evening poems
while william shatner
tells me all the unexplained mysteries
i should care about
but i simply
don’t
~~~
big yawns
and split-up sleep
and hopefully getting
the cat to eat
or take her meds
at least
[almost done with this trip
and i’m so excited to sleep
in my own bed
once again]
~~~
but seeing people has been absolutely lovely —
i wouldn’t exchange that
for anything
[even eight uninterrupted hours]
a family
a train ride
and thousands of sunflowers
in fields rolling past
at 266 km/h
and somehow it all reminds me of
van Gogh’s paintings
and how much i want to become
an impressionist
~~~
i just got so confused
as to why the baby in front of me
wasn’t crying in response to the
baby crying in the next train car over
and then i remembered that babies are not dogs
who bark and howl to be heard by others
of their species…
~~~
this whole trip
is a whirlwind
this whole life
kind of is
too
at least i have a train car
inside which to sit and write
all my silly poems
~~~
every
single
time
another train passes directly by
i
am
startled
~~~
there are
so many more palm trees
than i ever would have expected
in Europe
[i think that’s on me tho,
because climate is a known thing]
~~~
i think
if you’ve seen
any
van Gogh painting
of nature
or landscape
you’ve seen the full spirit of
what these trains speed past
when i think of an elephant, i see giant gentleness, i hear the stomps of their feet and the flapping of their ears, and i feel a sense of peace and safety
~~~
when i think of an elephant, i see mammoth past, i hear calls for connection for the present, i feel uncertainty for a future for them all
~~~
when i think of an elephant, i see a being, i hear a whole herd, i feel the lifetimes of their ancestors and descendants all around me
~~~
rsvp to The Elephant Play here
spectacular
spectacle
and spectacles help us all
see
wonders
in our own
and each others’
eyes
for once
for twice
for as many times
as we might find a rhyme
and/or reason
to climb
and explore
and discover
and become
one
with some sort of
happiness
[if we can
if we can]
~~~
there’s still a bit of
misalignment
when it comes to
my own self
and my poet self
and i cannot tell if that’s because
i don’t perform my own poetry enough
that it becomes as second nature as
acting
or aerial
or simply listening
but my own poetry
i have to remind myself
‘i made this
and it isn’t
half
bad’
~~~
or perhaps it’s because
i’m all self-taught
and i’m just flying by
the seat of my pants
and i can’t totally tell
what works and what’s a fail
except that
some poems flow like water
and some drip like sludge
and every now and then
i find a rhyme that tastes as good as it sounds
but i don’t know how i found any of that
it just happens
through trial and error
every
single
time
like i’m always starting
from one
can i just
pick up
where a poem left off?
~~~
and continue the poetry
will it still be magical?
will it still be me?
~~~
i mean, probably
it has to be
because it is still me
who’s writing all the words
right?
i don’t actually know what it means
to be
a great writer
a great poet
i’m just sitting here
at my messy dinner table
early in the morning
writing whatever comes to mind
as a way to encourage myself
to deal with the day
that is coming towards me
at breakneck speed
maybe,
when you’re in your ‘fighting a [seemingly] losing war
against fascism with the best tool you have —
kindness’ era
you’ll understand
~~~
i feel like this kind of morning
and this kind of writing
is the reason i started this challenge to begin with
i feel more awake
more aware
more ready to start my day
though i still need to edit and pick and send in the audition
i feel so much more prepared for it
now
~~~
“you look like such a writer!”
of my big sweater
comfy tee
glasses
bun
and coffee in hand
and i do, don’t i?
i do…
grey skies and
drip drops on window panes and
the perfect day to nap your stress away
and
the perfect evening to be lulled into deep deep sleep
~~~
evening pages
much much later than normal poetry time
[am i just doing this
to say that i did it?]
[isn’t that all life is anyway?]
~~~
i think
three
poems is enough poems
for such a late late night
poem-writing-time
so much happened yesterday
and i
didn’t even poem about it
[yet]
~~~
{trigger warning: suicidal ideation, mention of eating disorders}
my overanalytic brain
that runs through every possibility
that made a whole “pro & con” list
on which eating disorder
to give myself
is probably the same thing
that has saved me
from actually killing myself
every time i’ve gotten close
in these
ideations
~~~
distracted
and distractable
and not what i wanted
from my day at home
preparing to do things
i should be doing
should have done
days
weeks
months
ago
but am i just going to
nap
again
until it’s time to leave
again?
again?
again?
i think
my “problem”
is that i have big picture
thinking
with tiny detail
brain
and that just makes everything
overwhelming
all the time
~~~
like
i can see the whole planet
and each conflict
and how the systems lead to suffering
and how it
literally
doesn’t
need
to be
this way
but instead of just thinking about the systems
i then ‘zoom in’ and see
each country
each family
each child
each breath of the earth
suffering
suffering
suffering
and i am stuck
because i don’t want to look away
for fear i’ve cheapened
their individual
suffering
and story
but it’s hard to hold
hundreds
thousands
millions
billions
of people’s individual narratives
in a brain trained to only concentrate on one’s own
so i panic
and breathe hard
and fast
and when the feeling has finally passed
there’s the guilt
there’s the guilt
and i know it’s all going to happen
again and again and again
~~~
so how in this world do i utilize
my big picture imagination and individual compassion
without falling into
obsession?
without falling into the chain reaction of
‘i’ve decided to help one thing/cause/person —
‘but wait, this other person has it worse/’
‘but wait, this other cause is more just/’
‘but wait, this other thing runs so much deeper
and has its tendrils in so many of the other
horrors of this world…’
how do i stop my decision paralysis
when it comes to helping
human decency?
[i honestly don’t know
do you?]
meander into my life
and i’ll appreciate you forever/
meander out and i’ll still
talk about you
lovingly
from time to time to time/
force your way in, and i’ll find space
in my heart
for everything you have to say
and everything you represent/
but force your way out
and i’ll never ever ever ever
ever ever forgive you
~~~
the trauma and angst is heavy this morning
and yet it feels brighter
and happier
than mornings have been
lately
~~~
capture the light of life
in poetry
and maybe
life will capture you
and kiss you
and place you back
gently
into the light
kipventures 