“Maraschino Cherries” / "Six Degrees Separate Us" / “Two to Tango”
Paint Chip Poetry #16-18: April 16, 17, & 18, 2025
“Maraschino Cherries”
There is no place like home, and like vintage turquoise matrix patterns, it can be identified with a half-way glance; Just a chance to recognize something you never noticed before. Like the bittersweetness of summer lemonade, your mouth twists at the first taste of it. Then, the sugary fondness of nostalgia kicks in, and you're lost in the memory of a time you'll never see again. Like the acorn laid beneath the lively oak, you're a hard nut to crack. You don't want to admit where you were planted, and years later, you see how easily it was all taken for granted. There is no place like home, and like the Sundae maraschino cherries, you find yourself gagging, spitting out the pits and stems, fearing the inevitable, heart-stopping moment when it all ends.
“Six Degrees Separate Us”
In this ever-shrinking, ever-crinkling world, there are but six things on which to rely-- six glimpses into our interconnectedness, unfurled. In these things, the fundamentals always apply. From the peace-filled olive branch held tightly in the dove's beak, to the breath of fresh air taken gratefully at top of the tallest peak; From the largest sea anemone dancing wildly on the ocean floor, to the smallest rivet built into the Golden Gate on Baker's shore; From tulips in spring blossoming brightly in the East, to wide sagebrush scrubs flowering lightly in the West; From matter to ashes, from energy to dust, these are the six degrees that separate us.
“Two to Tango”
you prickly pear, you green with envy over the length of my love for you. once bulletproof, the red flags never discouraged me from wanting you. it's only now, in the blues, i want to let out my war cry. i want to push the past versions of our happy selves over the cliff. i want to send you anonymous hate mail with a wax seal. i want to resist every urge i have left to touch you. it still takes two to tango, and somewhere along the way, we both made so many awful mistakes. i don't know what life looks like after you-- when the unfortunate circumstance that brought me to you no longer holds the world hostage. i walked by the bench in the park where i spent a summer sitting next to you, the sight of which no longer brings a smile to my face like it used to. we are emeshed into every piece of clothing i've outgrown all the tv shows, books, and albums i've since owned. when kissing you was still an option, i found excuses to resist, seized in wanton caution. where do we go now that fate no longer brings us together?



What is Paint Chip Poetry?
While browsing an art supply store recently, I came across a small game box filled with small paint chips and prompts—simple building blocks with which to create infinite poems and colorful sequences.
I’ve always adored poetry but never felt particularly adept at writing it. This year, I’d like to try and get better. With it being National Poetry Month, I thought it would be a fun writing challenge to use this game box as inspiration to write a brand new poem every day for the entire month of April.
The Rules
I must choose a prompt and four-to-eight paint chips at random. I get a single opportunity to re-draw a sample if I’m not feeling it, but that’s it. Just one. However, I can redraw if I get a repeat.
I must write a poem using the prompt and all of the paint chip words/phrases within the text of the poem. They must be bolded and italicized.
I must post the poem each day to Substack & include a photo of the paint chips in every post.



I love the imagery here. Also some very relatable themes. I’m really glad to be able to read them.