i suppose trying to vaguely rhyme
and just kinda going with whatever appears
is better than forcing rhymes just for the sake of
a rhyme scheme interfering
with the processing that my own poetry is making
but i can’t help but thinking
that there’s more magic in installing
some sort of force around these words mine
[do they need a border to force-cross
to build up the power
to let the magic
out?]
into july
first day gone by
can’t exactly tell you why
i’m both calmed and concerned by
the month of
july
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
quiet the mind,
shush the brain,
but don’t force the silence
because then that’s all that remains.
i wonder if that’s why others’ poetry
takes longer to write;
because rhythm/rhyme/meter
don’t all happen in one night,
or just one setting,
like sitting in this morning page sun
listening to Japanese hip-hop lofi
and just kinda ~wish~ my scheme into one
sentence
then another
and another
and losing track
and losing steam
and losing the scheme
i [vaguely] thoughtfully put in here
and hearing the rhymes in my head
but only scattered/stilted/disjointed/
disappointed
i continue on
disrupting any complex pattern that might have arisen
so i can continue on this mess of a poem
and pretend that’s just
How I Write
(instead of
how
i think)
peppermint candy cane
leaking onto my tongue
and the prospect of a year
just barely begun
and the lofi beats
ringing in my ears
and the concept of dreams
fulfilled in place of fears
and one more stanza
to make this poem full
though rhyme schemes are for squares
maybe i can pull
this one off
[[guess not]]
the wind rushes through the trees
rustling the branches much stronger than a breeze
that pushing of the wind, the apprehension i feel,
used to be so frightening to me, but now, there’s appeal
the wind brings changes, newness, the switch of the seasons
and while change is scary, it’s no longer frightening without reason
i choose to look towards the possibility of what change may bring
and hear whatever the winds choose to sing
for in this poem, this struggle of rhyming couplets,
i’ve found a calmness in my fear’s former culprit
and that, i think, is worth this hassle of a rhyme-scheme.
kipventures 