Oh Gawd of Funk
@slipofmytongue.bsky.social
I don't follow people, I set traps for them and wait.
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I am the bottle
inside are my words
I stand on a beach
if I give in to the tides pull
in my desire to be heard
and let go fears that run deep
if I cast myself into the sea
will I float?
or will I sink?
I am the bottle
my words are now yours
you stand on a beach
the answer
is no longer up to me
inside are my words
I stand on a beach
if I give in to the tides pull
in my desire to be heard
and let go fears that run deep
if I cast myself into the sea
will I float?
or will I sink?
I am the bottle
my words are now yours
you stand on a beach
the answer
is no longer up to me
May 21, 2025 at 4:21 PM
I am the bottle
inside are my words
I stand on a beach
if I give in to the tides pull
in my desire to be heard
and let go fears that run deep
if I cast myself into the sea
will I float?
or will I sink?
I am the bottle
my words are now yours
you stand on a beach
the answer
is no longer up to me
inside are my words
I stand on a beach
if I give in to the tides pull
in my desire to be heard
and let go fears that run deep
if I cast myself into the sea
will I float?
or will I sink?
I am the bottle
my words are now yours
you stand on a beach
the answer
is no longer up to me
Though wild flowers now bloom through them, I can still recall the beauty of long fallen leaves. And it reminds me that, for some, distant autumn is a season that might never return again, for spring is sometimes an end, rather than a beginning.
April 23, 2025 at 12:08 AM
Though wild flowers now bloom through them, I can still recall the beauty of long fallen leaves. And it reminds me that, for some, distant autumn is a season that might never return again, for spring is sometimes an end, rather than a beginning.
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” ~ John Muir
Happy Birthday to my muse and protector of all things wild. Within your words and in those places you helped preserve, I will always feel inspired.
Happy Birthday to my muse and protector of all things wild. Within your words and in those places you helped preserve, I will always feel inspired.
April 21, 2025 at 9:31 PM
“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” ~ John Muir
Happy Birthday to my muse and protector of all things wild. Within your words and in those places you helped preserve, I will always feel inspired.
Happy Birthday to my muse and protector of all things wild. Within your words and in those places you helped preserve, I will always feel inspired.
No cheating. Your last saved celebrity pic is your therapist.
April 18, 2025 at 2:13 PM
No cheating. Your last saved celebrity pic is your therapist.
I walked to the entrance of Angkor Wat at 4 am to see the sunrise, but hundreds were gathered already to catch the reflection off the ponds that grace the entrance. And so I walked away from the throngs of people and found this tree and we shared a view and a solitary memory I would not trade away.
April 10, 2025 at 3:04 PM
I walked to the entrance of Angkor Wat at 4 am to see the sunrise, but hundreds were gathered already to catch the reflection off the ponds that grace the entrance. And so I walked away from the throngs of people and found this tree and we shared a view and a solitary memory I would not trade away.
my sweet
Persephone
how I have longed
for your return
and the touch
of your warmth
once again
Persephone
how I have longed
for your return
and the touch
of your warmth
once again
April 9, 2025 at 9:53 PM
my sweet
Persephone
how I have longed
for your return
and the touch
of your warmth
once again
Persephone
how I have longed
for your return
and the touch
of your warmth
once again
A song sparrow sits silently,
a ballerina holds arabesque,
a tumbleweed waits for a breeze,
a hummingbird hovers,
motionless.
But I have forgotten all song lyrics,
the flowing dance of prose has fled,
I can’t write up a wind for the life of me,
and of flowery thoughts,
I have none left.
a ballerina holds arabesque,
a tumbleweed waits for a breeze,
a hummingbird hovers,
motionless.
But I have forgotten all song lyrics,
the flowing dance of prose has fled,
I can’t write up a wind for the life of me,
and of flowery thoughts,
I have none left.
April 4, 2025 at 9:00 PM
A song sparrow sits silently,
a ballerina holds arabesque,
a tumbleweed waits for a breeze,
a hummingbird hovers,
motionless.
