let’s write first
before we get caught up
in the weeds of the day
let’s write first
before we start recording
all the facts and figures
let’s write first
before we forget what creativity
feels like in the hustle and bustle
let’s write first
before it’s already nighttime
and the sads take over
let’s write first
before other needs are met
because creation
itself
is a need
so let’s create
by writing
first
morning page poetry
September 23, 2026
morning page poems are such a wild ride
because i sit down at a screen and start to write
and have zero words
[well, technically three, as i date every entry]
and i begin to write
and no matter how many words i put into the document
the word counter never seems to go beyond 150
and with a 300 word goal, this is agonizing
so i sludge and trudge through this sand dune of letters
never seeming to become full words that count
and i write and write and write and write
and eventually i forget to check the word count —
i get lost in a poem or a memory or a simple phrase
and before i know it, i’ve gotten multiple poems down
and i glance at the word count, and it’s approaching 300
not quite there yet, but i get a sense of sadness, that soon i will achieve the 300 word mark
and that means i no longer need to be writing
[not that i’d stop myself from continuing on, it’s just a weird feeling of disappointment, that i won’t actually
need to be writing anymore in a moment]
and then
i get lost again
in a poem/word/thought/phrase/memory/something
and i glance down at the word count
and i’ve gone well beyond 300 words
[just now i hit 500, in case you’re wondering]
and i wonder if i’m feeling like my morning pages are done
i wonder if i’ve got anything that i’m willing to post to share
into the ether/the void/the possibility of it being read
though so few people actually do look to read
every
single
day
but i do
do this
every
single
day
and tomorrow morning the journey will probably be the same
but the words/phrases/poems/thoughts/discoveries
will not be
and i think that’s neat.
September 8, 2026
do i get more out of my morning poetry
when it is less likely to be a poem
i’m willing to share with any sort of audience
[even that of the opinionless void]?
almost
certainly
yes
September 6, 2026
300 words
is my writing goal
every morning
and i usually hit it
[no, not always, but usually]
and i usually feel settled
by that time
enough words to get the morning sleepies out
enough words to find a thing i’m fine with posting
enough words to feel warmed up
emotionally/intellectually/creatively
for the day
but these past few days
300 does not feel like enough
and there isn’t anything that says
300 is a limitation
it is literally a minimum
[and even then, these are all rules i set for myself
so if i can only do about three words
that turn into a short poem day,
that’s fine for me,
that’s fine
that’s fine]
but i find it incredibly interesting
that a few weeks ago
i ran into multiple days
i couldn’t even find the time to write
anything
and now, two-ish weeks later
i’m itching
for more
and more
and more writing time
and making it happen
[am i, after five and a half years of this silly, self-imposed writing challenge
becoming something like
a “real”
writer?]
July 22, 2026
i’m writing so many words today
figuring things out in my brain i
didn’t know i needed figuring out
through poetry
and allegory
and just straight up facts
the coffee has hit the tastebuds
but i’ve written so fast
i think it hasn’t yet hit the bloodstream
or brain
quite yet
i didn’t know i didn’t know i didn’t know
i needed to process these particular things
but that’s why morning page poetry is so useful:
sometimes you sit down to write
and you just write about how much you’re
not writing
and sometimes you sit down to write
and discover secrets that you had hidden
from even
yourself
now to process the processing…
July 6, 2026
it’s seven o’clock
and i’m writing
and the wind is blowing
and my wrist has not yet started hurting [as much as it was yesterday]
and the birds are screaming
and the dog is observing
and the cat is nowhere to be seen
the tea is hot
the coffee is ice cold
and the water is the temperature of our old house’s old pipes
[so, in the summer, not quite as cool as we’d like]
[and in the winter far too cold]
but it’s a summer day
a summer morning
and the window is open
and the rain will be falling all day today
and i hope it feels like the planet is healing
so we, as a species, can maybe follow suit.
June 27, 2026
writing before 7
writing before i’m fully awake
writing before breakfast
before coffee fully takes effect
before i know what my mind is doing this day
but i also know
later today
i’ll have no desire to write
or
the desire will be there
but the motivation
the actually action
will cease
so morning writing it is
with its
imperfections
and sleepy word choices
and distractability
at least i’m sitting here
writing
that’s more than i can say for
the rest of my day
May 7, 2026
at least we have a bit of
morning pages time this morning
before the utter chaos and mild terror
of in-laws
and in-law-puppies
come barreling down the stairs
May 6, 2026
as i write
and write and write
throughout my life
i wonder what it’s all about
who it’s all for
if it’s all for me, that seems
statistically
a little daft
for there are billions of
people on this planet of ours
and even more that have come before
and will join us
after we are all
gone
so to write for only one life
that feels
foolish
but again, the human condition is such that
writing truly and honestly
for yourself
often makes happenstance happen
and many many others
see themselves in your
words
so to write for others
in a way that makes others feel seen
you need not think of the others
[you must not think of the others]
else the writing comes off as
cliche
or trying to hard
or pandering to an audience
i can’t stop myself from thinking of an audience
even as i write these morning poems
daily
daily
daily
that i doubt even i could ever get through
on a re-read
i can’t help but wonder
if someone will love reading my words
with as much care and mild obsession
as i took writing them
[or is that not true — i’m not really careful
or obsessing
as i write these
every
single
morning — i’m flinging them
stanza by stanza
out into the ether
and hoping they catch the eye
of someone
who needs them]
April 19, 2026
one more
just for funzies
just for writing
just for clearing out the
cobwebs in my brain
one more
just for doing something
just for getting writing out
just for waking up my whole self
before it slowly drifts away
one more
just for excuses
just for habit-forming
just for habit-breaking and re-making
one more
just for me
just for a reader i’ll never see
just for the universe to know
i wrote
one
more
poem
