talking
all morning
about silly business ideas
singing
all evening
about higher stakes lives
than our
own
spouse
July 28, 2023
gold painted roses
and bunches of baby’s breath
sparkle as they die
~~~
are haikus still a
Japanese art form when the
US does it wrong?
~~~
crow phone cases for
both the spouse and myself; match
and we become one
January 29, 2023
sappy poems
for new york city bakeries
of a spouse still sitting at home without me
because they’re so good at caring for our
little broken puppy
and i’m off playing as an artiste
the way i’d hoped to be
January 13, 2023
am i digging
writing
this morning
pressure
from me
to me
keeps playing
at least i have
a coffee nearby
and a bagel
soon to be in my belly
and a dog and a spouse and a cat in this house
all by my side
(emotionally at least)
don’t get caught up in the minutia
the tiny details
the what if these have all been said before
the before of writing
when you haven’t even put pen to paper
or finger to keyboard
when you worry what you have to say
isn’t good enough
or big enough
or beautiful enough
or you aren’t any of these things either
just write
May 28, 2022
wow.
pavlovian response to
lofi music playing:
immediate urge to poetry.
~~~
some days
(most days)
i need the poetry-writing to wake me up
(the coffee is simply comfort-waking
now
rather than an actual stimulant)
but then
some days
(rarely)
(but it does happen)
i need the coffee/the doing/the something
in order to wake myself up
before
i start to write the poetry.
today was one of the latter
days
~~~
a reference?
a reference only my spouse and i will understand?
a reference that might simply be an inside joke in poetry-form?
it’s more likely than you’d think!
March 5, 2022
nothing remembered
about today
nothing great
that got away
just chores
and a good day
with the spouse
no stress
no[t too much] doubt
taking it easy
chilling
getting house-things done
and monkey bread
yeah
we did do that!
no idea
where this rhyme scheme came from
[nor where it’s going]
but i guess
that’s all i got?
yep,
that’s that.
February 2, 2022
2-2-22
[two, two, two two]
and groundhog day
is my delight of fun dates lessened
because i’m no longer in a class where
writing the date is required,
and i no longer have dozens of other students around me
commenting on the weirdness/wonder-ness
of the date
let’s see if i can get that same high
just from spousal conversation;
the delighted “ah!”
akin to the noise [i’d believe] would come
out of the mouth of a baby velociraptor
that just emitted from my blue-haired spouse’s mouth
has made up for
years
without classmates
(and years with)
and how wonderful that i get to live this life
with this Kip
(especially since,
when i was a child in those classrooms,
i was sure,
absolutely, 100% convinced
that i would never be partnered
because my ‘weird’ was too much
for anyone else to love
(and also because, you know, the trauma,
and deals i made with myself
to avoid giving love to another
who may end up leaving me)
and yes, tomorrow isn’t guaranteed
but i now have hundreds of these morning page poems
each encapsulating a memory,
most across a giant, cluttered table,
writing early morning musings
while my spouse does the same
(or programs)
(or peruses the internet)
(or writes emails)
and those mornings turn into days
of silly moments during work hours
stealing a kiss because we missed each other,
and evenings of silly videos
or deep conversations
or delicious meals
or tight cuddles
or cat-hassling
or meandering dog walks
(oftentimes most or all of the above)
and baby HJ never thought they’d encounter
a human being
who could love them so much
warts (and tears) (and weirds) and all.
September 5, 2021 (part 2)
original plans
were a rush
(similar to the original plans
to arrive)
but i’m being gentler on myself;
i’m allowing myself the option
to be late for things
(so long as notice is given ahead of time)
and to miss things
(again, if i make folks aware)
these are classes
they are for me,
i have paid for them
and can do with them what i choose,
i am not forever barring any potential job
if i am fully communicative
and give advanced notice
and arrive prepared when i do arrive.
because we’ve seen too much
devestation
and death
in our short lifespans
than is probably good for the mental health
so i can’t justify
freaking out
about making every single appointment
when sometimes
you need to drive a little slower in the hurricane rains
or wake up a little later
to get [as close as possible to] that full night’s rest
and have plenty of time to say goodbye
to your fam
and relax
(as much as your anxiety-riddled mind will let you)
so that you can soak up
all the lessons
in the audio-book playing
and dog sleeping
and spouse-chatting
and your own mind wandering
and wondering
and planning
and conceptualizing
and safely driving
to get to your destination
of
back
Home.
July 25, 2021
for so long
i was the kind of person
who woke up every morning
and stretched for fifteen minutes.
i think i needed it, at that time,
so much loss and change and variability,
and i had a goal and i achieved it;
within the year (maybe within six months)
i could:
touch my toes,
drop into full splits,
left, right, and center,
and i could arch my back
backwards
and touch the floor on the other side.
and yes, i was younger
and limberer
(though i certainly didn’t feel that way
when i started)
but after high school,
i entered college
with roommates
and depression
and a year away
and figuring out my life
and another college
and too many classes/assignments/rehearsals
to fit in 24 hours,
and the diligence
of stretching every morning
slipped away…
and then meeting my to-be spouse
and graduation
living/moving around the midwest
Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Madison,
eventually ending up in our own home
and still i didn’t have a morning routine
akin to that which helped me through high school
nothing for my body
nothing for my mind
nothing for my soul
(but i was fulfilled, body, mind, and soul, in other ways;
discovering circus,
meeting my people,
having my kip with me through it all).
and when we moved to New York,
the spouse and i created a new tradition,
a new morning routine,
to make our lives a little more centered
as we entered our busy days.
and that habit ebbed and flowed,
adjusting for our own needs,
adjusting for the start of a global pandemic,
adjusting for the stressors and fears that accompany
life
in a ‘new normal’
kind of situation,
and we’ve been at this
morning pages
for a year and a half now,
and the poetry version
i’ve kept going
for a little over
one hundred days
and this has been paramount
to my emotional, intellectual, and spiritual health,
i’ve felt more connected to my own thoughts
(or awareness that i’m not)
for the first time since i was a small child
but my body still begs for consistency
and my muscle flexibility
hasn’t been touched in weeks
and there’s no habit i have that helps…
but that’s how i started
a decade and a half ago,
a feeling of need,
of desire,
of a goal i wanted to accomplish,
and i set my mind to do it
so i did.
and i know it won’t be as quick
(and i have more knowledge now
of all bodies and their different needs)
so maybe
now
i can find a time
an activity
a physically centering habit
to help me as we adjust
for new changes,
healthier spaces,
and connect body/mind/spirit
in one.
June 4, 2021 (part 2)
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?
kipventures 