For tree Sense optional But keep going Stand your ground You look strong Juggler, tricks, cycle Is it sweet, dessert putrid They won’t get it, shame I’ll never be maimed Fantasy books, they want you to look And empathize, no eyes just ear hustled What a weird hustle, but there’s an audience Contrived boldness is…
Tag: poetry
Collect
Nothing to force Move with tundra temper There’s already the shape From that and your chair take There is on Road, no maze
Clouds and Notes and Stages
Fearless but contained Sight sharper, grateful, sky The music in everything Showing me which rooms Triangles, hexagon, then unnamed There’s nothing to measure Only flight now
Reciting in the car on the drive over this morning.
Remember some of it, but not writing it yet. Seeing if it sticks. Back from run. 7+ miles!! Feel amazing, and invincible. Close call earlier, with my review. Scheduled for tomorrow, not today. Relief, only after checking in with my VP could I run. He laughed at me, we laughed concertedly, he praised me for…
Trying to write more poetry. And honestly….
Only that. In verse. No long paragraphs and no conventional structure. What’s tattooed on both forearms?? VERSE. No prose. So… Here I fly, new throws, boat rowed. 15:39 and needed new modes. From the stage, the theatre that for some reason refuses to halt, or breathe, so that needs to be me— Survivalist, my attention…
10-2-25
In office. 09:51. Quiet. Meeting with VP at 11:00. Running today without any excuses or delays, or no-show from me on pavement. Running today, no doubt. 5k to 5 miles, somewhere in there. Going slow. Distance is the goal so just telling myself, “FIVE MILES, you’re doing five miles.” 10:44, meeting in a bit, no…
9-30-25
Booked event for sales team, for next month. Now back to scribbling ideas on Key Behaviors Project, and the ‘Assessment Hub’, as I call it. Peaceful day, listening to a LoFi playlist meant for studying, and focus. It called for rain, but now…. Wanting another latte, with the disappointment of no rain. Might treat the…
notes
“So alive and electric and fearless today, babe…” I just wrote the Nurse. And I am. Can’t hold it in place, can’t bottle it. Maybe it’s the coffee, maybe it’s simply being here, present, anchored in this shifting routine I’ve carved out inside ’50—what we call this building. 1:36 PM. So quiet it feels staged,…
In office a little late but I’m catching up. Meetings all day.
Singularizing, simplifying. Thinking of my brother Chris’ stories and explanations of how he built his business. The cowering space, the cafe, and other. I see what I’m doing wrong. Or maybe not wrong, but what I could improve. Again, simplifying. Lunch comes and goes, and I’m standing at the desk with two of my three…
Back from a day long and stuffed with baseball hours. Kids relaxing, me as well. Deserved, so well-deserved.
How I am with myself, the inward scribbles and talk, how it forms and the resulting tangibles. Wish I could spend the day tomorrow in content production mode, but no. Office. Meetings. And more meetings. All the internet talk. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but this Professor Mikey drawing board is electric and…
Writing this morning and new mind about me. Being a champion, fighter, just accepting the visions I have as real.
Traveling the world with the Nurse, writing a book in this condo and keeping this condo as just that – a Windsor Writing Station. Much the same the new train station down the street has become realize by Windsor’s town. 9:24 AM… kids playing outside, me shredding some papers as I more and more hate…
!!!!!!!!
Repeat, repeat…. The day’s call.