wrote
but didn’t post
how unlike me—
—how like me
(though who can say but me)
wrote
but didn’t post
how unlike me—
—how like me
(though who can say but me)
i think it’s funny
how every morning
i sit down to write my poetry
and [almost] every morning
as i sit
i think
to myself
“man, i am not feeling the poetry today”
but i still write
at least one
(because that was my promise
to myself)
and think about picking an older poem
to post
but then i write
and write
and write and write and write
and have a poem (or three)
to post
plus a few
for a later need
plus maybe one or two
for warmup and whatnot
and how
did i become
the person
who just churns out words
again
and again
and again
ad nauseam
share with the world
your not-so-polished words
your poetry-that-maybe-could-use-some-revising
your writing
without rewriting
and see what the world
says
(that’s the whole point of this poetry blog)
i have poems
and concepts
rushing out of me
today
and none of them
are fit
to post
(guess i gotta look at the past)
wanting to go on adventure
also
wanting to just stay home
the light shining through the vines
finds
sparkles in the dew drops
or are they rain spots
or is it already frost
thought
i’d write about mundane things
thought
i’d write about tech timings
thought
i’d poem about contemplation
but what i needed
to write about
was
nonsense
(apparently)
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
i wonder
how people
read my ramblings
do they wonder
about my inside jokes
like puppy jail
and global panini
do they put things together
via contextual clues
or do they simply skim
until the words
make sense
again
late night writing
(not that late)
(is it even night?)
(damn daylight savings)
(at least i am writing)
~~~
what if
i let myself
really
trust
in the universe
and let
the rest
go?
~~~
there is an adage
in auditioning
in acting in general
to ‘find the love’
in any scene
if it seems
about money
or revenge
or procedure
or humor
or anything
or nothing
something
to make it
more interesting
more alive
find
the love
in life
in living
in the universe
find
the love
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
interesting
to experiment
with novel writing
as poetry
as the past