papa wants a kiss
all papa wants
even when he pinches
even when he cares too much
when he makes a fool of himself
when he’s downright stupid
he can’t shut up
makes funny noises
pops his cheek
sings his little songs
and all pinches are forgotten
papa just wants a kiss
it’s all papa wants
I wrote my song a memory
I sang my heart a cry
and as my eyes remembered when
my heart remembered why
what do you get from a broken window
what’s that sound outside the barn
when will paranoia kill me
what’s that land beyond the farm
are those mountains filled with wonder
will I find a treasure there
must my life begin and end here
why’s this burden mine to bear
who said I must never go there
who’s the judge of what I do
there is a way of cheating karma
think I’ll try and find it soon
when my child is just a photo I can carry in my wallet
I’ll become just another father who couldn’t live at home
when my family’s just an album I keep upon my shelf
I’ll be just another cold son who left his nest behind
Charlie and Sam were the best of friends.
Charlie loved science and was always telling Sam about new and fun facts.
One day Charlie ran into the room where Sam was reading a book. Charlie said, “We have to watch the moon tonight!” Continue reading
In a quaint and quiet town, possibly not unlike the one in which you and your friends live, there was a quaint and quiet suburban street, and on that street there were many houses that looked the same.
Although all the houses were similar, every family that dwelt inside each house was very different from each other. Continue reading
Poésie sous les étoiles
TemptationOfWords
by Lize Bard
A Podcast About the Writing Life
Welcome to my world.
"Diving into a writers soul is discovering the broken treasure and beautiful mysteries that make you gasp for air."
Word-Experimentalist
"Eye Fly High"
WELCOME TO om3ssa's MUSIC FREAKISHNESS AT THE WORLD WIDE WEB
let the conversation begin
Paradigm Shift, Mindfulness, and Personal Empowerment
But Still Living The Life
food family & fun
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
Oh! Take a shit, read a story. - My Mother on flash fiction
"Die Kunst ist eine Tochter der Freiheit." - Friedrich Schiller
Trancension's VoiceBox
we are fish that play in a sea of light
Critical. Crazy. Catastrophic.
The wildest thoughts appear tamed when art is created out of them through writing.
My motherhood journey
Puking up Poetry, One Verse at a Time
The chronicles of a new father