But I have forgotten all song lyrics,
the flowing dance of prose has fled,
I can’t write up a wind for the life of me,
and of flowery thoughts,
I have none left.
a ballerina holds arabesque,
a tumbleweed waits for a breeze,
a hummingbird hovers,
motionless.
But I have forgotten all song lyrics,
the flowing dance of prose has fled,
I can’t write up a wind for the life of me,
and of flowery thoughts,
I have none left.
I am a hidden landscape
cropped and contained
within this portrait frame
and the smile that you see
is only the surface of me
for I am a mountain scene
behind a forest of trees
and the blue in my eyes
contains a sparkling sea
no, I am not what you see
there is much more to me
just over the horizon.
cropped and contained
within this portrait frame
and the smile that you see
is only the surface of me
for I am a mountain scene
behind a forest of trees
and the blue in my eyes
contains a sparkling sea
no, I am not what you see
there is much more to me
just over the horizon.
March 30, 2025 at 7:13 PM
I am a hidden landscape
cropped and contained
within this portrait frame
and the smile that you see
is only the surface of me
for I am a mountain scene
behind a forest of trees
and the blue in my eyes
contains a sparkling sea
no, I am not what you see
there is much more to me
just over the horizon.
cropped and contained
within this portrait frame
and the smile that you see
is only the surface of me
for I am a mountain scene
behind a forest of trees
and the blue in my eyes
contains a sparkling sea
no, I am not what you see
there is much more to me
just over the horizon.
can you imagine curtains
flapping in the breeze as
she calls out to her child
come in, call your father
a stew is on the fire and
can you imagine smoke
off stone chimney rising
into blue sky like ghosts
whispering as they float
over wildflower meadow
between tired old bones
can you
imagine
a home
flapping in the breeze as
she calls out to her child
come in, call your father
a stew is on the fire and
can you imagine smoke
off stone chimney rising
into blue sky like ghosts
whispering as they float
over wildflower meadow
between tired old bones
can you
imagine
a home
March 29, 2025 at 3:36 PM
can you imagine curtains
flapping in the breeze as
she calls out to her child
come in, call your father
a stew is on the fire and
can you imagine smoke
off stone chimney rising
into blue sky like ghosts
whispering as they float
over wildflower meadow
between tired old bones
can you
imagine
a home
flapping in the breeze as
she calls out to her child
come in, call your father
a stew is on the fire and
can you imagine smoke
off stone chimney rising
into blue sky like ghosts
whispering as they float
over wildflower meadow
between tired old bones
can you
imagine
a home
open your petals, little flower,
and bloom for me.
for it is spring,
and I am,
the sun.
and bloom for me.
for it is spring,
and I am,
the sun.
March 29, 2025 at 1:44 AM
open your petals, little flower,
and bloom for me.
for it is spring,
and I am,
the sun.
and bloom for me.
for it is spring,
and I am,
the sun.
Somewhere beyond the fog,
there is a breeze,
that will push this gloom away,
and reveal the sun to me.
there is a breeze,
that will push this gloom away,
and reveal the sun to me.
March 22, 2025 at 8:29 PM
Somewhere beyond the fog,
there is a breeze,
that will push this gloom away,
and reveal the sun to me.
there is a breeze,
that will push this gloom away,
and reveal the sun to me.
36 years after my 1st unsuccessful attempt at college and my only attempt at an art major, I had my 1st figure drawing class, and right off the bat, we had 2 minute gestural drawing drills with a model.
It was freeing and I forgot how good it feels to leave my brain behind and just create by heart.
It was freeing and I forgot how good it feels to leave my brain behind and just create by heart.
March 22, 2025 at 6:43 PM
36 years after my 1st unsuccessful attempt at college and my only attempt at an art major, I had my 1st figure drawing class, and right off the bat, we had 2 minute gestural drawing drills with a model.
