July 22, 2026

i’m writing so many words today
figuring things out in my brain i
didn’t know i needed figuring out

through poetry
and allegory
and just straight up facts

the coffee has hit the tastebuds
but i’ve written so fast
i think it hasn’t yet hit the bloodstream
or brain
quite yet

i didn’t know i didn’t know i didn’t know
i needed to process these particular things
but that’s why morning page poetry is so useful:
sometimes you sit down to write
and you just write about how much you’re
not writing
and sometimes you sit down to write
and discover secrets that you had hidden
from even
yourself

now to process the processing…

July 17, 2026

writing gibberish
writing balderdash
writing silliness and illegible things and nothing at all

writing not only to have written
but to feel the feeling of writing

writing to wake myself up and warm myself up for the day
that probably won’t include more writing
[but you never know…

you
never
know]

July 15, 2026

i write poetry
every
single
day
and i wish i wrote
other things
almost
every
day
too
and the easiest would be
storytelling
through
the poetry
but whenever i try to stray from facts
my whole body and soul
completely rejects it
until i cannot even fathom
putting anything out there
that is not 100%
verifiable

July 11, 2026

the writing this morning is coming along
slowly

i’m writing at a fine pace
but my brain is having a hard time catching up
and accepting the words i’m
placing down

i don’t feel slow
i feel
segmented

the fingertips will make a decision
and the brain won’t get involved
until the eyes finally look and read
and then the brain says
“hell no”
and we start all over again

with new words
new topics
new fingertips leading this time

how am i supposed to get morning poetry done
in these conditions?

June 27, 2026

writing before 7
writing before i’m fully awake
writing before breakfast
before coffee fully takes effect
before i know what my mind is doing this day
but i also know
later today
i’ll have no desire to write
or
the desire will be there
but the motivation
the actually action
will cease
so morning writing it is
with its
imperfections
and sleepy word choices
and distractability

at least i’m sitting here
writing

that’s more than i can say for
the rest of my day

June 25, 2026

i wish i could think of all the words i can’t think of right now

i wish i could recall all the vocabulary that’s in my head
but they’re stuck behind sticky mind-doors
where the mental wood has warped over the years of trauma
and protecting myself against trauma

the maze in my mind
simply to find
a fucking synonym
is atrocious

[i measure out how detrimental it is to the poem
if i should sit and think, and perhaps get lost in my own thoughts
or stop and look it up on the internet, and thereby lose the spell i cast
on my own poetry being sans-internet-influence,
or ask my kip
or set a reminder to go back and check
at a later time…

usually i set a reminder in the way of brackets around one word
and hope i can find the exact alternate
i thought i could think of
at the time of writing]

June 18, 2026

beautiful words
about ugly things
i wish i could write like my thoughts were cursive
calligraphy
a cartography of trauma set in gorgeous handwriting

but i’m a type-writer
printed and sure
un-erasable blank ink holding
my most ephemeral thoughts
not beautifully tragic
but solidly uncertain words
in the most permanent of ways of writings
we use today

[but nothing will survive the heat death of dominicus
right?]

June 17, 2026

it’s always so fascinating to me
watching my poetry
slide from one subject matter
[an introductory topic, if you will]
into the underlying
what-it’s-really-about
as if my conscious brain
*almost* gets it
but *always* needs to let the
subconscious brain take over
to get to the heart of the matter
[and if i try to control too much —
with form or function or rhyme or
look — the underlying message can’t come out;
or still does, but ruins whatever basis i had
laid out] and this pattern, of
almost-but-not-quite-knowing what my poetry will really
be containing, is like watching a movie of your own life
in front of you — you know what it was like behind your eyes
but from this third-person vantage, it’s all a little off
a little wild
a little unsettling in its
potential comfort,
but still entertaining
because of the new
perspective

that’s what my morning poetry is like
for me, most
mornings

June 13, 2026

a whole ass essay
in poem-form
that’s how i carve out what i’m thinking
what my soul has been saying
in non-words for decades
and i still don’t think the language is all there
nor the concepts fully categorized
but each poem is a start
an opening door to somewhere
or someone
with maybe a little more
understanding

[but only if i share it]