Kitchen Floor Musings

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I plan to lament, to pity-party, to languish-unapologetic-like, the daylong, in regret and angst.

When dawn of some new era calls, I’ll hear it’s hearken, I’ll know it’s finally time I arise from the rain and fog.

‘Til that day, you’re cursed, Mountain, you’re soul-sold, Hollow, you’re a kind woman’s Relic and Shame.

Kadesh

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What might we share?
Except for some source of light
And the cello muse
I won’t pretend to know

Though

I like soft things
You like the edge
I’m drawn to abbeys
You’re from the deep

I flirt with irreverence
You respect me
So maybe we could stand
A day or year

A treaty, here

Find peace
Decide
Praise The Rock from which The Water flows
Not far from Jordan

Still Grieving

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These why-natured questions no human has answered
Nor monsters willing, either
Invade my slumber

Nightmares, demanding I wash the dishes
Become thinner and wear clothes that aren’t mis-matched
Occupy mistress status

Keep me searching

Leaving me susceptible to sages insisting
A renaissance woman now, I ought dress for my inner warrior
The muse who I let be stolen

At 3am I harken her

A ghost now, still grieving for answers from man-shaped monsters — those captains who’ve abandoned the ship
She cannot answer back

Fireworks, Baby

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Count yourself among the many
Who do not care to consider my midnight musings of any value
To know my heart-wrenching pleas for your return
Sent unrequited out

But what you need know
My last diary entry was a mid-summer date
Immediately before the fireworks, but after my hope expired
Your birthday, baby