It was freeing and I forgot how good it feels to leave my brain behind and just create by heart.
It was freeing and I forgot how good it feels to leave my brain behind and just create by heart.
Inside, you are ultraviolet in color, possessing invisible wavelengths of hidden purple hues, the kind that grace the corners of a sunset, or hide within the folds of a bloom. A color so lovely, only the bees and butterflies, can see the true beauty of you.
But somehow….
somehow, I see you too.
But somehow….
somehow, I see you too.
March 21, 2025 at 12:44 PM
Inside, you are ultraviolet in color, possessing invisible wavelengths of hidden purple hues, the kind that grace the corners of a sunset, or hide within the folds of a bloom. A color so lovely, only the bees and butterflies, can see the true beauty of you.
But somehow….
somehow, I see you too.
But somehow….
somehow, I see you too.
Put down the book of art….
A poem.
A poem.
March 19, 2025 at 7:39 PM
Put down the book of art….
A poem.
A poem.
I stayed up to catch a glimpse of the blood moon the other night. I got there too late though, never saw who killed it. Perhaps it was the dish I saw running away with the spoon.
March 18, 2025 at 10:44 PM
I stayed up to catch a glimpse of the blood moon the other night. I got there too late though, never saw who killed it. Perhaps it was the dish I saw running away with the spoon.
fair daffodils
grace
frost crusted
leaf litter
left over
from last autumns
hasty retreat,
and
though
red breasted
Robin
has been seen
flitting about
barren branches
for weeks,
these
solitary specks
of color
are the first
true breaths
of spring,
and hint
at green things
to come
grace
frost crusted
leaf litter
left over
from last autumns
hasty retreat,
and
though
red breasted
Robin
has been seen
flitting about
barren branches
for weeks,
these
solitary specks
of color
are the first
true breaths
of spring,
and hint
at green things
to come
March 17, 2025 at 1:44 PM
fair daffodils
grace
frost crusted
leaf litter
left over
from last autumns
hasty retreat,
and
though
red breasted
Robin
has been seen
flitting about
barren branches
for weeks,
these
solitary specks
of color
are the first
true breaths
of spring,
and hint
at green things
to come
grace
frost crusted
leaf litter
left over
from last autumns
hasty retreat,
and
though
red breasted
Robin
has been seen
flitting about
barren branches
for weeks,
these
solitary specks
of color
are the first
true breaths
of spring,
and hint
at green things
to come
though his call still lingers
in memories,
the branch is now empty,
the owlet is long gone.
but I do not lament
his absence,
or curse the bird
for his transient nature,
for what more can one expect,
of a winged creature,
meant to flee
the confines of the nest,
than a glance,
and a silent
goodbye?
in memories,
the branch is now empty,
the owlet is long gone.
but I do not lament
his absence,
or curse the bird
for his transient nature,
for what more can one expect,
of a winged creature,
meant to flee
the confines of the nest,
than a glance,
and a silent
goodbye?
March 16, 2025 at 5:30 PM
though his call still lingers
in memories,
the branch is now empty,
the owlet is long gone.
but I do not lament
his absence,
or curse the bird
for his transient nature,
for what more can one expect,
of a winged creature,
meant to flee
the confines of the nest,
than a glance,
and a silent
goodbye?
in memories,
the branch is now empty,
the owlet is long gone.
but I do not lament
his absence,
or curse the bird
for his transient nature,
for what more can one expect,
of a winged creature,
meant to flee
the confines of the nest,
than a glance,
and a silent
goodbye?
It’s international Pi day people. Eat a pie and be a little bit more than three times happier today. It’s science.
March 14, 2025 at 7:21 AM
It’s international Pi day people. Eat a pie and be a little bit more than three times happier today. It’s science.
