Connie Karleta Sales

For the Love of Paper

Uplift our spirits. Protect us through, with your healing spirit. Amen. CKS First Attempt A single moment in a day of physical therapy. Learning trust. *originally published on my Medium blog – Story Story Night Link and Image below were shared with permission* This day was a special day.  In the growing frustrations and fear…

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Redemption Song

interlace drawn I say you sing mimic unseemly shade-tide; love into your wound drawn as I am laced internal shade voice seemly un-mimicked tide say we; love into your wound. CKS she is a portrait; figure standing. paint much love, always Connie Karleta Sales a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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F.r.o.g.s. in Residence, part II

“Did I ever tell you my dream? No?” This dream was so real I awoke as if it already existed. I founded a world renowned art center in an old Gothic-style church. The main sanctuary housed exquisite rotating exhibitions based in community conversation. The chaplet to the side housed a permanent collection. Diverse people came…

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Bone Soaked

I am bone soaked exhaustion of the well; teeth-ground doubling down all or all no turning. I am bone soaked drifting down forward night’s grief walking frays twinkle-eyed portrait parched. I am bone soaked; softly kiss my soul. paint much love, always, Connie Karleta Sales a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower

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The Psalmist

My heart tapers. Rest becomes life; Night genuflects day. CKS L27 Intimate grove of trees across a rolling field in the Pacific Northwest. The Palouse is a magnificently vibrant region in the Pacific Northwest that encompasses parts of North Central Idaho and Southeast Washington.   My lasting memory is of the rolling agricultural hillsides as we…

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Drawing Beauty ~ Writing Love

Breath of our Heavens Lay hands upon us. Sweat giving creatures Wounded in brittleness; Expansive hearts Bare blistered feet. Covered in muck Trudging in mire Breathe in our Heavens; Dig it deep, lung-breasted! Breathe in, our Heavens, Lay hands upon you. Threads, stitched into a continuum of emotions. Covered in your labors, Trudging upright Heads…

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We are F.r.o.g.s. in Residence, Part I

Friendship underneath Reveling the Other; energetic Green peaches of coloration; Skin; continues. CKS (Acrostic Golden Shovel with Tracy Hicks, us f.r.o.g.s., et. al.) Visit  Keep Digging Deeper to learn more about the Acrostic Golden Shovel We are frogs; in residence.   Friendships of entanglement; Patchworks of the healing thread-bare; Lovers in play. Temporary beings, we…

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To Walk

to journey to learn to grieve to fly whisper dark fear I hear you -in my throat dark whisper hear fear fear feel my throat voice calling -I will walk CKS What NaPoWriMo taught me The journey is the simple act of willingness Not the perfection of the destination. paint much love, always, Connie Karleta…

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Spring visits me

Green appeared; chartreusing sparkles beyond the density of winter’s bark. “Here I am!” waving in the breezes. If not a smile then a glimpse; felt in the outer crease of her eye. Spring moves forwards; a branch of green reaches its touch shaking-hands invitation “Good Morning, I am Spring. I am so glad to meet you!”…

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Day 12: Where We Are

neither I sit; restless I tremble. water’s silence spring parades in the shade-cast room behind glass veiled curtain I, road of forgotten dreaming fingers roam; where we are CKS I opened the door  today.  One thing at a time. Brush teeth. Shower.  Beauty in simple tasks not so easy. Dishes.  Food.  Water.  Bird song and a…

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Day 9: To Heal

drips may fall violently from his kiss but those wounds do not bleed until they heal. . . Scarring bonds Foundation’s bridge I darn my lips thread bares’ edge held as harmless violence falls anxious quiver’s intoxicant cure. heartbroken anguish pools dry scabbed as I am bonds mending terse muscle builds head high turning turning…

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Breakfast of Champions

defender protector where are you? This girl that I miss her I am angry slow shifts like a cool metastasis radical revolutionist revise yourself wax your light spark wane the sunset fire love into it she is there. CKS The cool depression of the snotty cry.  It seeps into your bones; feels like a stain…

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