#floors
This house was stable,
Or was it just level?
It could've been,
But the floor has been tilting,
And the furniture has been shifting,
While the faucets no longer stop running,
And I fear I'm the same,
So I gather myself on unstable floors,
And I fear I'll be to blame.
When the floors tilt just right,
Deliver that final blow,
Maybe then I'll know,
That this house was emptier at night.
It wasn't my floor,
But something below,
And it got that final blow,
So I search for the door,
Pour all I abhor,
With nothing left of our rapport,
Maybe it was meant to be more,
But now it's just sore.
Soar, the door will,
When my hand lands,
The house will spill,
and no one stands,
No one on these forgotten lands.
Just a house that forgot to stand,
And the broken floors that never stood a chance,
Only its memory in my hands,
And a final parting glance.
A glance at a house, I might comprehend if it remembered to stand.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 8:26 PM UTC
I had a dream.
I don’t remember most dreams.
I was cleaning the floors of heaven.
It seemed a mixed blessing,
I was in heaven, after all
but I was cleaning the floors.
It was a part time job,
I knew that intuitively.
I don’t mind house cleaning, heaven cleaning.
It’s calm work, kind of Zen.
Are we supposed to think of religions in heaven?
At first I scrubbed on my hands and knees.
The floors are soft in heaven, like golden gym mats.
Then I thought of it, and suddenly I had a swiffer-wet mop,
just like that - and the pad never wore out.
After a while, I had an iPod, and AirPods too.
Then a daiquiri - a banana daiquiri with a pastel rainbow umbrella.
They make rapturous daiquiris in the hereafter - they never run out.
‘Heavenly,’ I thought, snorting out a dizzy laugh.
.
.
Songs for this:
The River of Dreams Billy Joel
If the Lord Wasn't Walking By My Side by Elvis Presley
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
Oh darling,
I'm not at home,
If I'm not with you.
You're my polished floors,
My grand oak door.
The sweet luxury of my bed,
At the end of a long day of longing.
Warmth of my fireplace,
In the evening when not a worldly soul wakes.
When it comes to love,
I'm real picky,
I won't have it if it's not you.
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 8:45 AM UTC
_My floors are drenched in crimson,_ wine cascading
like unsolicited wisdom, a testament to my attempts at maturity,
Hoping it seeps into people’s gaze. Yet, to their astonishment,
I revel only in the celebration of my own existence.
Fragments of my being are enamoured with self-love,
serving myself a lavish feast of introspection.
In my unconventional revelries, I find my heart eager to
drift apart, tethered to someone who thrives far from the
clutches of shame. As you dwell in the dreamscape you've
crafted- a vivid mural of your own utopia; I firstly succumb
to tears on my pillow, muffling all the echoes of my anguish.
_My floors remain a vivid red;_ every moment of pretence
fades into oblivion, yet the pain lingers. Time hangs heavy on
my wrist, each second bleeding away, striving to meet an
acceptable standard. My fears and anxieties rise with the sun's
glow, while many struggle to confront their own truths,
choosing instead to bury them deep.
_My floors are undeniably red;_ beneath the veil of existence,
amidst the tumult of conflict—can you hear the whispers of
those desperately clinging to life, do their floors cry in
red too?
Oct 13, 2024
Oct 13, 2024 at 3:32 PM UTC
I dumped my laundry
On the ground
Hoping it would allow me
To feel motivated
Motivated to move
To clean to work
But all it did
Was sit on my floor
I sat with it too
Staring at the pile.
Looking for the answers
Written in my shirts
Jan 26, 2019
Jan 26, 2019 at 10:35 AM UTC
All of the colors in the world but
His eyes shook my core
I fell in love with the color brown
When I gazed into them
I begin to drown
I made a house in those eyes
From the ground up
I started to build
Oh I loved you
I'd put him in my will
Home
Wood floors
Memories of footsteps
Love was knocking at my door
For my garden
Only soil as close to the color of those
Dark brown eyes
I planted a life in his soul
Our walls made of solid gold
Dark brown eyes
I could feel him watch me
My favorite color, just like coffee
A cup of you each morning
His touch left my skin scorning
My boy with dark brown eyes
Why would you destroy
The greatest home of your life
M.d
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
I finally got the chance
To change the tone
It was just right
A brand new one too
...Days past...
...No calls...
...No text...
I sat in my quiet room
In front of my desk
With no sound around
A good time to think
A good time to write
Yep all alone
In my own world
Always before I begin
I take in a deep breath
Just to get things flowing
...WOW !!! ...