March 10, 2025 at 7:32 PM
A little princess
built a castle
by the sea
did she fantasize
of chivalry
and happily ever afters
or dream
of making the world
a kinder one for little girls
I do not know
Her dreams are not mine
to know
But after she left
I stayed
wishing on a falling star
to grant her wish
whatever it
might be
built a castle
by the sea
did she fantasize
of chivalry
and happily ever afters
or dream
of making the world
a kinder one for little girls
I do not know
Her dreams are not mine
to know
But after she left
I stayed
wishing on a falling star
to grant her wish
whatever it
might be
March 9, 2025 at 8:57 PM
A little princess
built a castle
by the sea
did she fantasize
of chivalry
and happily ever afters
or dream
of making the world
a kinder one for little girls
I do not know
Her dreams are not mine
to know
But after she left
I stayed
wishing on a falling star
to grant her wish
whatever it
might be
built a castle
by the sea
did she fantasize
of chivalry
and happily ever afters
or dream
of making the world
a kinder one for little girls
I do not know
Her dreams are not mine
to know
But after she left
I stayed
wishing on a falling star
to grant her wish
whatever it
might be
A forest is purpose for lazy walks
A forest is soothing on tired eyes
A forest is silence for solitary talks
A forest is comfort for weary sighs
A forest is kind to angry thoughts
A forest is calm to troubled minds
A forest, is where I go, to find me.
A forest is soothing on tired eyes
A forest is silence for solitary talks
A forest is comfort for weary sighs
A forest is kind to angry thoughts
A forest is calm to troubled minds
A forest, is where I go, to find me.
March 8, 2025 at 5:50 PM
A forest is purpose for lazy walks
A forest is soothing on tired eyes
A forest is silence for solitary talks
A forest is comfort for weary sighs
A forest is kind to angry thoughts
A forest is calm to troubled minds
A forest, is where I go, to find me.
A forest is soothing on tired eyes
A forest is silence for solitary talks
A forest is comfort for weary sighs
A forest is kind to angry thoughts
A forest is calm to troubled minds
A forest, is where I go, to find me.
Finished except for little touches here and there. Looks more like my grandpa after tweaking and refining it, but I can still see myself in there. Now to do it again on a nicer sheet of paper and correct the little issues in it so it looks exactly the way I want it.
March 2, 2025 at 8:26 PM
Finished except for little touches here and there. Looks more like my grandpa after tweaking and refining it, but I can still see myself in there. Now to do it again on a nicer sheet of paper and correct the little issues in it so it looks exactly the way I want it.
Not in the mood to write poetry with the stuff going on, so I’m practicing drawing portraits instead. Always have been afraid to tackle faces, time to get over that once and for all. This drawing of my grandpa is not quite right, seems I incorporated my own face into it as it looks a bit like me.
March 1, 2025 at 9:12 PM
Not in the mood to write poetry with the stuff going on, so I’m practicing drawing portraits instead. Always have been afraid to tackle faces, time to get over that once and for all. This drawing of my grandpa is not quite right, seems I incorporated my own face into it as it looks a bit like me.
I captured this butterfly pic in Cambodia. I always loved gifting my grandma drawings or paintings or photos of butterflies to add to her collection, she loved them so, and whenever I see one, I can feel her checking in on me.
Today is her birthday.
Happy Birthday Grandma. 🦋
Today is her birthday.
Happy Birthday Grandma. 🦋
February 22, 2025 at 10:37 PM
I captured this butterfly pic in Cambodia. I always loved gifting my grandma drawings or paintings or photos of butterflies to add to her collection, she loved them so, and whenever I see one, I can feel her checking in on me.
Today is her birthday.
Happy Birthday Grandma. 🦋
Today is her birthday.
Happy Birthday Grandma. 🦋
One of my favorite photos from a recent trip to Cambodia. The colors, the people, the random things for sale. I keep looking at it and finding something interesting I hadn't seen before and find myself thinking, I definitely need to travel more.
February 19, 2025 at 3:45 AM
One of my favorite photos from a recent trip to Cambodia. The colors, the people, the random things for sale. I keep looking at it and finding something interesting I hadn't seen before and find myself thinking, I definitely need to travel more.