can i just
pick up
where a poem left off?
~~~
and continue the poetry
will it still be magical?
will it still be me?
~~~
i mean, probably
it has to be
because it is still me
who’s writing all the words
right?
writing poetry
April 28, 2025
i don’t actually know what it means
to be
a great writer
a great poet
i’m just sitting here
at my messy dinner table
early in the morning
writing whatever comes to mind
as a way to encourage myself
to deal with the day
that is coming towards me
at breakneck speed
maybe,
when you’re in your ‘fighting a [seemingly] losing war
against fascism with the best tool you have —
kindness’ era
you’ll understand
~~~
i feel like this kind of morning
and this kind of writing
is the reason i started this challenge to begin with
i feel more awake
more aware
more ready to start my day
though i still need to edit and pick and send in the audition
i feel so much more prepared for it
now
~~~
“you look like such a writer!”
of my big sweater
comfy tee
glasses
bun
and coffee in hand
and i do, don’t i?
i do…
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?]
March 16, 2025
one of the best poems i ever read
was a poem that insisted
it was not
a poem
and if that’s not a metaphor for something
then i’m not some kind of a poet
March 10, 2025
i wish i saw through poet’s eyes
the beauty of the earth at all times —
but instead i see the pain and despair
and try to beautify that
with impassioned speeches/
or try to find the tiniest spec
of lovely
in a day full of pain/
and make the mundane
beautiful again
though it doesn’t really feel like
poetry
to me
without grand sunsets
or allegories of bees and flowers,
i’m over here trying —
making beauty out of angst
and bubble gum
January 21, 2025
just write through
the pain and
the loss and
the lost feelings and
the sleepiness and
the exhaustion and
the boredom and
the mundanity and
the distractions and
the battles and
the fight and
when the fight leaves us
for an hour or a day or a year
or so
we can write ourselves
back into the fight
if it means enough to us
[and yes, it means enough
to me]
September 15, 2024
really
poetry can be whatever we make of it
whatever we want it
to be
but
i’ve spent so much time
trying to get everything
“right”
in other aspects of art and life
how do i ever make anything
that is just only solely
mine?
September 10, 2024
interesting
interesting
i wrote but i didn’t post
yesterday
i wonder what that means
i wonder what that means
and the puppy just freaked out and boof-howled
but she hadn’t done that with Kip not around
i wonder what that means
and the cat has been perching on my lap
far more in the last couple of weeks
than since we lost Louka
i think i might know what that means
and additionally
i feel like
my writing has gotten
so
much
worse
lately
i wonder
what
that
means
April 30, 2024
the drive to write is strong —
but what to write about
never seems to come along —
like i’m sitting at a type-writer
or a pen and paper notebook
and i am hovering above what
could very well be brilliant
imagery/alliteration/metaphor
and simile and allegory all
stuck together, but instead my
pen/finger tip just shudders,
the ache of keeping it up
too long as i wait, the heaviness
of the potential i feel in my
body mind and soul too much
too much for one little
writing utensil/blank screen
to hold, so instead i write
about nothing, i write about
wanting to write, i write over
and over again meta poems that
never seem to come to any sort
of fruition or resolution or
conclusion, and i continue
to write and write and write
and here i am again…
January 17, 2024
the problem with writing
in a different format
[essay and story
i.e. two different prose types]
for so many days
is
it makes
my poetry feel
somehow
Wrong —
maybe less than
maybe too much
maybe just off
from what i’m now used to
but it all just feels so
Wrong
now
kipventures 