June 14, 2022

poetry has been my solace
for so long;
a private morning activity
to get my brain a-moving,
a way to express myself
when the words of prose
just seem to go
on and on and on and on
and still say nothing close to what i wanted,
but if i try to make poetry
an actual ‘hustle’/
a way to make money/
a full part of my identity
(as opposed to this quiet, nearly secret
part of me),
will it lose its magic?

~~~

that book,
that book with all the poetry
and science,
that book
which inspired me
to look at the world around me
and find inspiration
from the birds
and the stars
and the emotions
flowing through us all,
that book
which i finished
but is still on my mind
one zine
and one other book started
later,
that book
called Figuring

i think you should read it, too.

~~~

i’ve started fudging
words
and concepts
and stories
to fit the narrative
i’ve established
here

and i can’t tell if that’s a good thing

or not…

June 10, 2022

i suppose the reason
i’m so damn nervous
about this upcoming performance
is because it’s the only one.

i can overthink
and over prepare
and over-wrack my nerves
because i’m not at the point
yet
where performing is just
my way of life

(it doesn’t help
that this is the first live one
since before the pandemic,
so the pressure
mounts
immeasurably)

June 9, 2022

how is my head
so good
at telling me what’s real,
but also
so sneaky
at telling me
what could be?

when my emotions are out of control,
when my logic has failed me,
my mind is the savior
who reminds me–
‘obsess not on the past
or the future;
life is life,
not a rehearsal,
not a rough draft,
chill here
and you will end up
enjoying it
i swear’

but when my emotions
are at the beginning
of fraught-ness,
my mind is the one
logic-ing me to terror:
‘even if this goes
the best it could possibly go,
there are still so many bad things
that could happen
as a result’
or
‘you’re feeling good–
need i remind you
that there are children starving
not just halfway around the world
but also down the street?
ah, i do need to remind you;
there are animals being uselessly abused,
others being wastefully killed,
the planet is dying,
and so are black people
at the the hands of those hired under the guise
of protection,
but now we know
that they are not legally required to do so.
but what of the people who still can’t see it–
as a white person, is it not your job
to tell those other white folks
how disastrous
and dangerous
their opinions plus their power
is?’

and on and on and on and on
my mind saving me from myself
and then serving me up on a silver platter
for my anxieties to take over
subject matter by subject matter
and the cycle continues
(and i at least know how much
i hate
circles)

June 8, 2022

i’ve been reading a book
about great poet-scientists
of the last few centuries,
and within these last few chapters of the book
the author (and voices from the past)
have assessed
that the greatest authors–
the greatest poets
are ones
who are
open
and honest
with their
emotion

and i think i am not yet there.

my poetry is very head-y.
most poems appear in my head
as something like
‘i think’
not at all
‘i feel’

and maybe that is my access to my emotions
[head to heart to body]
and, although i’d like to get there someday,
i really don’t think i am quite there
yet

even my depression
is very thought-based;
a reaction to an over-thinking mind
that won’t shut up about
all the pains and sufferings in the world
and how i could do something about it
if only i were as powerful as i
thought myself to be

so i’m not yet there
emotionally
in my poetry,
but someday
i may be

and when that happens,
y’all had better look out
(because i’ve had so much practice
with these mind-based poems of mine,
my emotion-based art will be
so great)

…(or, watch, it’ll read
like a three-
year-old
wrote it)
(but that’ll be ok
because it will be mine.
and it will
it will
it will be
honest)

June 6, 2022

once again
i am stuck
pondering
what in the world
i’d thought of
to write
last night
when this morning
my brain
doesn’t seem to light
up
with any words
or concepts
or phrases
just stages
of grief
over lost
concepts

June 5, 2022

we’ve repurposed a large tupperware container
into where we put all the pieces of paper
and threads of former toys
computer has ripped through
with her sharp puppy teeth
and we call it her art collection
and i love it

we also have
two of her puppy teeth,
molars that fell
outside
rather than down the throat,
and we’re thinking of putting them
in her art jar as well
because she did make them
and they are
art

~~~

the puppy has learned
that the top of the soft crate
can help her see
over the room-fence-divider,
and also
can keep her cool
on hot summer days

(now to see how long
the zippered canvas
will hold her weight
as she grows…)

~~~

Louka
was cat-like
in the way that she was
not very dog-like

Computer
is very cat-like
in many mannerisms
and play-approaches
and active qualities

(the passive
and the active
cat-like qualities)

(meanwhile our cat
is more monkey
than any other creature,
so…)