the experience
of hating wearing glasses so much
that every time they smudge
or get dirty
you refuse to take them off and clean them
because then
you would be giving in to the idea
that you’ll wear them
for more time
in the day
and you don’t want to give the concept of “glasses”
that satisfaction
[as foolish and ridiculous
as you know that sounds/is]
so then
days go by
and you simply tilt your head
this way
and that
to get around
each splot of smudge
and speckle of dirt
and the glasses themselves
are made up of mostly grime by this time
but
still
cleaning them
would indicate
intention
and you don’t intend
to wear your glasses
much
anyway
poem a day
December 2, 2024
it is only the second day
of the last month of the year
and not even winter
quite yet
and yet
the air has already started to taste stale
and my drive for surviving
ebbing away every minute
and i can’t see how
i’ll get through
next year
[was my premonition
as an angsty teen
just delayed by a couple of decades?]
December 1, 2024
hungry for something
something that aches me
something that can’t feed me
but can barely
sustain me
hungry for the feeling
of feeling
sans hunger
sans want
sans desire
sans anything that could be conflated
as relient
on anything
or anyone
but
i can’t help but feel
a Palestinian child
with me
in my own hunger
and when i’m sated
at least physically
if not philosophically
how
is that baby
halfway around the world
doing
in a manufactured famine
in a dictionary-definition genocide
[are they still alive?]
November 30, 2024
but still
i’m here
i’m writing
i’m still here writing
November 29, 2024
seeing
the systems
and the patterns
and the power dynamics
that lead to humanity suffering
and feeling completely lacking in any ability
to stop it
could drive one mad
[and i wonder if it has]
[probably more than we know]
November 28, 2024
lost in my own thoughts
not about anything in particular
or even anything of worth
to my morning poetry adventure
just thoughts
about thoughts
about writing
about puppies
and thougths
about puppies
and bellies
and care
and the care we take
and the care we refuse
and everything as we lead up to
thanksgiving, and all that comes with it
the word
the history
the baggage
the holiday
the tradition
the fact that this country shouldn’t even exist
but here we are, on it
let’s care for Turtle Island while we still can,
got it?
November 27, 2024
birthday poems:
~~~
cotton candy coffee
for my birthday morning
and remembering the good things
that happened this year
[so next time i can only see
the terrible, i have something
to comfort me]
~~~
aging
in an age
where my own kin
are more likely to die
before this age
than i
simply because of the color of their skin
and their femininity called into question
and it aches in my whole
soul
to know
the hatred faced is meaningless
in the grand scheme of the universe
but the effects of suffering
very much
matter
in this day and age
where we have so much
what happened to humanity
that hoarding became more socially acceptable
than sharing
and giving
~~~
like a kid
on their birthday
here i am
on mine
trying
to follow the dopamine
and have a good time
but our puppy is sick
[though doing so much better!]
and there is so much pain and suffering
in the world
that’s about to get
a whole lot
worse
and i know if i
follow my own drive
and sense of self
i can do things
for me
while at the same time
following/providing
helping hands
for others
[all while battling the existential crisis
that is
turning 27 for a ninth time]
November 26, 2024
the puppy
refuses
to eat her own food
but the cat
is very ready
to eat it all for her
and then both animals
will have tummy troubles
today
November 25, 2024
i would like the word “billionaire”
to have the same negative connotation
as other words that really oughtn’t —
like “bitch” or “cunt”
or even racialized words…
let’s take the social implications
and flip them on their head.
just leaning femme doesn’t make someone
hated
and someone’s race no longer invites
such hatred being
spat
it’s the power usurped or gotten through
inhumane ways
that needs to be a slur
that needs to be a slur
let’s make “billionaire”
a slur
until all mega-rich people
give philanthropically
until their billions are
‘mere’ millions
and
people don’t hope to be one
anymore
[and then maybe their power
in our ‘democracy’/oligarchy
will be
nil]
November 24, 2024
i haven’t done my regularly scheduled morning poetry
in days
because of social times
and busy-ness
and re-discovering art
and then
our poor puppy
having so much gi distress
we’re parents of a newborn
sleeping when she sleeps
and waking the moment she indicates
she may have
another accident
at least i can do things for my kip
like be ready with the wipes when they get back inside
or take one of the overnight outsides
so they can grab a little extra sleep
because at least i can nap during the day
they can’t
even without work
their day is
set
with awake
the puppy and i will nap on the same couch
we’ve been sleeping on for days
and again
even during the daylight
i’ll sleep when she sleeps
and be privy to her stirrings
immediately
kipventures 