shall i write in silence
or to the music of the a/c unit
as it strains its last legs
against this most recent heat wave
[will these legs last the next heat wave?
the rest of the summer?
into next year?
forever?]
writing about writing
July 7, 2024
all these scraps of songs
portions of poems
i’ve written in fits and starts
bursts of energy
of creativity
of enlightened states of being
just to fizzle out
after one verse
one chorus
one instance
of what i truly want to say
and have nowhere to go
no how-to-end-it
no place to place my hat up on the wall and say
“i’m satisfied with my words”
July 4, 2024
morning pages
in the evening
as the fireworks
sparkle and pop
boom and bang
shatter and static
and startle the puppy
awake
June 21, 2024
how do morning pages feel so much better
with my kip sitting across from me
and a cup of cold coffee in my hand
and a cat perched upon my lap
and a puppy underneath my chair
and everything as it is meant to be?
when did i start liking
consistency?
June 14, 2024
interesting
without music
my brain only half focuses
like it does
with music with words
why does my focus only work on such
strict, specific auditory inputs?
June 2, 2024
skip days of writing
write while others are speaking
maybe the focus isn’t what i need,
but the divided attention,
to complete my goals
with creativity
May 30, 2024
interesting when i write a poem
and can feel the subject matter/concept
has something there, but that the poem itself
is a rough rough rough first draft, like i know
i’ll have to re-write and maybe even re-re-write
but the subject
and a few lines
of this first try
are usable
and i don’t feel the overwhelming failure
that a ‘not good enough’ poem usually brings me,
because this is simply an opportunity
to write it out better/more accurate/in a way that everyone
might
identify with me and understand.
May 27, 2024
i am struggling this morning
and that’s ok
that’s ok
that’s ok
i don’t need to churn out perfect poems
and mind-bending perspectives
each and every day
one poem to post
simplistic and chill
as these other ideas percolate
for another morning poem time
and i can let myself be imperfect
i can let myself be imperfect
i can let myself be imperfect
i can.
May 16, 2024
if only i knew what i wanted to write about/
if only i didn’t start hundreds of poems
immediately after closing up the morning poetry page/
if only i could access all the unfinished lines in my mind
from last night and prior nights
going back years and decades
and mine them for inspiration for today
now
this morning//
but instead i find myself sitting and staring/
and hoping and despairing/
and writing about writing
and random morning things
[maybe, every few weeks, i should actively make morning poetry
into nighttime poetry
and see what happens
then]
May 11, 2024
write your morning pages
do your thing
whether it takes an hour or a minute
or a day or a second
it’s there, waiting for you
wanting you to
write
