January 7, 2023

the whole concept of writing
right now
feels egregious
to me

to sit in solemn silence
and ponder grand plans
tiny details
and all between
and simply translate them
to characters in words upon a screen

i don’t know why i
can go from sixty to zero
from brain chattering every day
so much to do, so much more to say
all the previous yesterdays
and then today
be struck
stuck
stagnant
and frustrated
by the whole concept of language

such is the life
and times
and minds
of writers?

November 19, 2022

i’ve been unintentionally rhyming
for a little while now
and i don’t know
how
i feel about it.

~~~

more words
more feelings
more emotions
more muck
to get out of my system
and out of my brain
to stream through the eyes/fingertips
onto a screen
where words seem so foreign
when writing from the heart
but here i am
here i go
here i
start

~~~

i’ve got good stuff
lately

and again

i don’t know how
i feel about
it

November 10, 2022

trying to get back
into the regular swing of things
but not knowing
if the test
will show
positive or negative
and whether i should really
be getting back
into the regular swing of things
or not

October 17, 2022

not feeling
anything
(writing
listing
poetry-ing)

was i this
lost
this time
last
year?

~~~

trying
to writing
with songs with words

we’ll see how this goes

~~~

was music all i needed
for me to feel like
this is a real morning???

September 26, 2022

is that
actually
what i’m doing
when i write
and post
my poetry?

i’m fitting myself
into each word
and phrase
and whichever one
comes closest
to revealing the true
me
is the one that meets
The Void
of the interwebs?

could be,
could be…

September 18, 2022

how am i
so good at hinting
in poetry–
‘whining the whole night’
an indication
of no rest/
stressful sleep/
loud noises/
what exhaustion comes
the morning after/
etc.

but i can’t just show
and not tell/
indicate
and not explain/
let the reader
figure it out
in fiction

why???

September 14, 2022

when i show friends
these words
there is an unspoken trust
and an irrational fear

the trust is to read
the fear is that they
have read

but the fear is also
of breaking of trust
that i am still somehow
too much
and not enough
too many poems
not enough time
in our society
that has no reason or rhyme
for when you’re allowed to just sit
and ponder poetry
and when you have to be hustling
because with self-care culture
relaxation has become another side hustle
and being in the moment
is simply a competition
to see who does it
‘right’

but i digress
and am getting ahead of myself
(or really, beside,
because i’m not sure where this poem
was trying to align itself
to begin with)

whenever i show
a friend
a loved one
this here poetry blog
i am both terrified
that they’ll read it
and terrified
that they won’t

maybe i should publish
the first year
just so new folks
have context
for the rest of this
craziness

August 21, 2022

words melt in my mind
from time to time
thinking them in dusk
in witching hour wants
and needing to write them out
but feeling like that would
break the spell
to spell out too much
to identify in analytic hours
so they simply
melt
become part of me
where they always were
to begin with
it seems

and maybe that’s the lesson
that’s to be earned and learned:
the words neither exist outside of me
nor are fully lost internally
they’re always there with me
as is my power
my connection
my rhythm and rhyme scheme and
spirituality
it just takes a little bit longer for myself
to see.

for where are these words and patterns
and rhymes and smatterings
of slammings be coming from
if not
inside?