just
rocking out
to some ratatat
[instead of writing
these morning pages
like i should be
like i should be]
writing about not writing
March 25, 2025
in photography, i have no problem
taking tens
of hundreds
of thousands of photos
knowing that somewhere in there,
there will be a great picture —
gorgeous
experimental
framed well
captured beautifully
and composition, exquisite
and even in poetry, mornings of multitudes,
all my poems
multiple
every morning, i know
not every poem will be great
but somewhere in here
there may be something
to write home about
then why oh why do i shy away from
the writing of prose/novels/
or plays?
as if i need my first try to be
so great
otherwise i should just
give
up
?
is it simply that it takes so much longer to write
longer form, than it does to slap dash down a poem
or capture a second or few
in a non-moving image?
so the effort to output
ratio feels more
[risky]
[or am i so scared of something more/or less scary?]
February 9, 2025
i keep feeling
almost
ready to write
like i
almost
have a concept i’m happy with
or i have
almost
found the optimal writing situation/
location/
time of day/
mood/
lighting/
sound/
something/
etc.
but
if imperfection is what i’m looking for
in the product
then perhaps
i should look for that, too
in the process
January 27, 2025
ugh, i can’t even write a poem
about being unable to write a poem
because being sick sucks…
December 30, 2024
the poetry is stilted
today
usually, if i get distracted
i catch myself staring off into space
for minutes
before i look back at my
half-finished poem
and then i take a moment to figure out
if i can reasonably get back into it
or not
but there is a moment
between realizing i’ve lost my concentration
and trying to get it back
that i know so well
and i keep having that moment
that feeling
without the minutes of staring off into nothingness
like my brain has decided it cannot concentrate
on even one poem this morning
and instead i must shatter my attention
into a million tiny bits
and hopefully i can repair them
into something resembling
a poem
November 30, 2024
but still
i’m here
i’m writing
i’m still here writing
November 24, 2024
i haven’t done my regularly scheduled morning poetry
in days
because of social times
and busy-ness
and re-discovering art
and then
our poor puppy
having so much gi distress
we’re parents of a newborn
sleeping when she sleeps
and waking the moment she indicates
she may have
another accident
at least i can do things for my kip
like be ready with the wipes when they get back inside
or take one of the overnight outsides
so they can grab a little extra sleep
because at least i can nap during the day
they can’t
even without work
their day is
set
with awake
the puppy and i will nap on the same couch
we’ve been sleeping on for days
and again
even during the daylight
i’ll sleep when she sleeps
and be privy to her stirrings
immediately
October 23, 2024
grand plans
for so many poems
but the attention span
to leave as soon as they’re started
July 22, 2024
every now and then i get scared
off from sharing this poetry blog because
what if my best poems are behind me
and those i invite to read only see now and upcoming
and never ever see the good stuff?
July 20, 2024
why is writing this morning
like pulling teeth?
didn’t i go to bed early enough?
didn’t i get enough sleep?
didn’t i wake up relatively awake
and go on a walk to get the blood rushig up
from my feet
to head and hands and otherwise?
why why why is this such a struggle today?