let me be an evening primroselet me turn my pink face upward in delight of morning sunlet me open wide a thousand supple legsgenerous in magiclet me spread them freely across the musky meadowsand let my yellow laughter inspire the clouds let me adore the caress of radiant butterfly wingslet me shiver under the sweet…
Glue. Tape. Batter. Dough. Honey.Paint sticks to a wall. Lipstick to a cheek. Chalk to a sidewalk.Mud. Wax. Clay. Sand. Moss.Moss sticks to everything. I see it on rocks, in trees. Sticks on the ground. Water is sticky. Oxygen, the third wheel, always looking for a mate. Relationships are sticky. Phlegm. Blood. Vomit. Shit.Death is sticky. It smells and…
I could sit here all morning trying to compose a more profound piece about the outdoors, about the trees and the smell of dust and the greenness of grass. But it's better to go outside. To let the light embrace me the way we are not supposed to embrace. It's best to offer our lips…
there is a prayer that i heard you say. you said, may god take your hearts and set them on fire. we burned your body after you left. your ashes rest on a piano in a room where we don't let the children play. when the buildings burn, like hearts, i think of your god…
if I fail to see the humanity of another person, then I am the problem. not them if I choose to step over the suffering of another person, then I am the thug. not them if I take everything from my life without thinking of those that lost theirs, then I am the looter. not…
start turning around stop pulling up short start finding what's found stop refusing support start silencing the phone stop taking the rap start becoming a drone stop licking the sap start casting the stone stop kissing the dream start burning the throne stop swimming upstream start tugging the leash stop painting the face start posing…
I can find 30 minutes. Just 30. I can find 30 minutes to take a breath. I can find 30 minutes to take a walk. Just 30. I can find 30 minutes to tell my daughter stories. And 30 minutes to watch my son play. I can find 30 minutes for listening to my partner.…
I must remember this. this connection to you, sweet baby this meeting of needs this providing for this soft suckling this sacred gaze I must remember it This season is closing, changing, you grow, independent of me and I of you the finality this end, I know, is not the end, but an end Goodbye…
From November 2006 "From a habitual low scorer" -- referring to my days as a slam poet. Enjoy! I'm happy where i am. and i'm ok with your confused look, how your head shook how you said i took you by surprise...and not in a good way. and why? why would i be happy with…
I'm good at picking boogers now. I'm good at wiping butts. I'm good at "fly-me-higher" now. I'm good at kissing cuts. I'm pretty good at bedtime songs. I draw an extra bubbly bath. I hope I'm good at guiding you as you traverse your path. I'm good at reading books, I recite them all by…
Story writer. Book blogger. Tea lover.
frightfully wondrous things happen here.
Lifes experiences in lesser words
Poetry & Prose...from Prompts
Learn Something New Daily, Teach What You Love
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
Putting ideas into words.
Author, Artist, Anthropologist
Pen to paper
Charly Slipp 