sophie13 - Hello Poetry

My niece is sat opposite me My niece is in possession of paint And a paintbrush And I’ve surrendered my hands to her. That tickles! My face scrunches Paint properly plastered The newspaper in front of us her dad had put down for her she swaps for plain I wiggle the digits on my Upward facing palms. Now flip! Like this? She nods And splat SPLAT! The One That Married Into This Via me Comes in from the kitchen. I rise from my cross-legend position And pat his cheek as we meet in the doorway Then I rest my hand on his shoulder, Trying to gaze lovingly, As opposed to smirking. He doesn’t notice the paint Because it’s warm And maybe I’ve just got clammier hands than usual. I go to wash my hands off. Your turn! Le artiste demands My turn? Everybody turn! Great-aunties groan. Alright then. SPLAT! The One That Married Into This Touches a reassuring Painted Palm To just below my back. So ordinary We only notice the paint prints As we graze the hall mirror As we start the 30 minute process Of saying goodbye Walking art He whispers As we walk out the door

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Jul 29, 2019

Jul 29, 2019 at 10:22 AM UTC

Splat!

My niece is sat opposite me My niece is in possession of paint And a paintbrush And I’ve surrendered my hands to her. That tickles! My face scrunches Paint properly plastered The newspaper in front of us her dad had put down for her she swaps for plain I wiggle the digits on my Upward facing palms. Now flip! Like this? She nods And splat SPLAT! The One That Married Into This Via me Comes in from the kitchen. I rise from my cross-legend position And pat his cheek as we meet in the doorway Then I rest my hand on his shoulder, Trying to gaze lovingly, As opposed to smirking. He doesn’t notice the paint Because it’s warm And maybe I’ve just got clammier hands than usual. I go to wash my hands off. Your turn! Le artiste demands My turn? Everybody turn! Great-aunties groan. Alright then. SPLAT! The One That Married Into This Touches a reassuring Painted Palm To just below my back. So ordinary We only notice the paint prints As we graze the hall mirror As we start the 30 minute process Of saying goodbye Walking art He whispers As we walk out the door

47

The smug feeling I felt clicking 'write' To submit this poem

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May 26, 2018

May 26, 2018 at 8:53 AM UTC

Starting Again

The smug feeling I felt clicking 'write' To submit this poem

2

Time turns flames to embers Especially after a taster session with Death

0

Oct 4, 2014

Oct 4, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC

Drinks with Death

Time turns flames to embers Especially after a taster session with Death

2

When I was young, Safety was my mother's chest, To listen to her heart, And feel her warmth, Just like she did me. Now that I have grown, Though to her I'm still her girl, I'm your girl too. And you share me. Now I sit and cry about a bad day at school, Listening to your heartbeat, Just like mum's. The repetition is calming - Just like it was. I love you just as much I'd go above and beyond, To sit with you every night, Feel your breath on my cheek, And take in your scent Of liquorice and soap.

0

Sep 4, 2014

Sep 4, 2014 at 2:53 PM UTC

Safety

When I was young, Safety was my mother's chest, To listen to her heart, And feel her warmth, Just like she did me. Now that I have grown, Though to her I'm still her girl, I'm your girl too. And you share me. Now I sit and cry about a bad day at school, Listening to your heartbeat, Just like mum's. The repetition is calming - Just like it was. I love you just as much I'd go above and beyond, To sit with you every night, Feel your breath on my cheek, And take in your scent Of liquorice and soap.

20