Bubbling Up…


Iris Petra,

I guess you think it’s really cute to give me a name, and to give me a voice. Haven’t you learned anything from all the stories you’ve read in your life? Be careful what you wish for.

I know you. I know you get bright ideas, and you run with them for a while, but sooner or later, you lose steam. I can dig you giving me a public platform like this to tell my side of things. But don’t for a minute get comfy thinking I won’t tell things exactly like they are.

How long will you keep this up? Giving that goody two shoes, Agnes, and I voices is quite a gimmick. I like having a voice. We’ll see how long *you like* me having one.

No, the image above is *not* what I look like. Please. I put that there a reminder that not everything in your head is very pretty, and now that you’ve given me a platform, well some of that not very pretty stuff is on it’s way to the surface.

Rasi Tripe

© 2018 Iris Baldwin All Rights Reserved.

Do I Need a Reason?


I write because I want something good to read.

I write because my dad, in his pink marble urn won’t be coming back this time.

I miss getting phone calls and silly greeting cards from him in the mail.

He always addressed them with my name, followed by “or current resident.”

I write because candy comes in colorful wrapping, and because people grow up, not down.

I write when I am angry.

If I don’t, that anger will build up inside

Until I burst like a balloon in the hands of a careless child.

I write because people fill churches on Sunday mornings, so life must mean something.

I write because I love easily, and because there are Muppets.

Since kindergarten, I have been learning to share and to forgive,

And they’re harder to do than writing any day.

I write because I dream in Technicolor and not black and white.

I write because I can immortalize people who hurt me as “the bad guys.”

In his songs Cat Stevens urges me to do what I want,and not what people say.

I agree with Cat Stevens, so I write that down.

I write because if I didn’t, my hands would only display my rings.

I write because I read the book “Harriet the Spy” when I was eight.

On airplanes, I write while they prepare you for a water landing,

Even when you won’t be flying over a body of water bigger than a swimming pool.

I write because the clock is ticking, but my watch has stopped again.

I write because koalas dream sweet eucalyptus fantasies

Cradled in the branches of gum trees down in Australia.

I write because fashion-conscious ladybugs wear polka-dots.

My mother microwaves her ice cream so it won’t be too cold to eat.

It embarrassed her to know I wrote about that, so I did it a second time.

Sometimes I read too much, and I miss what’s going on around me,

So I write to keep a shoelace dragging on the floor of reality.

I write because little children smile at everybody, even when no-one smiles back.

I write because my brother and I still don’t know what kind of animal “Goofy” is.

I write because I am my father’s daughter.

A hot cup of tea will solve any problem,

Especially when I can’t think of what to write.

The comedy mask smiles and the tragedy mask frowns, so I write.

© 2018 Iris Baldwin All Rights Reserved.