I always wanted to know how to play the guitar piano and drums. I played the clarinet for a few years but things that use my mouth never rested in my me. I need to use my hands. Think I always will.
I recite my poems out loud after I finish them and before I do readings. A practice I just picked up about a year ago. Figured I was a terrible orator. Recorded them a few times as well. But my voice sounds awful to me. People have called me in the past so I’ll talk to them until they fall asleep. Not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. Back to the hands.
Someone told me that they have broken the same hand at least five times in their life. I don’t think I’ve broken that many hearts. But my mother told me when I was younger I would break a lot of them. I did break a hand mirror 4 years ago. Swore I broke my arm when I was 13. My moms worked a temp job and my pops just started his new job. I prayed on it and went to put my Bible away and noticed it barely hurt anymore. One reason it travels with me. One reason in the bed most nights.
A few nights ago I was startled awoke thinking someone was laying next to me. Not sure who. Just pictured a silhouette. Grey. Kind of like the creatures in Ghost that carried Tony Goldwyn away. There was nobody there. I instantly went back to sleep. I had a daydream that felt like a night dream that someone rubbed my toe waved smiled and sat down next to me. I looked up. Same scenario. I keep thinking I hear people upstairs moving around but I’m sure I saw that guy move out. So maybe I’m delusional now. Or maybe I’m always dreaming. Or maybe poetry has me living too much in my imagination.
I often see people who I know don’t live in Chicago in Chicago. Who I know don’t live in the US in Chicago. And I know I’m not crazy and the piano keys don’t have knuckles but imagine if they wanted to strike back they then. They’re black and white. They make grey.
I keep writing list poems. Lyrics and leaping don’t want to agree with me. They just come out as random. Or as list. I read this in Lamar’s manuscript “God said let there be irony & there was I”
More poetry rejections recently submishmash tells you big red letters “Declined.”
This tarot card reader told me everything is leading me toward Ra or the Sun. Said I’m doing too much my energy’s low and the path I’m taking is going to weave. It was kind of like reading a horoscope in the newspaper. But I did write poem about Ra I should revise. I should find my basketball poem too.
There was a black bear in Liberty Park where I grew up at recently. I’m not sure if he rolled down any hills. I’d like have seen it if he did. I think that’s what’s wrong with this city. Too flat. No hills. The landscape lacks character. There is no falling down here. No time to catch yourself. You just fall.
This is a beautiful song (I hate the word beautiful) it’s so depressing. She could just hum this and make it depressing. There’s some irony. Beauty is depressing.