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Charly Slipp

Charly Slipp

and the ephemeral life

poetry

if i were a wildflower

May 1, 2022Categories poetryLeave a Comment on if i were a wildflower

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…

Continue reading ➞ if i were a wildflower

What is sticky?

February 10, 2021Categories poetryLeave a Comment on What is sticky?

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…

Continue reading ➞ What is sticky?

Go outside!

August 9, 2020Categories poetryLeave a Comment on Go outside!

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…

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to the ashes of my father

August 3, 2020August 2, 2020Categories poetryLeave a Comment on to the ashes of my father

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…

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Not them

June 13, 2020August 3, 2020Categories Black Lives Matter, poetryLeave a Comment on Not them

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…

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starting and stopping

May 15, 2020May 15, 2020Categories poetryLeave a Comment on starting and stopping

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…

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30 minutes

September 4, 2019September 5, 2019Categories poetryLeave a Comment on 30 minutes

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.…

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On Motherhood: Weaning

April 28, 2019April 28, 2019Categories motherhood, poetry1 Comment on On Motherhood: Weaning

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…

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Another poem from my past

March 29, 2019Categories creative writing, poetryLeave a Comment on Another poem from my past

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…

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Goodness

February 21, 2019February 24, 2019Categories creative writing, motherhood, poetryLeave a Comment on Goodness

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…

Continue reading ➞ Goodness

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from the past

  • May 2022
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  • November 2021
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  • October 2019
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  • December 2018
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  • November 2017
  • September 2017
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  • November 2016

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Sara Flower Kjeldsen Writes

Story writer. Book blogger. Tea lover.

rarasaur

frightfully wondrous things happen here.

Nora Writes

Lifes experiences in lesser words

Silver Birch Press

Poetry & Prose...from Prompts

Pick Me Up Poetry

The Teaching Factor

Learn Something New Daily, Teach What You Love

The Alchemist's Studio

Raku pottery, vases, and gifts

Meg Dowell Writes

Putting ideas into words.

Donna Dechen Birdwell

Author, Artist, Anthropologist

LUNA

Pen to paper

Charly Slipp
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