ska
jazz
celebratory
kind of morning
puppies playing
puppies smiling
puppies allowed to be puppies once more
writing to music
August 7, 2023
rain pouring/
pounding
on our little roof,
waking me up
long before the sound
of our collective alarms,
but lulling me into
a false sense of security
that i would be able to
fall gently asleep
once more
instead the internet/
and uneven droplets/
and awkward room temperature/
and brightness sneaking in
from a gentle sunrise
outside
kept me up since 5
and now
at 8:30
i’m downing this coffee
just to stay
alive
(but at least the weather is as spooky as our morning music)
August 1, 2023
silly covers
of popular music
set to epic orchestration
and interesting rhythmic interpretation —
a perfect way to start
this first august morning
June 23, 2023
hungry
worried
early
morning
mundane and
not so mundane
worried
so worried
still hungry
~~~
calm morning
of stress
wanting
less
of the drama that comes from
this little broken puppy pup
but still
we’d rather
have her
all torn ligaments
and fractured bones
and menacing hassles
than not
~~~
it’s so strange to hear
simple
calm
piano
in the morning
i’m used to
acid jazz
and electronic house
and more chaotic sounds
to wake up to
but the calm simplicity
seems to be helping me
find more in my poetry
(and harmonizes well with a sighing puppy)
October 17, 2022
not feeling
anything
(writing
listing
poetry-ing)
was i this
lost
this time
last
year?
~~~
trying
to writing
with songs with words
we’ll see how this goes
~~~
was music all i needed
for me to feel like
this is a real morning???
August 17, 2022
chill morning
chill music
moving info
both satisfying
and
frustrating
at the same time
[when/will it ever end?]
~~~
but my butt
hurts
when i sit in chairs
like a normal human
/
when i try to sit in chairs
like a normal human
and my body instinctively inclines itself
further and further leftwards
until my [right] butt hurts more
than it initially did
so i should just start
sitting
like the queer that i am
to avoid
further
injury
~~~
writing
in fits
and starts
(or starts
and starts
and i wonder where the fits
fit in with
this chill morning
of mine)
August 12, 2022
the ebb
and flow
of the piano
immerses itself
into my imagination
and i tilt with it
ship-like
atop the water
of the melody
and my whole being
is there too
heart and soul and corporal form
body mind and spirit
head to heart to body
everything
(classical is classic for a reason)
July 10, 2021
concentrate first on what you’re writing
don’t think about how to perform it
nor what people are going to think of it
nor what people will say to you
sunday will arrive far sooner than you expect,
why make it arrive earlier
by anticipating everything that will happen?
(maybe that’s just how my brain works?)
(but it seems very, very unhelpful)
~~~
i don’t know why
french café music
calms me so
but it sure does
so here it plays
morning after morning
picking up a few more words every dawn
surprising myself by how much i understand
hoping one day to catch it all.
~~~
am i ever going to attack
full, epic, long-form, big damn poetry
again?
(i suppose i just did,
what with the monologue assignment
i just wrote slam poetry for,
and i suppose i shouldn’t
count out
the big poems
sitting in this giant document
just waiting for revisions
and posting)
but it confuses me,
this ebb and flow of poetry
of how some days words slip and flow
and some days i must pull and pull and pull
and what that all means for myself
and me
and my creativity…
kipventures 