though i hate
the cold
with my entire being
there is something lovely
about the coziness
and whoosh
of warmth
winter
May 29, 2022
sometimes, you need the break,
and sometimes the break needs you,
and every now and then
you need each other,
and that
is a beautiful day
(if you listen)
~~~
what is it about the stardew valley
wintertime
music
that feels so sad
and desolate
and cold
and hopeful
and magical
and pleasant
and soft
and exciting
and new
every time i listen?
every time i play?
~~~
puppy whines
cat hisses
communication:
solid misses
March 12, 2022
a whole host of
feelings
dreary
hungry
tired
that seem to
disconnect
me from feeling
any other things
[inspired
full-spirited
interest]
~~~
this winter seems to go on forever
except
unlike the Wisconsin winters
i’d been used to,
this one has a very
Cleveland flare:
stopping for a day or two,
letting the flowers in the yard
start to peak from the ground,
green stems pointing towards the sky,
before dumping another
few inches
or damn near
a whole foot
of freezing rain/hail/sleet/
pure snow
on us once more
(only to have all that
melt
in a matter of days,
and have the buds
begin
to emulate
full flowers;
colors in the back
side
front yards
before it all turns to white again
just for the green to stick out
over top)
the fight
over what season
March
should be.
~~~
what to write about
in mornings when i feel
the least like myself;
not even more sad
than my usual rainbow demeanor,
just too tired
to be
me
?
February 26, 2022
yesterday it rained
not from clouds or sky
but from frozen branches
and telephone wires
and i walked
under the melting drops
and cared for a twisted ankle
and recorded auditions
and read for classes
and i felt so
accomplished.
and today i read for myself
and relaxed the day away with my spouse
and noticed the ankle not doing too well
and rehearsed for a different class
and waited to poem my poetry
and both sky and ground
were clear
and dry
and i still
can feel
accomplished.
February 13, 2022
yesterday
Kip and i walked outside sans coats,
and built a greenhouse on our deck,
and swept away dead leaves,
and soaked up the sun
as long as we could
(and still a little longer)
knowing that
February 50-degree weather
lasts not nearly as long
as most would like…
and lo and behold,
this morning we woke to
giant, wet snowflakes
dropping from the sky,
piled high on the greenhouse,
and packed atop the steps
kip had so painstakingly ridded of leaves
less than twelve hours prior.
but we still walked
(with coats)
and kip built a tiny snow-person
and the sun didn’t shine as brightly through the snow-clouds,
but i suppose this is the point
of living somewhere
with cycles of weather
that come and go;
so you remember to enjoy the sun
when it arrives…
and it will arrive
again
soon.
February 3, 2022
still don’t know what the groundhog said
guess i could look it up
(even tho it has very little to do with anything real,
but we all need a distraction these days, right?)
six more weeks of winter
(as opposed to ‘early spring’)
but six more weeks isn’t terrible;
the full month of February
(which is annoying, but expected)
and then half of March
(March, which lost its status as
‘normal month’ way back in 2020;
i don’t think i’ll ever look at another
March
the same way again)
but i think,
i *think*
i can do it.
~~~
most mornings
the sunlight blazes through
our east-facing windows,
catching in our eyes
as we sit to write
morning pages and morning poems
and things of that nature
and the shine is so great
that half my computer screen
fades to white
and generally
we put up with it
for the warmth
(and for the plants)
but this morning
the sun is barely making itself known
through these dense clouds
bringing with them rain
and drear
and we miss that sun
not just the warmth
but also the light
the indication of daytime
the blasting through our senses
waking us up
in a way
that only coffee comes close
to imitating
~~~
i keep wanting/desiring/being drawn to the
writing
of tough stuff
in the evening
but in the morning
when i have more wherewithal
to contemplate
the complicated
my aversion to tackling
the ‘tough stuff’
grows
exponentially
(but maybe one of these mornings)
(or maybe one of these days i’ll just have to
write
in the eveningtime)
January 31, 2022
it’s about to be
That Time:
February.
in a non-leap-year,
February and March
have the same date attached
to the same day of the week,
and this messes me
the fuck
up.
i’ve missed more appointments
than i care to admit
scheduling them for February
when i thought i’d scheduled them for March,
and more than a few
shown up too early
seeing the day and the date come up
in the second month of the year
just to have them actually be
in the third.
i know ‘reading the date more carefully’
is a way around this,
but sometimes my eyes see
exactly what they want to see
instead of what is
(and especially within this
year three
of a global porcupine ,
where concentration is lacking
in most of us
due to collective trauma
observed
[directly or indirectly]
day in
and day out
and day in
and day out
and my only saving grace
last year
was that nothing needed to be scheduled
during these months;
resurgences,
and my own clumsy injuries,
and the cold outside,
and my own seasonal depression…
i hid through most of the winter,
hibernated the initial instance of
‘Tuesday the first’
away)
but
i’m trying to be more proactive
more energized
more engaged
this year
so i’ll read
and re-read
and re-re-re-read
and have my spouse check
the dates of things
(or just not schedule anything
non-consistent
at all)
(i mean, hey,
there’s a reason i scheduled my booster
for today,
the last day in January,
a date i won’t even see
for another
fifty-nine
days)
and maybe
just maybe
this therapy
of breathing
and taking my time
and forgiving myself
my past errors
is [could be] helping?
January 28, 2022
the snow sprinkles downwards
as i look towards the sky
wondering why
wonder when
wondering how
the beauty laid out on the ground
but i always search for answers
rather than accepting
beauty for beauty’s sake
(which may make me a curmudgeon,
but damn is there beauty in science
too)
January 27, 2022
so cold
too cold to think
too cold to do much else
but obsess about the cold
~~~
apparently that poem is too true
my brain has short-circuited
and i ponder things other than the cold
but they only flit in and out
as my body gets used to the
inside heat once more
(even though it’s not nearly as heated
as my freeze-baby body would prefer)
(and that’s still with snow pants and a sweater on)
(but will i stop drinking this ice-cold coffee?
absolutely not.)
~~~
fake fireplace
give me warmth
flicker your rolling light flames
and force heated air towards my
shivering bod
my one solace in the wintertime
January 22, 2022
see
me
doing the work
writing the things
pushing
daily
meet
me
in between
the day and the night
the push and the pull
the enjoying the work
and the pushing through for completionist’s sake
and do it all
in a mf-ing
pandemic
~~~
don’t know where that came from
except my brain
so i guess it’s not all sunflowers and random peaks of
existential dread
up in here…
~~~
the thing is, i’m not pushing
that hard,
like,
i do like
writing
i enjoy it
and [especially] when i get into flow
it’s the most fulfilled and productive i feel
but the last few days/weeks have felt
‘off’
and i can’t quite figure out why,
but i just keep going
and if i don’t write anything that i deem
‘good enough’ for posting
i simply go back to other days
where writing felt smoother
and more ‘of me’
(or something)
and i post that
(which i’ve done before
but maybe not so many days in a row?)
(and even the written — posted days
feel
not great)
did the second poetry-writing challenge break me?
or is this simply the effects of wintertime
(and every year i’m surprised)
kipventures 