget
that the sounds of the birds
can be my morning page music
and the crickets and wind and rain
can replace my podcasts

i no longer use perpetual sound
to block out my own inner voice

[that sounds like some kind of growth]

but i think i have now found myself using any auditory distractions
as literal distractions
from boredom

and i do wish i was more on board
being bored
for creativity’s sake

April 28, 2025

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i don’t actually know what it means
to be
a great writer
a great poet

i’m just sitting here
at my messy dinner table
early in the morning
writing whatever comes to mind
as a way to encourage myself
to deal with the day
that is coming towards me
at breakneck speed

maybe,
when you’re in your ‘fighting a [seemingly] losing war
against fascism with the best tool you have —
kindness’ era
you’ll understand

~~~

i feel like this kind of morning
and this kind of writing
is the reason i started this challenge to begin with

i feel more awake
more aware
more ready to start my day

though i still need to edit and pick and send in the audition
i feel so much more prepared for it
now

~~~

“you look like such a writer!”
of my big sweater
comfy tee
glasses
bun
and coffee in hand

and i do, don’t i?
i do…