this vibe
of music
of cello and piano and drum
of experimenting with the strings
and riffing on the keys
and the steady, floating and capturing beat underneath
is exactly the vibe i need
for this morning
[let’s hear it for modern jazz]
this vibe
of music
of cello and piano and drum
of experimenting with the strings
and riffing on the keys
and the steady, floating and capturing beat underneath
is exactly the vibe i need
for this morning
[let’s hear it for modern jazz]
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]
i feel
as though
i haven’t had a regular morning
in days [true]
weeks [kinda accurate]
months [i guess one could argue this]
years [i think this is where we lose our debate]
[though, i suppose, everything post-2020 hasn’t been
regular life/mornings/any time of day
at all]
if i write of the sunlight
the sounds outside
the playlist and the air outright
is that disingenuous to myself?
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]
finish up these pages
so the bagel can be eaten
so the laundry can be started
so the nap can be taken
so the cat meds can be obtained
so the lyra can be flown on
so the massage can be gotten
and so i can come back home
and be lonely
but not alone
[because these sweet animals
are my greatest buddies
besides my spouse]