this is what’s mine
(my lips, my thighs)
i am not to
be tamed
i will not
push to explain what
i am,
who i am;
who i am is none of
your concern
pull my hair
paint my face
squeeze my curves into
one place
keep in mind
the lord made me
the beautiful
that i be
and last i observed
you don’t
hold the clay
that he’s been
moldin’
just for me
~ A. L. Stippich
star gazer
I sat on the edge of a star today (head in the sand, feet in the tide), Watching pieces of dead earth tap the edge of the moon from an ever ripening sea in the Sky ~ A. L. Stippich
what it be
what it be let it be let what should be free, be freed within thee and what has to be, be by my own decree Just let what be and let others flee when it is time for them to flee (Let me flee, I must Flee) for I am free, to be me for what is freed within you is also freed within me so let be what needs to be and be freed ~ A. L. Stippich
a tear
There's a tear In there, somewhere Where my heart used to care Where there was no Despair Where my face felt the air, and Fear Never used to scare; There's a tear There's a tear in there ~ A. L. Stippich
slow boats
that faithful cigarette
burns a hole
in her side,
displaced thoughts
dance
along the corners
of her abandoned
room, as
slow boats rip
against
the high tides
of her troubled
mind
a selfless
suicide, (vacancy)
plays a tune
behind those hostile
eyes;
her thin words
etched
along the
dotted line
who is she?
(a ghost?)
a piece of familiar
a shadow of
yesterday
creeping up
from behind
to pull you
under
(the ocean's
deep)
and the slow boats
still wander
just a throw from
the shore
as the waves still
roar,
so i close
my eyes
and let the water
in
~ A. L. Stippich
maternity
a childless mother of none a heathen, (To fail) her purpose redirected at the tender age of twenty two (a walking casket, the crowd throws flowers, and mourns, spitting sentiments of well wishes and good health. Rejoice!) open up the hollow points of her decaying Womb, (the space has been labeled an empty tomb) Wasted and stripped, for her purpose is not but to exist, and Nothing more ~A. L. Stippich
intention(al)
(bang!) the echo stretches for miles even the trees stop and turn and all is still one slip of a finger on the silver hammer cuts a clear path through the front wall and out the back (enter through the side door, exit through the window) and everything you know (every idea) every picture (everything you carried, loosed) (every first love) spills back into the earth (your mother receives you in gallons; in pints) if all is not lost, then, for now, it is only you ~ A. L. Stippich
deep
I am in the winter, and I am in the snow. I am the child of a vengeful cloud Through the black trees, my sharp winds weave and grow (echo, I echo) I am a quiet death, I will take them while they sleep I am the rattle of their window pane, And the numb beneath their feet I will wake you at the moment, in the deepest of your slumber When the moon wanes to the center and lightning meets with thunder When a rush sets through the freezing streams I’ll bleed you out, and strangle your dreams I’ll spend the last of the air that I breathe to bring you down here, into the deep with me (into the deep, you will be here, with me) ~ A. L. Stippich
Life at the Burrow 