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
how can i remember
remembering
but can no longer remember
the actual thing?
~~~
it hurts my soul
to see our puppy so
sad and distressed
standing still in a cage
but it’s for her own good
and i wish
i wish
i could
explain to her in words
she’d comprehend:
‘just a few more days
and after, take it easy
and then, hopefully,
no more
puppy
prison’
~~~
how do people
craft poetry
instead of just letting
their guts fly free
internal thought process
and emotionality
all nakedly out
for any perusing
reading
eye to see?
sitting here
thinking of neurodivergence
thinking of
anxiety and depression
thinking of
acting from such a young age
thinking of
diagnoses and non
thinking of
societal standards
thinking of
pressure and constructs
thinking of
freedom from expectations and all that
~~~
experiment
think of words not often written
ponder places and things alike
you rarely ever write about
and maybe
just maybe
your poetry can have fresh(er)
life
~~~
to write about what i’m feeling:
a little bit of pain
a lot of hunger
love for my dog and for my kip
(and begrudging love for our
hassle cat)
the cold of the ice pack
the water flowing from esophagus
to stomach
and on
the tap of my elevated leg
toe against air
to the tempo of the music
yawns
tiredness
worry about armpit stinkiness
this whisker poking out from my chin
and an extreme itchiness on my scalp, under my braid
my teeth clenched together
(relax, relax, relax)
the taste of this blueberry coffee
and a little bit more centered
than when i started this poem
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?
planning and preparing
are nothing when it comes to
insurance
human fallibility
and the twists of the fates
~~~
i use squiggles
[tildes]
to break the momentum
from one poem
to the next
but only in a batch of three
because formatting in devices these days
is far too variable
for a whole line
so i rely on my
three
little
squiggles
to [hopefully] signify
to both reader and writer
that this poem is over–
re-ready yourself
for a whole new
poem
beginning.
~~~
lost in the depths of a book
so visceral
so immersive
so taking-me-along-for-the-ride
i can’t decide
if this one is more stressful than the first
but all of these ninths
give me some sort of curse
of caring
and staring
long distances as i listen to them
audiobooks carrying me through the star-system
the big house
the river
and i just want to know
what happens next
what happens next
what happens next???
what
does it all mean
why
does it all happen
and when
will it all come to blows
~~~
a little existential
but also
maybe necessary
(but also also
maybe not?)
~~~
waiting on bagels
almost here
so excited
we haven’t had them
in so so so damn long
(four
whole
days)
they’ve arrived!
oh no
i
gotta wake up
better
today has been
full of blunders
and it’s not even 8:30
yet
~~~
today’s date
3/23/23
32323
i know it’s human-made
and kind of slap-dash at that
but it still pleases my
little crow brain
to see the numbers
all aligned and repeated and palindromed and all that
~~~
my stomach is churning
and my heart is racing
and i have no signals to say
if it’s anxiety or physicality
or some weird mixture of the two in me
but either way
i’m just a little
uncomfortable
today
little puppies
just getting the all clear
to walk and run and jump and play
on all four legs
and here comes
a lump
a possible tumor
and why is this perfect puppy
not showing perfection
in her vet visits???
~~~
catching up
with poetry
feels like
catching up
with feelings
with emotions
with processing things
i have a hard time
processing
i suppose
that’s
a good thing
~~~
i starting thinking
in poetry
about a year ago
but today i started
dreaming in poetry
for the first time
(does it [all] mean anything?)
kipventures 