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
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
will i,
once i get back,
be back into
some semblance
of a morning
habit
with these words?
that would be nice
that would be nice
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
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]
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
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
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…
not really feeling
the writing right now
but i know i should
and i gotta
and i will and i am and i have been
and i did
just
rocking out
to some ratatat
[instead of writing
these morning pages
like i should be
like i should be]
quick morning pages this morning
perhaps even without posting
until the evening
because we got shit to do
this early morn’
[though i’d love to just be
sewing — apparently that’s my vibe
when the world gets to be
too big and too frightening
just do the physical
helpful labor
you know how to do]