morning poetry

February 7, 2024

/ HJ / Leave a comment

is my problem
not
that i’m main-character-syndrome-ing
on my own,
but looking in from the outside
as if others see me
as the main character
and expect my own struggles
to come and go
and be completed
and have a story arc
isolated to a beginning middle and an end
all nicely tied up
when everything is said and done
and i can’t understand how
i’m still living when i’ve already tried
thousands of lives
on stage and off
and how is there still more of me to see?
haven’t i already lived my story?

[there’s more
there’s more
there’s more]

January 24, 2024

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the one
and only
good thing
about not having kip with me
for morning poetry
time
is that their chair across from mine
can be my footstool
and i can lengthen my legs up
and relax
and stretch out
and
sit how i’d like to sit
still arms on the table
still laptop directly in front of me
but with legs propped how they’d like to be

but

that is literally the only good thing
for when they need to sleep in
for when they need to be out and working
for when they’re in a different city
or even just upstairs from me
otherwise
i miss
everything

January 14, 2024

/ HJ / Leave a comment

the soundtrack of our morning
includes:
skipped songs on a playlist
whenever they have words to them,
the soft stomps of a puppy
forcing me to play with her
and whatever toy she brings me,
the tippity taps of fingers on keys
from my poetry
and kip’s programming,
and the cat
somewhere
somewhere
in this building.

January 7, 2024

/ HJ / Leave a comment

math jazz
leaves your mind
expecting
exactly
what it
isn’t

~~~

i’ve written so much
of
nothing this morning
and
i can’t seem to stop
nor
do i feel satisfied with anything i’ve done
so
i guess i’ll keep writing and writing and writing
until
i feel some sort of closer closure, somewhere.

~~~

do i not want to review my older works because i think they’ll be worse,
or do i not want to delve deep because i know myself and my tendency
to get all wrapped up, bundled in the blanket of the past, wondering
what if what if what if, until i find myself unable to experience the
presence of the
present
moment
?

December 31, 2023

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i am trying to write a poem
to collect and examine
what 2023 meant to me

but we still have one more day,
and so much can happen
in just a few hours

so i guess i’ll write a little now,
and a little tomorrow,
and asses throughout these next 48 hours
[minus 9:19]
and see where it gets me
during tomorrow’s
twenty-four

and for now —

breakfast shall be at hand, i believe.

November 19, 2023

/ HJ / Leave a comment

on our morning walk
the puppy and i saw
a blue jay happily cleaning out the gutters
of a house [we assume] ze does not own—
flinging dead leaves and other debris
blocking the flow
to the ground
flipping zir little head as ze does it
joyfully
[based on what little we know of bird moods]

and i have to know:
was ze contracted to do this work?
is ze fed by the residents and wanted to be kind and give back a bit?
or was ze looking for some food/worms/treasure deep in the muck?
[and if so, did ze end up finding it before ze flew off?]

May 23, 2023

/ HJ / Leave a comment

these mornings
these poems
they all slip together
to become something akin to
a giant gentle monster
overwhelming
overshadowing
but still cuddly as anything
(cuddly as me)
and i don’t know if this beast is one
i could ever tame
or if it needs to be free
wild
as uncontrollable
and uncontrolled
as i so desperately want to be