#oldhouse
This old house has grown mellow,
Adapts itself to the winter weather
By the virtue of little resistance:
Letting in some persistent wind,
Giving up, with unconvincing reluctance,
Some inside heat and light.
Outside the snowflakes dally now –
A carefree afternoon's work (or was it play?)
And into the evening –
Enough is enough,
Five inches on the ground already
Where the wind hasn't played
Give and take, and made
Of the backyard a lake
With waves held still at one below;
There's always tomorrow
To adjust today's work if there's
Been a mistake of what
And how much should go where.
The wine I sip by the fireplace
I toast to you
Sunlight
In a frozen glass bubble.
And the delicate white crunch
I hear on the outside steps
I'll investigate tomorrow. Unless
I hear what I heard before ...
The three short raps
Of the wind playing again
With the shutter.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 1:53 PM UTC
Grandfather's house, knocked to the ground - to dust:
The windows wept when the bulldozer came
Timeworn and ***** and wheezing black smoke,
Just like the drab mills where grandfather moiled.
Children play in the intriguing debris
Where, once, children played on the garden path,
Where grandfather told stories of past things
And the children listened wide eyed, in awe.
The door remains standing, creaking, ajar,
As it yawns in the twilight of the gloom
And the children knock though no one answers
So, they run away for, why should they stay?
Abandoned now, no one, near here, comes by
Except myself in the patience of night
As I tap on the door, though softly now,
Grandfather answers and dolefully smiles.
Aug 15, 2022
Aug 15, 2022 at 3:20 AM UTC
Three boys
I was the youngest
A family of five
In a big old house
With ONE bathroom
I learned the valuable lesson
Of waiting
Patiently
How to hold
It
And getting ready for school
Was a choreography
Of hierarchy
And I would wait
And wait
Until the yellow tiled room was mine
Alone
And I could brush my teeth
In peace
Then spit
Then look in the mirror
Comb my hair
And grin at that kid
Smiling a crooked smile at me
And say “good enough for a small town”
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 12:15 AM UTC
Oh My.... The Blue and White Checkered Board Floor in that house, Memories Flooded me last night. then I awoke screaming a few things, as in my dreams I was on the walkway on my knees just distraught and terrified screaming " it was not my fault, they stole my memories, they didn't believe me and they called me a liar." and was having full on flashbacks and bizarre dreams. coconut shavings in a can that tasted so good, they were like milk. dumbo the elephant, golden trains all on a children's book, and readings, like "broken pre *** short and stout, here is my handle and here my broken spout" a bead girl in the marsh by the house in the dream, the pegboard and the spotless floor blue and white keep clean, asking to go, or as we heard someone in the kitchen working and trying to hold it in. and then, watching as we drove by my grand mothers as I cry thinking, she will never know that it was not her fault and she will not know where to find me as I was doing as I was told by driver. I remembered the taste of pennies in my mouth as my bones would bend, always wishing they would break but they would just bend. and I kept hearing," likely blew with is horn, crying wolf, crying wolf, lil boy blew,blew his silly lil horn and no one would believe all the children were torn." yes, the house with the blue and white checkered floor seems to have triggered finally a few memories and some very intense and did I mention intense dreams. I woke screaming and sweating a few times while sleeping in phoenix'a bed. yeah.I could use ... yeah ... that was ... yeah.. but now I remember, and I tried, and there are parts I targeting talk about on here. yes I see ... too and the girl blue and all the....... wow intense dreams.
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
Walls
Askilter
Sounds
Linger
Voices
Whisper
Lights
Flicker
Mice
Skitter
Snakes
Slither
And somewhere
Nearby
A monster lurks.
Dear monster underneath my bed,
You scare me
Even though you're dead.
And though a lurking ghost you be,
My horrid monster
You scare me.
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC