sappy poems
for new york city bakeries
of a spouse still sitting at home without me
because they’re so good at caring for our
little broken puppy
and i’m off playing as an artiste
the way i’d hoped to be
writing about poetry
January 19, 2023
my mind fills with stories
my eyes close and see words
language was always about translation
from thoughts to forms others understood
but here in this moment
when opportunity meets momentum
only morning pages
will ever
get done
~~~
but is that
so bad
a thing?
~~~
i know i could write prose in poetry
i know i could tell a story esoterically
but my words still only seem fit
to express the feelings
in my own life
how could i tell another’s?
January 7, 2023
the whole concept of writing
right now
feels egregious
to me
to sit in solemn silence
and ponder grand plans
tiny details
and all between
and simply translate them
to characters in words upon a screen
i don’t know why i
can go from sixty to zero
from brain chattering every day
so much to do, so much more to say
all the previous yesterdays
and then today
be struck
stuck
stagnant
and frustrated
by the whole concept of language
such is the life
and times
and minds
of writers?
December 23, 2022
how does one get
better
at poetry?
is it all about alliterations
and internal rhyme
and the thousands of metaphors
that have already been primed
to be shared, to be taken, to be overused
to the point of cliche
to say i want to be a poet
is not to mean i want to spoon-feed you stanzas of
love
as a beautiful weed
or churn out odes to
the moon
(though our lunar satellite is pretty cool)
but i digress
i must confess
my digression into this poem was nothing more than a question
not a contemplation of how i am the best
(my goodness, i know i’m not the best)
but i want to know—
for the poems that i read
and hear
that flow
and hit me right here
(that’s my heart, in case you aren’t watching)
they speak of the human condition
universal language
of love, joy, pain, suffering
maybe one day i could write
as well as
Amanda Gorman
Angel Nafis
Staceyann Chin
Audre Lorde
(hah
i remember a time the only poets i knew
were crusty old men
and look at me now,
just off the top of my head
badass black femme poets whom i’ve read
rather recently
and i want to imbibe more
more cultures
more languages
more experiences
because—
and here it is
the point i was trying to make—
i think
to be a better poet
you must have experiences
life experiences
living
breathing
interacting with people
experiencing all this world has to offer
this universe
and so
in conclusion
i guess i should go
live
more?
)
December 16, 2022
i have
so many
so much
works
words
on the page
inside the screen
swimming through my head
it’s a wonder
i haven’t lost
all sense
and sensibility
awareness
and awakeness
sanity
and sanitary
self-hood
selfishness
would be writing
only about me
(oops)
but i guess
it’s better
than not having art
around
everywhere
right?
December 15, 2022
this poetry blog
has become my respite
my sanctuary
from my own perfectionism
and putting too much pressure on myself
in most (if not all other) things
but how do i take the lessons learned
here
and bring them with me
everywhere?
November 19, 2022
i’ve been unintentionally rhyming
for a little while now
and i don’t know
how
i feel about it.
~~~
more words
more feelings
more emotions
more muck
to get out of my system
and out of my brain
to stream through the eyes/fingertips
onto a screen
where words seem so foreign
when writing from the heart
but here i am
here i go
here i
start
~~~
i’ve got good stuff
lately
and again
i don’t know how
i feel about
it
November 10, 2022
trying to get back
into the regular swing of things
but not knowing
if the test
will show
positive or negative
and whether i should really
be getting back
into the regular swing of things
or not
November 7, 2022
interesting
to experiment
with novel writing
as poetry
as the past
October 26, 2022
what good
comes from
writing
about writing?
writing
about poetry?
writing
about waiting
and wanting
to write
so well?