decisions
preparing
discussions
excitement?
maybe?
~~~
all these silly
vague
hints
peek into my world
but don’t see
fully
~~~
do i write today?
do i post today?
do i wait today?
who knows?
(certainly not i)
decisions
preparing
discussions
excitement?
maybe?
~~~
all these silly
vague
hints
peek into my world
but don’t see
fully
~~~
do i write today?
do i post today?
do i wait today?
who knows?
(certainly not i)
concentrate first on what you’re writing
don’t think about how to perform it
nor what people are going to think of it
nor what people will say to you
sunday will arrive far sooner than you expect,
why make it arrive earlier
by anticipating everything that will happen?
(maybe that’s just how my brain works?)
(but it seems very, very unhelpful)
~~~
i don’t know why
french café music
calms me so
but it sure does
so here it plays
morning after morning
picking up a few more words every dawn
surprising myself by how much i understand
hoping one day to catch it all.
~~~
am i ever going to attack
full, epic, long-form, big damn poetry
again?
(i suppose i just did,
what with the monologue assignment
i just wrote slam poetry for,
and i suppose i shouldn’t
count out
the big poems
sitting in this giant document
just waiting for revisions
and posting)
but it confuses me,
this ebb and flow of poetry
of how some days words slip and flow
and some days i must pull and pull and pull
and what that all means for myself
and me
and my creativity…
connect
with
your words
yourself
your past
your present
(maybe even your future)
all you have to do is
connect
with
your words.
~~~
every evening i go to bed
expecting to wake up
and be hit
struck
stampeded
by inspiration,
and every morning i wake up
and i’m still
simply
tired.
~~~
(is it time yet?
time to contemplate what makes folks ‘like’ the poetry i post?
is it time to admit that, maybe i’m not writing for an audience,
but i’ve probably started posting for one.)
sometimes you have to go back
and re-re-read your older poetry
(yes, the poetry you so recently re-read
in order to post it to the blog)
because you had such a concept[control]
of the language
the alliterations acting as appetizers
on an empty stomach/tongue,
and as you read
(and think “why the fuck can’t i find that
language
this time ‘round?”)
maybe tell yourself
maybe remind yourself
you probably thought that same thing back in early May
late April
and perhaps,
in a month or two or three
(or even a year or two or three)
you’ll look back on this
early
mid
June
and think to yourself
“my goodness,
i was so good at poetry
back then.”
i feel as though
i have very little to say lately
going through and posting poems
from this experiment of poetry journaling
poetry-every-day-ing
poetry for poetry’s sake
-ing
and i used to have so much to say
even if it was just writing about writing about writing about writing
the lilt of the poems
lifting off the screen
i could feel the tempo in my mouth
but lately
i’ve been
ever
so
slightly
more
stagnant.
a sudden
desolate
feeling
(from where?)
(is it fear?)
(is it unknowns?)
(is it this music?)
(is it simply brain chemistry
once again?)
~~~
i have scores
of unfinished poems
on complex concepts:
identity,
isms (race and otherwise),
individuality,
depression,
misgendering,
gender euphoria,
magical summers,
myself,
others,
and on and on and on
and i hope to some day share them;
feel confident enough in what i’ve already written,
come to some sort of conclusion that helps the poem
stay
important,
feel like the poem expresses what a
Big Concept
should truly express,
but for now i keep slugging along
writing little poems
about my morning
and hoping that
some day
i’ll feel awake enough
to really sift through
those big poems
again.
~~~
i have a secret to tell you
(shh, don’t tell anyone else)
i usually write more than one poem
a morning,
but i’ll save the poem that doesn’t have the right
‘feel’
for that morning
for a different morning,
a morning when i can’t express myself in poetry
(or a morning where i’ve expressed myself too well,
and the poems feel too personal
to share on this here poetry blog),
and i find a secondary poem
from a day long since passed (past?)
and i appropriate it
for that day
to have something to share
to have something to post
(and,
as an overly-honest person,
i wonder if i should make note of these,
write at the bottom
“this poem originally conceived of on ________ date”
but i haven’t yet,
because this poem a day thing is for me,
and posting for others is secondary,
so if i want a record of when poems were written
and when poems were placed elsewhere,
i’d write it down within my drafts
(i already do)
but maybe,
as this blog is a solid gathering
of poems i am ok with being public,
i could indicate this,
also for my own records
just in a different spot…?
maybe?)
i’ve spent the last few days [weeks]
posting these poems
up on my poetry blog
and i feel far more accomplished
and yet
there’s still a feeling
of
i get closer to my actual base thoughts
when i’m not worrying about which poems to post
[though i’d been posting the poems from days gone by]
so will i get back to that magic
of day 1, day 2, day 3, day 4, day 5, day 6…
will i need to set a schedule for posting? every three days? every week?
and do i really need to contemplate this out loud
into words
into my poems
into my way of conceptualizing/processing/thinking/feeling/knowing
in order to make them
more
real?
i’ve been posting
diligently
for the last few weeks,
re-reading poems
from the start of this
poem-a-day-venture,
editing where they need it,
mostly surprising myself in my own confidence
and love
of my own words.
and while i haven’t told a lot of people
about this undertaking
quite yet
i’ve told a few
and that’s scary
but at least a little bit
invigorating.
and i’m trying not to write
for the purpose of being read
i’m trying to simply write
for writing’s sake.
but the purpose of this poem
this post
today’s post
is that, as of this day,
the 6th of June,
i’ve finished my backlog of posts
and am actually,
truly
posting on today.
(and i know me,
i know myself,
i know i’ll probably have a few days where i’m not feeling up to posting right away
and i’ll collect a bit of a backlog again,
but at least it won’t be
damn near two month’s worth of work
again)
and yet,
(and yet)
not having that big of a backlog
means i won’t feel this kind of
accomplishment
about this project
again…
sudden sillies
pop as classical radio
chatting with the spouse
singing at the spouse
dancing at the spouse
after writing/editing/posting so many things
dealing with depression
how can my goofiness
still show itself
this fiercely?
i’ve now been writing for a little more than a month and a half
and i just started posting like a week ago
it’s definitely given me a perspective
i didn’t expect…
confidence
in old poems
re-reading large poems
with big concepts
assuming i’d need to edit/adjust/revise
before wanting to post them
but feeling like they are whole
already.
i still don’t know what this actually means
for my skills
in poem-making,
if i’m still stuck in the black and white view of
good or bad
first draft comes from the heart/soul/gut
so any changes will be disingenuous
so just post it
as is
(but
what if
i’m not unlocking
my true potential from
within)
(or
am i simply
avoiding
what i know will turn into
obsessive
obsession
for making it perfect
when poetry
thrives
in
imperfection?)
~~~
is there another poem inside me
today
this morning
is there something else i need to get out
another concept to contemplate
another topic to purge from my soul
another thought, barely formed, scratching at the corners of my mind?
really
what i’m thinking this morning
is
it’s so dreary out
and i have so much to do
and my head hurts like crazy
and all my body wants to do is nap
and all i want to do is find any motivation
anything
at all.
~~~
and yet
(and yet)
i’m actually super stoked about posting?!?!