July 7, 2021

shorter time
to write my
morning poetry
today,

and the rest
of the day
is filled with
zoom zoom zoom
(but in-person,
not via Zoom)

pondering
jobs
and
houses
and
subways
and
STEM

and i still have to
write
the writing
that i’m both
apprehensive
of
and
excited
about.

(so, i guess, let’s do this)

July 2, 2021

no thank you, words,
i would not like to listen to you
as i try to get in touch with the
words in my own brain
as the caffeine filters in
ever so slowly
and i [hopefully] find a way to wake up
and put some more words here
and a few more words there
and welcome a few more words in
and get a few more words out…

so
no thank you, words,
words in music,
you are not welcome quite yet
this morning,
please wait your turn.

June 30, 2021

change
is a-comin’
and it’s ok to be scared
and it’s ok if it’s not right away
and it’s ok if it’s not exactly what/how we think
but change is coming
and coming
and coming
and maybe
i’ll change
too.

~~~

writing poetry
quick lines,
every now and then
an almost rhyme,
and i wonder if the greats
ever wrate
[wrote]
this way;
half asleep
as a way to wake-up
coffee in hand
cat in lap
pondering the possibilities
of whole pieces
(but only thinking
one or two words
at a time)

~~~

quick!
major inspiration
flow through me now!
poetry
prose
fiction
creative-non
monologues
whole scripts
anything
something
please, universe, please?

June 29, 2021

angst
existential and otherwise
feeds into my mind
my brain
my psyche
my being
and though i can take a step to the side
watch as my emotions fill up
saturate
overflow
danger levels
tell myself
to calm down
i’m still sidelined
in my own
mind
the angst
getting the better of me
(getting the worst of me)
(getting the all of me,
all of all of all of me)

and yet
what shows
is just a little bit of an
‘off’
ness
to me

(the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

(didn’t know i was feeling that way this morning
a surprise to everyone around me
including and especially me

again

the wonders of dissociation)

~~~

is there any happiness in my brain today?
or is this maybe the point of morning pages/
morning poetry
to get all this angst out before it hits other people;
if i leave the angst on the page
(on the screen)
(outside of me)
maybe i’ll be better around others
throughout the day?

May 18, 2021

i guess i could…
use my morning pages time
to read and edit and rewrite and post
all the poems that have come thus far ?

maybe?

~~~

quietly track the purring
in rhythm with the caffeine beats
thumping [softly] out of these
shitty laptop speakers

the aesthetics you always thought you’d have
you surpassed with unexpected privilege
leaving you with the existential question

why?

~~~

and unrelatedly
why
does organizing
make me feel so much better?
.
. .
. . .
(i know why;
it’s because my brain is the opposite of organized.)

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]

April 21, 2021

i don’t know how
people
do it.
write poetry about the big things
falling in love
feeling betrayed
birth
rape
death

i’ve tried and i always feel
i’m missing a piece of the puzzle
like my particular words
cheapen
my majestic moments.

but i’m more than happy
to write odes
to sour patch kids
express a love for
one particular flower
paint a poetic portrait
over the act of writing poetry
i thrive on the little things

(but do people actually want to read poems
about how my morning was?)