draped in my mom’s old sweater
struggling with the desire
to, instead of doing things all day,
simply watch others do things all day…
(maybe i just need some food first)
((turns out all i needed was food and a nap))
poem a day
December 8, 2021
and there’s an ache
for slowing down
this time of year
not really a desire
but a halting
a sudden, unexplainable
working through molasses
everything seems to take twice the energy
and i have less than half of my usual
every winter i feel this way
the expectation to go into hibernation
and the feeling/knowing i won’t/can’t
(and yet, there’s a feeling of growing
of expanding
of changing
of being
but
i’ve felt that so much
how long have i spent inside this chrysalis
and how long do i have to decide
to come out
or stay
and if i stay
will i just
always
and forever
be
goo?)
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?)
December 6, 2021
a glitch in the system
(nah, just the page/the app/the writing)
and a glitch in my body
(nah, just my sleep)
and a glitch in the world
(well, that one might be true?)
(ok, not really, but still…)
(ok, there are way too many conspiracy theorists
believing things without evidence
that i cannot abide associating myself with them,
so no, i don’t actually truly think this universe/world/life is a simulation,
but
if that were to be what was revealed
at the end of it all,
it really wouldn’t surprise me)
December 5, 2021
where is my emotional hangover?
the headache and regret i get
after sharing too much
of my own self?
(or is that what
today’s exhaustion
is?)
December 4, 2021
the fourth
the fourth the fourth the fourth
not even the day of her death
but her birth
so why does it hurt
like it’s 2001
and she doesn’t get to turn
40?
why does it hurt
like two years later i dreamt
she re-appeared, so full of life,
explaining it had been a test
to see how strong
i was?
why does it hurt
like i haven’t talked
and talked and talked and talked
in therapy
to partners
to my other parent
and parental figures
and myself
and even at her
about loss
and mourning
about denial
and anger
and bargaining
and depression?
but apparently i’ll never fulfill all the steps
because it hurts
and hurts and hurts and hurts
[and not every fourth is like this
but this one,
it hurts.]
December 3, 2021
with so much
time
to delve into all my
interests
you wouldn’t think i’d just sit around
on
tiktok
(or would you?)
December 2, 2021
beats
plus
birds
wake me up
put me in the mood
to be a person today.
~~~
just because i seem to have
lost my love for morning writing
does not mean
that i have lost all my love
for just writing
(maybe i just need a nap
like yesterday)
~~~
what to do
in a morning
where one feels so off
but so close
to being
On?
~~~
the birds in my music
meld
with the birds outside
and i am reminded
of
Costa Rica
~~~
maybe someday
i’ll listen to music again
maybe someday
i’ll put together playlists upon playlists upon playlists
maybe someday
i’ll know exactly what i want to listen to
maybe someday
maybe someday…
~~~
the cat stares
at nothing
(or is it a ghost?)
alert
eyes huge
but alas
she turns away before
i can write a whole poem
about her
stance
December 1, 2021
go to bed late
in order to relax at least a little
while awake
(after tough, tough decisions are made)
wake up early
in order to get your spouse
out the door
off to work
(in person)
finish some chores
accomplish some goals
take care of the every-day to-do things
and then
NAP
in order to wake up
cuddled with your dog,
splashed with streaks of sunlight,
rainbows dancing all around the room
floating over your skin,
feeling like this is a Day,
not a trial, a burden, a slog
(and then,
write
it
out.)
November 30, 2021
do you ever find
imposter syndrome
just from living
from being
alive
?
[i do]
kipventures 