monsoon senses

To come to your monsoon senses 

is to smell the thunder as it pops like a blown fuse,

which awakens the lightning that is so close you can taste its charge on your tongue, 

while the rain gently leaks into your heart to soften your expectations, 

clearing your mind for the sight of the rejuvenating smell of the fresh water

that prepares the stillness so you can listen to the rainbow tiptoe its way across the sky.

I used to be an Economist

I used to be an economist, 

But then I got pissed. 

The things we learn in Econ 101,

Is not how this all needs to be done. 

It’s full of making an ass out of you and me,

It’s based on theories that aren’t reality. 

Sure, to simplify, to understand.

But it’s not even close - an invisible hand?

Bitch, please. That’s bullshit.

The truth is messy and doesn’t fit.

Not within your models, nor any equation,

We’re not numbers and to think so is just an evasion.

I am a heart-filled paradox. 

So don’t confine me to your damn box. 

I used to be an economist,

Class is dismissed.

What I wrote when I used to be an economist: https://www.lindseyellingson.com/body-of-work/academia

Maybe the Secret to Life is…

Maybe the secret to life is living like a reckless fool while telling everyone you’ve got good genes. And because you’re so reckless, you don’t even realize that your good genes have nothing to do with it. It’s your ability to be present and positive in every reckless breath. It’s inhaling your authenticity and exhaling that which no longer serves you, just like your grandma taught you.

Dope Rhymes: Origin Story

This book was given to me and it’s so fine,

Yoga teacher training, week nine.

Darren, the founder, likes to give for free.

Offered to the class & I said ‘pick me’.

I saw ‘Dope Rhymes’ on the cover

& said yes please, pass it over.

For just yesterday I thought,

It’s time to give writing another shot.

And so here you are,

This book that will take me far.

With so many blank pages to fill with hope

Of rhymes and stories so badass & dope.

Originally written: 12.27.2023

View original here: www.lindseyellingson.com/body-of-work/dope-rhymes

Case of the Mondays

The poem I planned for today,

Is really perfect for next Thursday.

Instead of sharing one I’ve already got, 

Here’s one from the press, steaming hot.

See, I have ideas with deadlines to meet. 

Hell, I even made a spreadsheet. 

But yesterday I gave myself a little nudge. 

And allowed my rigidity to budge. 

It made me present during my morning wander, 

Grateful that this shift allowed me to ponder. 

To contemplate life’s timing, 

And words to use so this is rhyming. 

Then I hear a Crow above it all, 

On a telephone pole. She had to make a call, 

To someone that is long distance, 

For in her heart is their only existence. 

You can hear it in her caw, 

The grief is still very raw. 

She must have lost them years ago, 

Because that's how it goes, you know?

Ask Siri: Darkness

Me: Hey Siri. What do you do when you want to spend the next few hours sitting in your zero gravity lawn chair in your backyard with the sun at your back while simultaneously sitting inside on your bolster with a bowl of snacks, slugging a seltzer, and working on your jigsaw puzzle? 

Siri: I am not sure I understand. 

Me: Thanks. That wasn’t very helpful. 

Siri: You’re welcome. 

Me: So, a few conditions have changed and I need to ask my question again. 

Siri: Ask away. I’ll try again. 

Me: What do you do when you want to spend the next few hours sitting in your zero gravity lawn chair in your backyard with the sun at your back while simultaneously be sitting inside on your bolster with a bowl of snacks, slugging a seltzer, and working on your jigsaw puzzle when you’re feeling snacky, you’re starting to have the light tapping of piss approaching, and your seltzer is nearly gone? 

Siri: It depends. 

Me: It depends on what? 

Siri: The position of the sun. 

Me: Well, that’s a question I’d probably ask you. 

Siri: I cannot see if it’s shining or set, so I couldn’t tell you. 

Me: Doesn’t a weather app tell you the time of the sunsets? 

Siri: Yes, but it doesn’t tell me when it’s that feeling that as the sunsets, it exudes this sense of being on the brink of something fucking huge and this passionate tension fills the air where all the colors go towards it until that moment where the very next blink of your eye, they’ve become one beautiful color:

Darkness. 

Siri: It doesn’t tell you that. You say that when I’m “not listening”.

An Ode to My Favorite Number

Oh, my sweet Nine,

You’re so damn fine.

Nine times two,

It’s 18, my boo.

Then one + eight,

It’s Nine, don’t hate.

Wanna try another?

Ooh, this one is a real mother…

9 times 1,234 is going to be

11,106 for me.

1 + 1 + 1 + 0 + 6 = the fun never ends,

And that is the best number ever, my friends.

Sure, eight times eight can fall on the floor,

And when you pick it up, it’ll say 64.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 are all a big zero,

Because it’s 9 that shines as the true hero.

Be bold. Give it a shot. For this fun isn’t all mine,

Just don’t subtract or divide, both in life or with Nine.

Auspicious Intuition: Intro

Auspicious Intuition, but why?

And if I needed to explain: it’s my AI.

Nothing artificial to see here,

Just authentic human stuff.

Full of imperfections, mistakes,

empathy, and vulnerability.

An idea, a promise, a follow through,

A creative experience for creativity’s sake.

Come on in, splash around.

Let’s open up and be wild and free.