gibberish poems
can become
gibberish songs
which may be
exactly what i need to do
in order to stop me
from overanalyzing
and overjudging
and overscrutinizing
my own creativity
my own poetry
August 7, 2024
poems
looking back on other poems
are apparently what my poems
had in store for me today
October 27, 2022
i secretly love
going back
and reading old poems
(even old poem-to-do-lists)
and seeing
who
and how
i was
back[not really that far]then
August 14, 2022
i did it
i performed my own poetry
i read it out loud
for people
and the people
felt
emotions
is this another aspect
of poetry as the opposing side
to prose’s analytic/logic basis?
is poetry’s purpose both
to come from a place of true emotionality
but also
to affect the reader/listener
empathetically?
and how do i come at this craft
from such a brainy/overthinking origin
just to affect those i’m reading to
so profoundly in the feels?
August 13, 2022
to write
or not to write
on this day
of performing
my own poetry
live
for the very first time
that sure is the question
~~~
can coffee
really do for my creativity
what it already does for my
comfort
and
awake-ness
and routine-building?
~~~
Oven Puppy
appears in reflections
all over our walk
and the puppy
(our puppy, Computer the Puppy)
wants to know:
is Oven Puppy nice?
how did Oven Puppy even get into our oven?
why does Oven Puppy always mimic Computer’s movements/
barks/
danger tail-poof?
how did Oven Puppy get inside the college windows at night?
and will Oven Puppy ever come out to play?
——————————————————————
The show is today, virtual, 2pm Eastern, and free
for tickets: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/321018253237
December 7, 2021
there’s an ache
in old poems
that i think i’ve lost…
the words falling out of my brain
hold in them a pain
of trying to find some sort of connective
tissue
through
to others in this stupid experiment we call
human
existence
and what happens when everything becomes
happenstance
what becomes of the worlds words once i built
brick by brick
letter by letter
when the better /half/ of me
plays into capitalism
to make our lives a bit
stabler
i read old
lines
older
stanzas
and a common thread appears
a subtle but strong undercurrent
to understand and be understood
(and might i still have that
now?)
June 11, 2021
sometimes you have to go back
and re-re-read your older poetry
(yes, the poetry you so recently re-read
in order to post it to the blog)
because you had such a concept[control]
of the language
the alliterations acting as appetizers
on an empty stomach/tongue,
and as you read
(and think “why the fuck can’t i find that
language
this time ‘round?”)
maybe tell yourself
maybe remind yourself
you probably thought that same thing back in early May
late April
and perhaps,
in a month or two or three
(or even a year or two or three)
you’ll look back on this
early
mid
June
and think to yourself
“my goodness,
i was so good at poetry
back then.”
June 6, 2021
i’ve been posting
diligently
for the last few weeks,
re-reading poems
from the start of this
poem-a-day-venture,
editing where they need it,
mostly surprising myself in my own confidence
and love
of my own words.
and while i haven’t told a lot of people
about this undertaking
quite yet
i’ve told a few
and that’s scary
but at least a little bit
invigorating.
and i’m trying not to write
for the purpose of being read
i’m trying to simply write
for writing’s sake.
but the purpose of this poem
this post
today’s post
is that, as of this day,
the 6th of June,
i’ve finished my backlog of posts
and am actually,
truly
posting on today.
(and i know me,
i know myself,
i know i’ll probably have a few days where i’m not feeling up to posting right away
and i’ll collect a bit of a backlog again,
but at least it won’t be
damn near two month’s worth of work
again)
and yet,
(and yet)
not having that big of a backlog
means i won’t feel this kind of
accomplishment
about this project
again…
July 30, 2020
reading through old poems
and realizing
they’re not as bad as you thought
kipventures 