i’m lost in a dream
and the future as it seems
to spread out in front of
and behind me
and i still can’t get a good grasp
on the present, that’s the one thing
hidden away
lost
unfindable
irreplaceable —
the past keeps adding up
and the future is infinite
it is only the present as it is
that is only
one thing
math jazz
leaves your mind
expecting
exactly
what it
isn’t
~~~
i’ve written so much
of
nothing this morning
and
i can’t seem to stop
nor
do i feel satisfied with anything i’ve done
so
i guess i’ll keep writing and writing and writing
until
i feel some sort of closer closure, somewhere.
~~~
do i not want to review my older works because i think they’ll be worse,
or do i not want to delve deep because i know myself and my tendency
to get all wrapped up, bundled in the blanket of the past, wondering
what if what if what if, until i find myself unable to experience the
presence of the
present
moment
?
i’d like
for my poetry
(and my acting, similarly,)
to open up the secret parts of me,
those parts that no one [sometimes not even me] sees
and bring honesty and truth and a dash of the full, elaborate
condition
of humanity
out into the forefront of all our minds
but i find
that i hide behind
humor
and perfectionism
and overthinking
and intellectualism
(but aren’t those a part of me, too?)
how can i find the true me
if it takes a bomb to push through?
that day
in class
when i accessed
what i’ve been trying to for so long,
it wasn’t a push or a force or a bomb
it was a steady ease into the presentness of my body
my mind felt connected,
continually,
for the first time in (give or take) an eternity
so maybe that should be my aim
the gentle
allowance
of self
into my poetry
but how to do that?
[breathe?]
fear,
longing,
loathing,
fright,
fear
fear
fear
new situations
new [old] people
new experiences
fear
fear
fear
stress
interpersonal relationships
consistency
inconsistency
adventure
reliability
responsibility
fear
past
nostalgia
future
expectations
present
moment
where?
fear
fear
fear.
should i still be aiming for a word count
if my goal is simply a kind of getting in touch with my creativity
my brevity
my word choice
my ability?
going through poems the other day,
in a frenzy to organize my most disorganized thoughts,
gave me the reminder that i once wrote five hundred words
easily
in one poem
my structure was simply
get the thought out
ponder it
in poem form
use the words
sparingly
but still explore
within words
what the concept means to me
do i not do that anymore?
or was the long form a new addition to the creative family
taking up residence in my brain?
kipventures poetry started out as shorter form,
some days only one to three lines
describing a whole adventure in a strange new place
so…why does nothing feel that familiar anymore?
should i explore what this family of creatives does
in my head?
or is that a one-off concept
simply useful for that singular line
and
(ope, another random memory
this time the apartment kip and i shared
in that house
in Pittsburgh
[what is it with Pittsburgh
recently?]
the sunlight streaming in through the attic bedroom windows
the weird mirrored closet doors
driving around
five below
dunken donuts vegan bacon on bagel breakfast sandwiches
that whole summer
stressful
and yet
such good memories)
what even was i talking about?
i went off on another tangent
in my brain
of when kip and i were first together
mowgli hadn’t even been born yet
but louka was living her
hard dog life
(in dog jail, if the stories are true)
and how do/will i feel about that?
if we do end up being able to adopt
and our baby is already born as of right now
am i going to look back on this time and think
‘i was so privileged, and our baby was so not,
what was i doing enjoying my life
while our baby was in trouble?’
but i can’t know that now
there are too many possibilities
to ponder
i know this is the anxiety
but it also feels like the worst super-power;
i can imagine and contemplate and see all paths,
past, present, future,
the possibilities endless
and they are all in my
stupid human brain
the insurmountable number
being
what makes my brain
damn near explode
(maybe i am super-human
simply from being able to hold all those possibilities
without any sort of fiery
boom,
but who knows;
it’s building up
it could happen
any day
now…)
kipventures 