i did it
i performed my own poetry
i read it out loud
for people
and the people
felt
emotions
is this another aspect
of poetry as the opposing side
to prose’s analytic/logic basis?
is poetry’s purpose both
to come from a place of true emotionality
but also
to affect the reader/listener
empathetically?
and how do i come at this craft
from such a brainy/overthinking origin
just to affect those i’m reading to
so profoundly in the feels?
to write
or not to write
on this day
of performing
my own poetry
live
for the very first time
that sure is the question
~~~
can coffee
really do for my creativity
what it already does for my
comfort
and
awake-ness
and routine-building?
~~~
Oven Puppy
appears in reflections
all over our walk
and the puppy
(our puppy, Computer the Puppy)
wants to know:
is Oven Puppy nice?
how did Oven Puppy even get into our oven?
why does Oven Puppy always mimic Computer’s movements/
barks/
danger tail-poof?
how did Oven Puppy get inside the college windows at night?
and will Oven Puppy ever come out to play?
——————————————————————
The show is today, virtual, 2pm Eastern, and free
for tickets: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/321018253237
writing about nothing
is better than
writing
nothing
someday
i’d like to write
like the words were
rolling off my tongue-
tied to find the perfect
letter/syllable/sound/
the pound-ing in my ear
shifting from
pain and pressure
to a rhythm underneath
every
word
every
word
every
word
i say
nothing new to say
it’s all been done before
but maybe not by
exactly
me
does writing
get easier
the more i do it?
no.
does it at least get
more
intuitive?
no.
ok, but does it
seem like
it’s part of me,
like i could finally call myself
a ‘writer’
after writing
every single morning
since early 2020/
after finishing
a first draft
of a whole novel/
after keeping up
with this
daily poetry blog
for 470+ days?
kind of…?
my brain
is not retaining
a track this
morning
and i’m worrying
and resting
all at
once
but the flow
comes and goes
and i have no way to
figure out what
is happening
and where
it is
go–
ing
i can’t seem to follow
my poemideas
through
maybe a nap will do?
i’ve been writing
for
450 days
writing poetry
every morning
for
450 days
and this is still my
wake-up
this is still my
focus-time
this is still my
resistance
you know?
~~~
itching for adventure
one coming up soon
not soon enough?
~~~
the plan
is planned
for today
stick to it?
i may…
in the mornings
i am coming into my own
and i write
and i write
and i say
very little
during the day
i am observing all my own
and i think
and i think
and i write
very little
at night, before sleep
my mind analyzes
everything on its own
and i ponder
and i prepare
and i write masterpieces
in my mind
but i really write
not at all
and in the morning
it’s gone.
kipventures 