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I want to get creativity + mindfulness prompts and poems:


Samantha’s Daily Poem

September 1, 2014


I listen from upstairs
as your dad plays guitar
and you offer to write some lyrics

you tell him it will be a song
about a princess
who flies through the air
trying to catch a whale
so she can eat it

your dad tells you
it sounds like
a pretty nutty song

you agree
so you add a part
where she cooks
it first.

August 31, 2014


Concrete rooms
are safe
but lonely

she says

and the wisdom
lands in my lap
like a live thing

rolling around me
giddy and new

but like a back flip
explaining it
is not enough

so I tug a shape
of words
from my belly

but they are not
the right ones
they are pale and small

it is harder than I thought
to be vulnerable

perhaps it is not to dig
and share your weaknesses

but to dive
from the highest spot
yelling out
your wants.

August 30, 2014

Your affection for noses

There is something generous
in the way your little mouth opens
tongue reaching
to receive it

you are repelled by none of them
not the big ones
or the snotty ones
the oily or the old

there is a steadiness
to your choice
your eyes show no emotion
saying simply

this is a nose
and I am going to lick it

and the effect is the same
they blush
all of them
giggling at how sloopy it feels
at the unexpected tenderness
of the embrace.

August 29, 2014


You sit on the chair
eating cheese and watching
The Sound of Music
which I let you do
for longer than I’d planned
because you keep saying

I love this part

even though you haven’t
seen it before

and then you turn to me
with a funny look
and tell me

mama, my feet are starting to fizzle

which I almost tell you
are called pins and needles
and I almost tell you
it’s because you haven’t moved for ages

but I realize
that it’s exactly
what it feels like
so I rub them
while we watch
until the end.

August 28, 2014

Wolf spider

If they didn’t want us
to be scared of them
they shouldn’t have called them

wolf spiders

I know you can relate
as I sit here
stalked by an obstacle course
of overturned cups

each one harboring
a shadow

my tea is cold
and I am suspicious
and itchy

and then there is the one
that got away
feathery stain scuttling
under the couch

it was his lightness
that was the most harrowing
the way he seemed to crawl
without touching the ground

I can’t stop thinking about him
howling his revenge
in the dark.

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