stop writing
for purpose
stop writing
for audience
stop writing
for rules
and structure
and rhyme scheme
and
just write
for expression
for emotion
for you
for you
[for me]
[i write for me
let that be what it will be]
writing
July 8, 2023
it’s wild
the nighttime writing
so different from the morning
but still so much the same
July 3, 2023
i have so much more i want to say
but my brain won’t focus itself in a way
that i can parse through
what i’ve said yet
and not
so i suppose i’ll wait until tomorrow
(or maybe just until this day
is through)
and try again.
June 20, 2023
stuck behind a computer keyboard
when i simply wish i could hook up some sort of cord
to my brain and let it leak poetry
more real/raw/strange/
honesty
might not consistently be
but it’s consistently
me
June 16, 2023
do you ever feel like
you just want to slough off your old skin
your old life
your old entire being
and start anew
in a new body
with a new brain
in a new situation
perhaps a whole new universe/
dimension/
something/
anything
i just feel
antsy
in this life
sometimes
(maybe that’s why
i am drawn towards
acting
reading
writing
the things we do
to imagine whole other lives
anew)
June 3, 2023
if only i could put all my hobbies
and helpfuls
into one basket of poetry—
the focus that comes from embroidery,
the loss of time and self
and feeling of fullness of art
of acting,
the power
and grace
of pulling one’s own body weight
up to an aerial apparatus
and seeing the whole room
spin
just this side of uncontrollably
around me,
and the expression
of my deepest most inner
mind
in a single poem
(or two)
(or three)
this is how you get to know me.
June 1, 2023
falling asleep
writing music in my mind
what a perfect metaphor
what an inspirational line
the rhyme scheme, incomparable
the tune passionate, flawless,
and i promise to remember it
when my eyes open
once more.
what was it again?
…lost it.
May 29, 2023
to write songs
tragic
manic
to write words
to sing
again
to write tunes
and times
and make it all rhyme
and why
can’t i
write
songs?
May 23, 2023
these mornings
these poems
they all slip together
to become something akin to
a giant gentle monster
overwhelming
overshadowing
but still cuddly as anything
(cuddly as me)
and i don’t know if this beast is one
i could ever tame
or if it needs to be free
wild
as uncontrollable
and uncontrolled
as i so desperately want to be
May 22, 2023
a big sad
an overwhelming wave
of the depression i know best—-
we should be friends by now;
i see them nearly every day,
but their company is always unwelcome
and puts a stop to any idea i had for my day
the worst part
of my particular depression/sadness/melancholia
is that it makes me feel
like all this writing
(which really does make me feel a little bit better)
isn’t
actually
worth
any
effort
at
all
chugging along
the energy it takes
to simply press a key
with a fingertip
expands
exponentially
and i start feeling
exhausted
the fits and starts and stops and hiccups
the pulsating of a pulse part of me wishes didn’t exist
the tears coming to eyes that somehow still can’t cry
the thousand-yard stare into the nothingness of existence
the loneliness felt even when i know so many feel this
and my best friend is sitting mere feet away from me
the vignette of darkness shading the corners of my vision
of my image for my life now
and this poem is taking too long
and has too many words saying nothing at all
all i want to write
is
depression is hard.
kipventures 