Made this poem from my senryu/microjournal habit
The creative prompt shared by Naviar Records led me to revisit a process from previous years.
I sampled my daily writing practise, then quickly recorded a reading to go with a piece of music.
The words are below, since you can't really hear them:
Clear a space for truth
put demons on the table
we all have monsters
The familiar
our lived experiences
we never escape
Preoccupation
knowing unmentionables
hiding maligned forms
In these descriptions
old paraphernalia
wrestling for new life
Anchored ideas
peppered onto bathroom walls
I read the comments
My steps unbalanced
finding a new way forward
these steep learning curves
Personal essays
images that resonate
using metaphors
It leaves me beaten
along branches of wisdom
stick with what I know
Dulled by the moment
anything is possible
love profound boredom
Title on the door
master procrastinator
holds me to account
I don’t play tennis
when the ball is in my court
I’m hitting it back
The role I’ve taken
allowed to fully occupy
where I’m meant to be
Sometimes giving up
letting loose parts of myself
and it’s positive
I’ve backed myself in
wet paint around the corners
I’ll spend some time here
A love of the thing
not really a career
expert of nothing
Enjoy the journey
it’s different for everyone
like so much guidance
put demons on the table
we all have monsters
The familiar
our lived experiences
we never escape
Preoccupation
knowing unmentionables
hiding maligned forms
In these descriptions
old paraphernalia
wrestling for new life
Anchored ideas
peppered onto bathroom walls
I read the comments
My steps unbalanced
finding a new way forward
these steep learning curves
Personal essays
images that resonate
using metaphors
It leaves me beaten
along branches of wisdom
stick with what I know
Dulled by the moment
anything is possible
love profound boredom
Title on the door
master procrastinator
holds me to account
I don’t play tennis
when the ball is in my court
I’m hitting it back
The role I’ve taken
allowed to fully occupy
where I’m meant to be
Sometimes giving up
letting loose parts of myself
and it’s positive
I’ve backed myself in
wet paint around the corners
I’ll spend some time here
A love of the thing
not really a career
expert of nothing
Enjoy the journey
it’s different for everyone
like so much guidance
interpretations vary
so I guess words will travel
Robust narratives
explaining our lives away
it’s not magical
Without little words
sensibly made into thoughts
would I know myself
Finding small spaces
unused outlooks on the day
to make a window
My opacity
hiding in the everyday
beliefs are porous
We can save those gifts
people don't want those insights
lies are easier
We hold opinions
underestimate vastly
how truths destroy us
That crushing feeling
to hold a sensitive heart
wishing it weren’t mine
Something in my chest
resonates with emotion
reciting your words
It’s the easy thing
seeing only what I know
can you really blame me?
A slippery slope
I can go down a wormhole
lose myself a while
These are summaries
so when revisiting them
I'll find my own words
Thinking of my poems
as conversation partners
go let them mingle
We sometimes struggle
as our own brand of magic
fails to charm ourselves
Sometimes I’ll look back
some will say I’m different
but it’s just I’ve grown
Through a world of sound
the only filter I have
my discerning ear
Scanning the dial
your radio call signal
I’m the antenna
so I guess words will travel
Robust narratives
explaining our lives away
it’s not magical
Without little words
sensibly made into thoughts
would I know myself
Finding small spaces
unused outlooks on the day
to make a window
My opacity
hiding in the everyday
beliefs are porous
We can save those gifts
people don't want those insights
lies are easier
We hold opinions
underestimate vastly
how truths destroy us
That crushing feeling
to hold a sensitive heart
wishing it weren’t mine
Something in my chest
resonates with emotion
reciting your words
It’s the easy thing
seeing only what I know
can you really blame me?
A slippery slope
I can go down a wormhole
lose myself a while
These are summaries
so when revisiting them
I'll find my own words
Thinking of my poems
as conversation partners
go let them mingle
We sometimes struggle
as our own brand of magic
fails to charm ourselves
Sometimes I’ll look back
some will say I’m different
but it’s just I’ve grown
Through a world of sound
the only filter I have
my discerning ear
Scanning the dial
your radio call signal
I’m the antenna
It seems obvious
that lozenge rhymes with orange
but maybe that’s me
that lozenge rhymes with orange
but maybe that’s me
