i definitely feel like my concentration is a bit
gone
these days
don’t know if i’ll get it back
don’t know if i want it back
but i suppose
this is how
human-ness goes
~~~
how many times must i
write ‘how many times must i’
until it captures this tiredness
from life
and structure
and stricture
and strife
enough that i can leave
that openng phrase
behind?
~~~
don’t know if that poem is
exactly what i was trying to say
but hey —
i said it.
just some
morning pages
morning poetry
to get the day going
into the wild
into the craziness
into the sad sad adventure
that is today
~~~
seeing
the babies
step up
to be adults
is great
is great
is great
to see
~~~
green left
maroon right
blue body
and yellow hood
a sweatshirt
for all
for everyone
to be
cozy cozy
autumn
~~~
i can’t really concentrate
today
and that’s okay
that’s okay
~~~
who knows
how much
is leaving my brain
and staying
in any one given moment
~~~
teeny tiny poems
for a big big day
wild
how lost
am i
that i don’t
feel things
except panic
~~~
stressing
less
than i probably should be
given
circumstances
but more
than i probably would be
without
anxiety
(are they related?)
(probably)
~~~
maybe
some day
i’ll finish a
whole big-ass poem
(but probably not today)
who else
has gotten
this far in life
just to
question
everything?
~~~
probably
a lot of people
actually
amiright
~~~
books
bringing
creativity
tv shows
about
gaming
where is the fantasy
in my own
life?
where can i
create
and write
and adventure?
where can i
do all the things
buzzing about
in my little
MaybeHD
brain?
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
no creative energy
no inspirational flow
no way to know
if this is how it is today
or if i just need to let my imagination
go
~~~
so
i suppose
i’ll write
~~~
a glitch
in the system
a ghost
in my computer
a little spark of the unknown
is everywhere
around us
hungry
worried
early
morning
mundane and
not so mundane
worried
so worried
still hungry
~~~
calm morning
of stress
wanting
less
of the drama that comes from
this little broken puppy pup
but still
we’d rather
have her
all torn ligaments
and fractured bones
and menacing hassles
than not
~~~
it’s so strange to hear
simple
calm
piano
in the morning
i’m used to
acid jazz
and electronic house
and more chaotic sounds
to wake up to
but the calm simplicity
seems to be helping me
find more in my poetry
(and harmonizes well with a sighing puppy)
how long
can i hate myself
and come out the other side
to love
it has to be a flat circle
like time
no?
~~~
weird ass songs
fill my
weird ass heart
with
weird ass vibes
of
weird ass love
(hahaha, ass-love)
~~~
i feel as though my poetry
is getting less and less
hinged
i.e.
more and more
and more and more and more
unhinged
as the words/years/time flies by
but maybe i was always this unhinged
it just took a little while
to write
write
write as if your life
depended on it
write
as if you couldn’t start a whole day
without it
write as if you couldn’t find
your true identity
as a human being
unless you were to
write
write
write as if you just can’t do anything
but
write
~~~
am i actually
naturally
good?
or am i fooling myself
over
and over
and over again?
~~~
does it even matter tho?
if i get satisfaction?
if i feel pleased?
should i even care if anyone else deems it ‘good’
?
mushrooms
and tree leaves
and images only i can see
my head fills to the brim with
delights
and devestation
and it’s no wonder
the bright devouring
of death
of fungi
are what i connect with
best
~~~
my therapist often rephrases links
of two seemingly disparate ideas
from “but”
to “and”
and
it has helped me in my own journey
to temper my black and white thinking
and see the world for the shades of grey
it truly is
~~~
queer icons
rainbow capitalism
greedy estates
but accessible designs and an un-kept gate
fuck
everything really is a shade of grey
kipventures 