Silly-Savvy Poem – Thursday

Trudging, hearse-like, in morning slumber – worse, I know, than swinging out to terrain of pink-dank carpet, cupped with hoops of tan (the stains of long-drunk coffee cups, and mugs, and breakfast bowls- uprooted from cluttered-clanks of kitchen chaos, to quell the thirst of mornings gone, of people past, of time thrown out, of thoughts…

Thursday Thoughts

On this day, this ordinary Thursday, I find myself stuck for inspiration. My head tells me to write about gripes and grudges – and all the grizzly gunge that grieves me, but I feel that such things, in the era of the mindful, would likely be minded, by those who mind a lot about the…