Day 128

May 8, 2022

Mouse in the kitchen.

Residue of Chaos

 

It’s so simple, like my

heart that just keeps beating

ba dum ba dum ba dum.

It’s so quiet, like the

whispers I long for

from whom I’m not sure.

It’s so calm, like the

soaring vulture

so high above my head.

 

There’s so much static

residue of chaos

it’s the principle.

Reawaken while standing

in the train station

on old wide board floors.

How many nights

did I wait for that rumble,

the train approaching

screech of metal on metal

as the iron came to a halt

and men got off the trains?

Their ties loosened

top buttons undone

and the smell of alcohol

permeating, who’d won?

 

It’s so simple

my heart keeps beating.

Trum Drum Drum.

 

A whirlwind of memories

of cause and effect

of music encompassing

my nervous system.

The smell of booze

the touch of a drunk’s hand

and the hug of the

Moonlight Sonata;

the tug of Father’s love.

 

It’s so quiet

this gentle water land

I crave and soak in.

 

The past is long since gone

new memories line the walls

and meditations sing to my soul/

I am breathing

I am still marching on

dusty wide board floors.

So filled with song

and the vibration of life

filled with hurt and a

pleasure not known to all.

I am still marching

to string bands, a mandolin.

 

It's so calm

my solo dreamer’s band.

I lie in peaceful slumber. 

I hate Mother's Day, but I really love mothers, especially my own.