who is a little little pup
who’s gonna eat her breakfast up
to become a big strong dog
it’s Computer; gonna eat it all!
song
June 3, 2024
maybe
maybe
maybe
if i write enough
poetry
i’ll write enough
random rhymes
to come into a song
some time
and perform the me
i’d like to be
someday
somehow
some way
[but def not today]
May 1, 2023
lost
in a book
in music with words
in my own head’s thoughts
of solid phrases and anti-self-care behaviors
and i can’t think of how to
just get
out
~~~
thinking
about writing more
songs
poems to music
phrases that match up
with a tune and orchestration
and wanting to
maybe
perform it all
at some point
[soon?]
~~~
what happens
when you start thinking
in poetry
and try to bring others
along for the
ride
can you teach them how
or is it still just
such
a vibe?
December 24, 2021
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
When the day before the Eve-ening,
A precariously-leaned gate outside our door
Gave a neighborhood skunk quite a fright-ening
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
When throughout our teeny home
The not-quite-fully sealed window panes
Let the stink-smell roam
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
We’ve tried candles, incense, and fans
Though perhaps if we’d had a real-live-fir
Yeah, that would’ve been a good plan…
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
But at least it’s not the only threat
What with Omicron out a-spreading
Friends and family won’t be visiting just yet
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
But our animals don’t seem to mind
The cat runs around as spastic as us-ual
And the dog’s head tilts in kind
It’s a very skunk-y Christmas
When the day before the Eve-ening,
A precariously-leaned gate outside our door
Gave a neighborhood skunk quite a fright-ening
September 25, 2021
oh no,
forgotten poem
let’s fix that.
~~~
A Peaceful Town Where
NothingEverHappens
the song,
and beat,
strikes chords in my soul,
bopping my head
along the predetermined rhythm
wait wait waiting for the weird interlude
of words,
otherwise wordless,
the songs slip
into
and out of
me
A Peaceful Town Where
NothingEverHappens
~~~
how much of my writing,
these days at least,
is actual
“good”
poetry?
how much of it is getting into the crux of the matter/
brain matter/
how much do i matter?
i want inspiration,
inspiration to squeeze perspiration,
perspiration from my brain stem
where all the cogitation
infiltrates…
but i don’t ever know
if
when i rhyme-scheme like that
is it more me
or less?
am i playing by someone else’s rules?
am i becoming ‘cringe-y’?
although, the concept of awkward
is always from the dominant culture
so why am i so worried
if i want so badly to destroy white supremacy
and stick it to the man
and burn it all down and start something new
better
kinder?
is it because i was raised within the dominant culture?
it’s been embedded in my brain to worry about things
such as
keeping the status quo
all status
all quo?
as much as i try to fight for what’s right,
i definitely get a little fearful
of rocking the boat
too much
…
does that say i don’t actually want to rock the boat at all?
or am i simply aware that i have a lot more internal work to do?
or is the dominant culture simply one of invisible,
undefinable,
imperceptible,
unmeasurable,
strength
that sticks its claws into every fibre of our being
until we are still working for what we so long to work against?
fuck the idea of awkwardness
of status-ing the quo
i have rainbow hair, for goodness sakes,
i crave validation of my “weirdness”
i have rarely tried to dance to anyone’s beat but my own
(i’m just often unaware what my beat actually is…
i hear so many others
and it’s wonderful
and cacophonous
and beautiful music
but i would like to pick out mine
amongst the others
at some point
soon…)
kipventures 