coffee
waiting for me
in the fridge
getting cooler and cooler
until it’s cold enough for me to drink
and feel it icing me
awake
[i wish i would have remembered to do this
last night, but the delayed anticipation is
a strange and new feeling
and i love feeling new
things]
one more
just for funzies
just for writing
just for clearing out the
cobwebs in my brain
one more
just for doing something
just for getting writing out
just for waking up my whole self
before it slowly drifts away
one more
just for excuses
just for habit-forming
just for habit-breaking and re-making
one more
just for me
just for a reader i’ll never see
just for the universe to know
i wrote
one
more
poem
i think
one more poem
i think
one more stream
of the consciousness
of the mind wandering
of the fingers tappity typing
all the way across the screen
one more poem
of waking myself up
the addition
of composition
to my coffee
and hydration
the combination
is what helps me
feel
slightly
more awake
slightly
more alive
slightly more ready
to make this day
one
that i can at least survive
[someday
i may just
thrive]
but today, i just have to aim
for one more poem
at
a
time
a poem
to center
not distract
a poem
to wake up
not relax
a poem
to get the brain
the body
the mind
the soul
going
a poem
to bring me into
this world
this day
this moment of time
into
maybe even
myself
a poem.
a poem to call to waking
the brain that’s still sedated
for what is more startling
than words not expecting
and an intellectual search in the mind-house
it always feels so strange to me
when i can acutely feel the effects of
whatever is waking me up
actively waking me up
whether it’s writing poetry
or drinking coffee
or water
just recognizing my body and brain
slowly opening up
and letting the day in
like a flower in the sunshine
[we are all far more nature
than we
realize]
concentration
is a little lax
may the fourth
(be with you)
and waiting for
cookies for breakfast
(should we get real cookie trays at some point?)
(probably yes)
it feels both like 5 am
and 10 already
but it’s only 7:15
and my brain feels disheveled
like my childhood bedroom i never cleaned,
but if i need
there’s coffee on my right side
and a puppy nestled into the couch
and a kip for conversations
distractions
cuddles
and sillies besides
so i suppose i should actually partake in this
morning ritual;
get some caffeine in my veins,
listen to this silly music,
and get on with my day.
autumn is a time for falling asleep
spring is the awakening
autumn is preparing for the months of winter depression
spring is shedding those sads
autumn is slowing, pondering, thinking, dying
spring is the adrenaline amping up again
so why do i feel so tired and sad and ponderous
while spring is all around me?
~~~
coffee
music
cat on lap
dog on couch
kip across the table
help me enter the day
my way
~~~
i know my headspace isn’t great
if i obsess over things
or
if i shoot from one subject matter
to the next
to the next
with no real resolution
and no thinking through to the end.
so why are my indications
entirely opposing?
is this my black and white thinking coming to some sort of fruition
or is this the source of my non-grey-mind?
falling asleep just
thinking
about the words i’m about to write
and the things necessary to be done today
and the accomplishments i need to do before this week ends
there’s a van down the street
just a few doors down
rumbling
and popping
and waking itself up for the day
if this van with
[clearly]
many things in need of fine tuning inside it
can take its time
getting itself ready
for its tasks for the day
then i certainly can wake myself up
through poetry
[and coffee]
~~~
but
i’m not awake
yet
~~~
the fake fireplace glows
and blows
forced heated air
at us
while the tiny humidifier
blows vapored water
up
into the air
into the plant beside it
reflecting in the mirror behind it
and we drink our coffee
as the dog tries so hard to lick her legs
on the couch
(that has become 100% hers)
and the cat is…
…somewhere
(a standard morning at the kips’)
trying to figure out
what i need
each
and every
morning
to feel fully
me
because i had a great time
these last couple of weeks
having coffee with my Kip
up on the deck
chatting
or planning
or meditating
or bird-watching
or dog-playing
’twas fun and new and exciting
(and the meditation certainly helps most of the time)
but my brain and body
have gotten used to
Morning-Pages
Morning-Poems
Morning-Putting-Thoughts-To-Tomes
that, apparently, without them, i feel
just
a little bit
lost…
i mean, clearly, i catch up,
do an afternoon poem,
or after a few days, back-schedule the words i write at the time
but this
pre-8:00-writing
this Morning-Gathering-My-Thoughts,
this is where my true me shines
(or maybe just the me that is the most
Raw)
kipventures 