poem a day

March 16, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

quiet the mind,
shush the brain,
but don’t force the silence
because then that’s all that remains.

i wonder if that’s why others’ poetry
takes longer to write;
because rhythm/rhyme/meter
don’t all happen in one night,

or just one setting,
like sitting in this morning page sun
listening to Japanese hip-hop lofi
and just kinda ~wish~ my scheme into one

sentence
then another
and another
and losing track
and losing steam
and losing the scheme
i [vaguely] thoughtfully put in here
and hearing the rhymes in my head
but only scattered/stilted/disjointed/
disappointed
i continue on
disrupting any complex pattern that might have arisen
so i can continue on this mess of a poem
and pretend that’s just
How I Write

(instead of
how
i think)

March 15, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

writing
a thing
but not the way i want to be
writing it
not in the way i’ve imagined
saying it
not in the context and meter and rhythm i’ve
dreamt it

and i’m hesitating words in a way i
never do

is this all some sort of quandary
of feeling ‘off’
simply because my coffee is hot
[[not
iced]]?

March 14, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

i don’t have
many memories
from childhood

an iconic moment here

a rush of emotion there

the things that i did all summer
bundled into one specific instance

mostly
{like my thoughts}
i have
vibes

generally
my memories
consist of the
aura
of childhood
of carefree freedom
imagination
the feeling of being
too big for that tiny body
to old for this world
(or maybe too big for this small world
and too old for that young body)

and as my memories age out
from childhood
to tween,
pre-teen,
teenage-hood,
young-adulthood
the memories get darker
angstier
and even the vibes
are less clear

the older i got
the swirlier the emotions became

until something happened
and i feel like i burst forth
from a cauldron of muck
and murky emotions
and became fully me

[when did that happen?
when i hit my stride in my early/mid 20’s?
when i chopped off all my hair
and started caring less
about what i was ‘supposed to’ be?
when i finally birthed myself out of the
strong-arm of academia?
when i met kip?
when i figured out i was non-binary?
when i started feeling more like i did
at 9?
(even though, emotionally, i do still have times/days/stints
of 19-year-old me?)]

memories are fickle
and i feel as though mine might be
fickler than most

but hey,
the vibes of my childhood,
overall,
they were simply
exquisite.

March 13, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

internally
raw
worn
torn
injured
maybe bleeding

(maybe healing?)

~~~

i look at the the date
“happy manniversary!” i tell my kip
“i didn’t do anything…” they say, as their face falls
from their initial surprise-joy
“it’s ok” i say, hoping to turn the mood
from sadness
to a dark humor
that will also then
bring us down
again
to all that’s been:
“two years ago today
we were
~supposed~ to be seeing
Hadestown.”
we laugh
and sigh
and continue on inside
as the pandemic still goes on
(as much as folks pretend it isn’t
with lax guidelines
and ignoring science
and pleas from healthcare workers
falling
not on deaf ears
but on those that simply
wish not to hear)
outside.

~~~

my poetry this morning
seems to be coming from a different place
a place of allowing
the cacophony
and angst
to broil itself down
to the basics
of words
and feelings
and leaving
them all
on the page[screen]
[[[for once]]]

March 12, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

a whole host of
feelings
dreary
hungry
tired
that seem to
disconnect
me from feeling
any other things
[inspired
full-spirited
interest]

~~~

this winter seems to go on forever
except
unlike the Wisconsin winters
i’d been used to,
this one has a very
Cleveland flare:
stopping for a day or two,
letting the flowers in the yard
start to peak from the ground,
green stems pointing towards the sky,
before dumping another
few inches
or damn near
a whole foot
of freezing rain/hail/sleet/
pure snow
on us once more
(only to have all that
melt
in a matter of days,
and have the buds
begin
to emulate
full flowers;
colors in the back
side
front yards
before it all turns to white again
just for the green to stick out
over top)

the fight
over what season
March
should be.

~~~

what to write about
in mornings when i feel
the least like myself;
not even more sad
than my usual rainbow demeanor,
just too tired
to be
me
?

March 11, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

today
is day
333
of my streak
and three is my favorite [base] number
of which i base all my other favorite numbers off
whether they include a three
[as in 13, my ‘official’ favorite number]
or are divisible by it
[as in 9 and 27, which i also especially love
because
their division includes other threes]
i adore any and all ‘threed’ numbers,
and 333 is three threes-
how energizing
how beautiful
how apt…

(…so why can’t i use that energy
to bolster my creativity
or make me feel
like i’m not
miserable
this morning?)

March 10, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

emotions
swirling
around
scattered and unfounded
(at least half of them)

~~~

do i want to
do work
then
be creative,
or can i
somehow
find the creativity
inside the work?

~~~

all the possibilities
and none of the
decision-making confidence.

~~~

all?
or none?
or some?
now?
or later?
or combine?
or alone?
or is it even worth it?

~~~

i wish i remembered what it was like
to find my path of thought
through
the poetry at my fingertips
instead of
halting
phrases
catching
words
tiny poems
barely scratching the surface
of all that’s underneath
this rainbow hair…

~~~

if i trace the keyboard
gently
will it make the words come easier?
will the emotions be quantifiable
and able to be categorized
and boxed up
and shipped out
to future me
to deal with
in a different [head]space?

March 9, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

if i’ve ever said
‘i love you’
i still do.

if i’ve ever told you
we should meet up for coffee
and chat the day away,
i’ve actually meant it.

if you’ve ever meant a great deal to me
you still do.

time is a mortal construction
and isn’t linear.

i don’t have
‘friendship degradation mechanics’
and if we’ve had a falling out
i’ve told you so.

if we’ve simply drifted
apart
from one another
(over time or space or experiences)
just know
i think of you often
and if you were to reach out
to me
for that coffee/chat/catchup
i’d be on top of that opportunity
in an instant

but

i don’t know how other people work,
so i don’t say ‘hey’ out of the blue
when i really mean
‘you’ve been on my mind
my whole life
and i still think of you
as you were
at 11 or 16 or 22,
but i know people grow
and i’d love to see
how you’ve grown
because you are important to me
and i love hearing you tell stories,
and debating opinions on tv shows,
and getting to see inside your soul’
because that’s
~~too much~~
for some people
(and i don’t know if that’s the direction you’ve grown
so
i play it safe

and i say

nothing.)

March 8, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

falling asleep just
thinking
about the words i’m about to write
and the things necessary to be done today
and the accomplishments i need to do before this week ends

there’s a van down the street
just a few doors down
rumbling
and popping
and waking itself up for the day

if this van with
[clearly]
many things in need of fine tuning inside it
can take its time
getting itself ready
for its tasks for the day
then i certainly can wake myself up
through poetry
[and coffee]

~~~

but
i’m not awake
yet

~~~

the fake fireplace glows
and blows
forced heated air
at us
while the tiny humidifier
blows vapored water
up
into the air
into the plant beside it
reflecting in the mirror behind it
and we drink our coffee
as the dog tries so hard to lick her legs
on the couch
(that has become 100% hers)
and the cat is…

…somewhere

(a standard morning at the kips’)

March 7, 2022

/ HJ / Leave a comment

it feels
like spring
today

wild flowers
blossoming into
purple patches
on our lawn

it feels
like spring
today

no coat
necessary
for dog-
walking

it feels
like spring
today

yesterday’s rain
melds in
my nose
with other
nyc smells
to create
something
new

it feels
like spring
today

the spouse
planning a
garden
on each
terrace
in the
back

it feels
like spring
today

we all
sat/stood
in the
sunlight
absorbing it
knowing

that although

it feels
like spring
today

tomorrow
could be
a whole
different
story.