May 19, 2021

my brain
(and bod)
are doing better than they were
the shaking and jittering
the depression and hopelessness
the overly-energized listlessness
are all but gone

but echos remain
and remind me of
whatever the fuck that was
that drove me damn near insane
(or, at least, reminded me of that time
my sanity was not quite a certainty)
and certainly
i’m still careful
traversing on the tiniest of eggshells,
wishing that the weight of what happened last week
would give me fodder for effortless poems
beautiful language
pleasing sounds in my mouth and ears and eyes
(and a sudden reminder of church lock-ins long since past
passes my eyes in a blink
and after being gone
in Pittsburgh, i think, was that particular church,
in less than a second
i’m back)
the creativity i used to have
isn’t gone
it’s just a little bit
changed.

(i mean,
yeah i wrote five million slam-poem-beginnings in high school,
but when did i write a whole ass novel?
that’s right, this year, damnit!)

May 18, 2021

i guess i could…
use my morning pages time
to read and edit and rewrite and post
all the poems that have come thus far ?

maybe?

~~~

quietly track the purring
in rhythm with the caffeine beats
thumping [softly] out of these
shitty laptop speakers

the aesthetics you always thought you’d have
you surpassed with unexpected privilege
leaving you with the existential question

why?

~~~

and unrelatedly
why
does organizing
make me feel so much better?
.
. .
. . .
(i know why;
it’s because my brain is the opposite of organized.)

May 17, 2021

everything
is getting grey
while the sun shines brighter and brighter
and i want to be able to see the sun
and the sky
and the stars
but nothing seems recognizable anymore

(and staring at the sun is real bad for your eyes)

~~~

humor
within
tragedy

is it a sign of good writing
or just deeper seeded depression

~~~

smaller poems
capturing
greater feelings

[isn’t/wasn’t that the aim all along?]

May 16, 2021

i want to do
something
with all these poems
posting them seems the best option
but also
i’m scared.
i’m scared of people seeing them
i’m scared of no one seeing them
i’m scared i’ll succeed
i’m scared i’ll fail
i’m scared of so many things
(when did i get so scared?)

~~~

creativity
breeds
creativity

depression
breeds
depression

just keep that in mind.

~~~

oh
when did i start writing
for me?

May 15, 2021

my brain is falling asleep in a way
that it wasn’t last night.
the tossing and turning and turning and tossing
like being rocked by a stormy sea
did nothing to lull me (in)to unconsciousness
the wind and stress i felt from my kip beside me
did not diminish my sleepiness
but it did make the actual
falling,
sleep catching,
(falling into sleep’s waiting arms)
not truly take.

but now my mind feels like it could be lulled
(fairly easily, in fact)
into unconsciousness
and i wonder;
is it worth it?

May 14, 2021

Contemplations of Memories of Musical Theatre College
(In Canada)
those memories i don’t quite carry…
i have the stories
(the ones that i memorized like monologues,
like i do all my important memories,
because i know otherwise
they’ll float away
into the ether
of my mind)
but i don’t have any memories
of egregious things said to me
or a teacher crossing a line in front of me
(though i heard some second hand,
and those do stick in my mind,
as general feelings about particular instructors
moreso than the words/facts themselves)

for someone who rarely understands what their feelings are at any given moment,
i pretty much only remember emotions from any point in my life.
(and unfortunately
the memories that stick out to me
are all pretty much ones that fall under the umbrella of
despair.)

i had fun
at Musical Theatre College
(in Canada)
and yes, there were some crazy things we did
(but i also knew of other colleges that did more [or slightly less] heinous things
said more troublesome things
made more problematic decisions)
but i’d already been in this industry,
and in classes associated with this industry
for over a decade at that point,
so i suppose i had already taken for granted that
this was how we were supposed to find our
‘voices’
as artists.

which is absolutely not to say that what was done is what should be allowed
or is the ‘right way’ to train young, impressionable artists,
i simply stuck my bony chin out
and accepted it as it was(is)
and perhaps that makes me complicit
and perhaps that makes me traumatized
but there HAS to be a better way.

…right?

May 13, 2021

An Ode to Pet Names

‘Baby’ was never a name i thought was appropriate for romantic interactions
but somehow i ended up with that with you
which became ‘Puppy’
(because we read American Gods at the same time together)
and that turned to ‘Pupup’, and ‘Pupupupupup’
(which might have been part of what spawned the nickname of that show we worked on)
but slowly the one syllable nickname/pet name stuck
and we started calling each other ‘Kip’
chirruping across bookstores
to find each other
and when we were silly
that became ‘Kyaaaahhhhp’
others became ‘Kips’ too
variations on a theme
(most spoonerisms)
and we are still ‘Kip’ to each other
to this day.

May 12, 2021

combing
through etsy
to find
a piece
of indigenous art
of wood
for the five year anniversary
that suits
us both

~~~

wow
yesterday i was so inspired
to write and contemplate
the original monologue
and today
i am not feeling it
at
all.

(but maybe i should just try anyway)

~~~

(and why do i feel the need to decompress after acting class
whether i do well or not
whether i achieve any sort of catharsis?)
(i still feel a bit like an observer
an outsider…
when will that end and i can feel truly
part
of something?)

May 11, 2021

i like watching kip draw,
the decisions made
so quickly,
the lines deft and
decisions clear.
i often wish i could draw,
but when i practice
i get so frustrated;
every image i see in my head
i don’t have the muscle control to get
onto the page
or screen
or whatever.
while i draw, i feel like that portrait
of Jesus
that was “cleaned”
[botched]
and i’m just trying to do my best
to put some eyes
a nose
and maybe a mouth
back on myself
but i know with my skills
they’ll be
so sad
so i just do it lightly
and hope no one else notices
my black hole of a face
with child-like imprinting
there where real features used to be.

May 10, 2021

a different kind of sleepy this morning
a cocoon of warmth
of ‘i actually slept last night
nearly through the night
when’s the last time i had a good
night’s
sleep?’
but the sleepiness that comes from that
actual
restful
sleep
is quite different than the usual
just
tired.

(sorry i got bored of this poem like immediately,
i guess that’s part of writing every day,
right?)