At that very moment
I heard it
Loud as day
It Echoed
Through the room
With good acoustics
Because of all the
wood floors
flipping out my chair
I flew just sliding
Across the room
I hit the floor hard
I was punched off guard
Choaking on my enhale
Laughing with my exhale
Yep! no scratches
No bumps or bruises
Up off the floor I jumped
Just fine I am
Oh yeah
That's right
I just remembered
What tone it was
I set
My own high pitched voice
"Someone's Texting You"
LOL...LOL... LOL...
This has really happened
Yet it is all so very true
I'm still laughing on the inside
And yes if you were there
You'd be laughing too...
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
I wake in a rusted copper red stained bed,
and focus my gaze though the window ahead,
to see the sun rise in a crimson, flame, flush, shade of glow,
the view reflected in my eyes seem burnt, but cold and slow,
I see rose red flowers in the meadow,
and the shine of a rainbow,
the sea of dark pastels in a strawberry sky,
the cardinals fly,
and as I change my sight to the inside,
the fluttering spotted ladybug try to hide,
I get up and walk across the maroon hard wood floor,
until my feet finally reach the bathroom door,
and I reach a sad sight inside the white room,
the seen is diluted and blank to the view,
I raise my body in fists of hateful recklessness,
and crash my ****** fists into the mirror in elegance,
and helplessly the glass reflections fall to the floor,
and cuts me until my blood flows to the door,
the spotted ladybug hiding on the ground,
couldn't escape the fateful death as it drowned,
and I collapsed next to the bug,
and soaked my skin into the ****** rug.
and I waked to find a sea of vermilion,
acting like a chameleon,
as it laid in pools across my pale bare floors,
as something to large like a corps to ignore.
Vermilion red in my eyes,
Vermilion red stuck in my mind,
Vermilion red lives until I leave for the sky.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 9:58 AM UTC
Shadows in my hall
They dance amongst my walls
They pirouette through my door
I feel thier dance steps on my floor
The shadow men love to play
They are here to stay
They scream they will never go away
Shadows in my hall
They leave scratches on my wall
They burst through my door
I feel their stomping on my floor
The shadow men are turning mean
They are becoming quite obscene
They are causing an awful scene
Shadows in my hall
They are leaving black marks on my wall
They scream right through my door
I feel their nails clicking on my floor
The shadow men now in my head
They are only there to spread dread
They are only there to be fed
Till at last I'm dead
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 3:43 PM UTC
I walk across the landing
and through the double doors
and aim towards the lift shaft,
that's where I'm going, of course.
It's as if it hears my footsteps
and needs no company
as that old elevator
shoots down to level 3.
Every single morning
as I approach its doors
it disappears pretty quick
down to those lower floors.
I swear it sees me coming
and doesn't like the look
so as I rush to hitch a ride
the **** thing slings its hook.
The doors are on a system,
computerised I read.
But whenever I get near them
they change the ****** speed.
I stand alone here waiting
and it just isn't fair
'cause I am stuck up here
when I want to be down there.
It speeds down to the bottom
and sits on the ground floor
you can here it taunting you
with the movements of the door.
Then after what seems ages
it gradually starts to rise
giving me some hope at last
as I can hear the noise.
Then it makes a pit stop
at another floor
and seems to take forever
to open and close its door.
Each and every level
seems to get a viewing
as if it wants to **** some time,
with my mind it is ********
And then it reaches the sixth floor
as if it is my saviour
and finally opens up the doors
as if it's doing a favour.
It seems as if this machine
requires me to stalk
so now I've found the stairwell
and instead I'm going to walk.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
Memories crumble to dust
Bricks of remembrance
Thrown angrily from the windows of my eyes
Shattering the glass seven floors up
At the bottom
The feet of those on the first floor
Had to walk on shards of regret
A treacherous, ****** movement
And in the end got no where
But back to the stained carpets
Screaming inside the walls
Of a house
Not a home
The second floor
Tenants fell to their knees
Begging for the first floor
To relax
The commotion was just
Too much too handle
Rattling the weakened, buckled walls
The third floor
They were frightened from the up rise of chaos
Got sick to the stomach
And doubled over in pained retrospect
Because they left their windows open
And swallowed air
Instead of pride
The fourth floor
Was broken beyond repair
Cracked right down the middle
Blood seeped from it's fissured walls
Like an arrow wound to the heart
Those inside sprawled in puddles of conflict
The fifth floor
Was out of bandages
For the fourth floor
They used them for mouth covers
So the sixth floor above couldn't smell
The lies on their breath
The sixth floor
Always did hold a nose in the air
But that couldn't hide them from trouble
They were stuffy, and often full
As though the tears that often ran down the bridges
Were more than the emotional pressures
They could carry at once
The seventh floor
Was tired of everything
Constantly red and with teary eyes
They stared down upon the whole scene
Disgusted with the image presented
So they threw the newest memories out
And watched them crumble to dust
Seven floors down
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC