I believe you will always be someone new,
you will always be you
simply by wherever you're taken
The calm after the storm
You are the aftermath
The avalanche
The evidence of a committed crime
You are the pupil of this world
The terrene I wish to be
A collaboration of sites worth reaching
and whatever precipice you're up against
has nothing on resiliency.
~Tina Meeks
Sometimes I think it makes more sense
to move backwards.
I don't know if that'd be slowing down
or just going elsewhere with
different motivation.
I'm motivated to go at my own pace
and pay attention to the framed nostalgia
that mattered enough to become outlined.
~Tina Meeks
**Isn't it such a good feeling to finish a notebook and move on to the next? A little cathartic but also a little sad to be leaving something behind? Well, I always save the last few pages of my notebooks to do a small self reflection on my journey through that book, and in a way, to thank the book for holding my thoughts and feelings. Sentimental value, so to speak. The following is an entry on the last 3 pages of a book I just finished. And now, on to the next...**
And to conclude this book...
This book was taken through a wild fluctuation of mental stability challenged times. Somewhat painstaking paradigm of mandated self-preservation in isolation.
I do feel that there has been growth through this book. It does hold unique feelings that may have been touched on in the past, but more in depth now. This book also holds events that took place and new arrivals to my life, like people.
Musical influences, places, words. While I refuse to allow a pandemic to rule a tone over my life, I do acknowledge that it has played a role on my mental state and the amount of friendly interactions I've been holding, as well as places I've been to more recently.
In order to maintain some level of sanity in a world that has shifted drastically and oddly, remaining calm, having light structure, and forgiveness of the self has helped a lot. I have found a new sense of community this time around, and I have, in a way, strengthened my poetic drive, at the same time as challenging it.
This has also been a time where I have accessed a side of myself that has seen little light before. Being mixed is something I've constantly been aware of but feel it differently now, and want to embrace it, rather than feel like I'm tolerating it. Happy to be everything that I am and want to share these things.
With that, thank you for holding onto my deepest thoughts and hidden aggressions, fears, and pleasures. Without you, I'd be close to nothing.
~Tina Meeks
I think it's important to preserve space for creativity.
Gangway!
Allow the mind to be taken into a place
that is not necessarily physical,
but it prevails on another level,
and sometimes this place which we speak of, is spoken
and unheard of.
Or wished to be heard through another voice,
because ones own is no good.
The idea can't come across in the same tone
or manner that we wish.
At any rate,
I hope every single person has at least
one place that is their own and safe.
Keep it to yourself or express the mind
and explain it's value that plasters your hands
or goosebumps the body.
There is no shame in pleasure,
and spill guilt over something else.
This time and in this place is sacred
and needs to be there when it makes sense
and feels so right.
Inspiration is transformative and comes to light
in life around us all.
Inspiration hurts, too.
It sometimes hurts like a one time lightning strike;
a one in a million fulgurite.
For me, there's a whole dimension
of
falling
words
trying to find me fast enough
to create a sense of self and meaning
that I only sometimes pay my respects to.
I try to manipulate compilations of distorted
other humans that I hide in between
to protect myself from the rain
of emotional distress and desire,
and I wonder what that means to other people.
What would my mother say about this?
This other poet I just met- how might they interpret that?
My third grade best friend,
do they remember my adolescent mind,
and is any piece of it tarnish-free and still here?
I don't know so much.
At a wooden desk,
my arms press into the sealed piece of nature,
and this is a space that feels safe enough
for me to let down a layer of defense
against some masses and release
the tension that's collected through time,
just waiting like bubbles to be popped.
It's a good time right now to allow it out,
not tomorrow at two O'clock
or next Monday when I can squeeze it in.
It's time when it hits
and if I forget that,
it's a moment I didn't let find me.
~Tina Meeks
Courageously grabbing bits and pieces
from his book of lessons.
Softly spoken theatrical waves in silent abundance.
Thoughtfully gathered words
interpreted into his own world.
Swaying like tall dandelions,
both of us feel "less human".
He stands with understanding the unspoken.
~Tina Meeks
This synchronicity is a dance.
We are the swirls of a snails protection
and the opposite of frantic
but an impressive connection,
and you are imbedded in me.
You're intriguing.
I find you fascinating,
which finds me curious.
~Tina Meeks
Maybe you're a sore spot.
Not a bruise
but a tender place
that whenever stoked like a fire,
I remember you're there- you were there.
Not hiding behind a combination padlock.
An expression of an original Jackson Pollock
Head cocked
You're flexed
I'm perplexed
and stretched
out and impressed
that this entangled Tango dance
in my mind can prolong itself
and withstand dilution after 5 years of length.
What is even happening anymore?
Stained emotions of my own, before me.
Consistently even.
Irrationally
and simple fascination.
~Tina Meeks
