a quiet fairytale
Why so quiet he asked most sincerely,
I don’t want to rattle the skeletons in the closet said she,
the noise of rattling bones stirs up dust bunnies
and the mites of secrets lost in debris
at the bottom of old trunks and older tapestry bags~
You can tell me anything he declared earnestly,
old mites and dust bunnies have never scared me,
and though my own secrets are most mundane
they’ll hold hands with your skeletons and muffle those bones
so we can live life forever quietly, comfortably.
Are you the
one answer
that others
can’t question
Are you the
one constant
that others
will blame
Are you the
one voice
that others
can’t muffle
Are you the
one source
that others
— can’t change
(The New Room: July, 2026)
I started young, laying brick on brick—
each anxiety a stone I mortared into place.
By twelve, the walls were thick enough
to keep out compliments, to muffle praise.
The moat I dug with my own hands,
filled it with every worst-case scene:
the car crash, the missed deadline, the test
I’d fail despite knowing every answer clean.
I raised the drawbridge for anyone
who got too close, who saw the turrets
for what they were—not protection
but a prison I’d designed with such care
the architect and prisoner were the same.
Now I stand on the highest tower,
looking down at the life outside these walls,
the one I could have lived
if I hadn’t been so good at building,
if I hadn’t made this fortress so complete
that even I can’t find the door,
can’t remember which stone was the first I laid.????????????????
Mind's minute mirage may muffle,
But biding by blinding brings burns.
Severely she'll sunder, so scuffle,
'Til tomorrow, tomorrow turns.
Levity escapes me as the sun fades
Long shadows reach out to join in darkness
Silence gives way to a humming moonrise
Stealthy scents tempt predatory patience
Red eyes gaze into hungers haunting need
Soft feet muffle the presence of the prey
The subtlety of motionless movement
Awaiting the starters pistol of fear
Moonlight bathes the edges in silvery blue
A painter’s trick to lure you to its trap
Hold you in its masquerade of now
The brushstrokes of darkness counting coup
Like the ocean s the shore
endlessly, violently,
Until I'm nothing but salt on your skin.
Dripping sweet with memories...
Freaky hard do me.
On the edge of the kitchen counter,
Knock over the wine glass I never finished.
Pull my legs apart as I claw at your shirt,
Bite down on my shoulder to muffle the growl,
And leave me dripping where the light flickers.
So hard, do me.
Hold me down,with a grip that
Screams it's me who got a hold of you!!!
Push into me like you're carving
Your name into something eternal.
Make me forget the cold floor
Beneath us, the way the world spins.
Make me remember only you...
Just me.
Bare, bony fingers probe
nature’s naked cupboard
Nary a morsel seen
nutrition confined to dreams
December winds howl o’er barren ground
January storms muffle all sound
February thaws gurgle whispers of hope
Crushed by March, snowdrifts abound
Bears in hibernation, birds down south
We humans alone, down in the mouth …
One glimpse of Robin redbreast
~ no longer depressed
In Dylan Thomas's word play is read,
That hunched houses, blind as moles, are spread,
Like covers, feather-downed,
To hush and muffle any sound,
The moon dares make, sneaking overhead.
Town named 'Bugger All' backwards, parades
Its hang-over from late night charades,
Not a voice can be heard,
Not a breath, not a word,
As the moonlight creeps in, wearing shades.
In Under Milk Wood it's black as black.
It's crow-black, bluesy black, harking back,
To times long gone, dispelled,
When tiny towns were spelled,
For one to reconsider its quack.
Seas are fishing boat bobbled to rage.
Boys dream bad, on jolly roger stage.
Shops in mourning do moan.
Dumbfound town folks do groan.
Too late cock, morning's long up on page.
Dark fantasies ride glistening moonbeams through my chamber window.
They dance their strange ballet on cobwebs in the flickering candlelight,
before they abide among the dusty tomes.
The tapestries strain to muffle the sound of my breathing,
and the frantic scratching of my quill across the dry parchment.
The moon slowly retreats behind thick clouds,
and the moonbeams are pierced by raindrops until they fade.
The raindrops do their melancholy waltz on the sill,
as lightning drives the dark from every corner of my chamber.
I smile as the thunder awakens something deep within my soul.
Somewhere outside my chamber door, a heavy chain drags the floor.
House just turned one hundred years old.
Wooden floors preserve foot-fossils of ancestors.
A fresh coat of paint cannot muffle yesterday's fireplace carolers.
Our stockings hang beside the stockings of ghosts.
House has a heart- a pulse- layered in golden life tones.
I feel at ease in every honey-smoked room
and perfectly balanced on the uneven floors.
I don't mind the infinite cobwebs
that once were catchers of dreams.
Its three peaks and thirteen stairs
had significant meaning to past tenants.
It means nothing now for certain -but it doesn't matter.
I respect their strong marriage to the pastel past.
There're pockets and niches
whose purpose is long forgotten.
Just like I will soon be.
A discarded tin can in a wildflower field.
Winter evenings that I spend with house
are the warmest I've ever had.
I pray it feels the same about me...
Hanging a stocking filled with endless gifts
from a pale, blue-collared memory.
nobody loves an angry girl.
so i muffle my screams with my bloody arm.
but thats not enough is it.
my rage is displayed on my face everywhere i go.
it lurks under my scars.
anger is a part of me.
fury, melancholy, confusion.
there's no way to hide it.
Juggle master kept adding to his shuffle
He is amazing said his cousin Leland Muffle.
Juggling balls, teapots, sandwiches and more.
Almost anything I bring home from the store.
Did he ever juggle guns? I ask. Did he ever juggle a knife?
He juggled a knife once, but he said he’d never do it twice.
He amazes me I said as he juggled cookies and tea cakes.
I wonder if he could juggle a few hoes and garden rakes?
Hark… hark… hear my voice, a mere leftover refrain
Never can you see me, I’ve no form left to gain
Look up… look up… and miss me, resound with the air
Don’t take my loss for granted, only spells despair
Grief… grief… counts for nothing, on the flip side of love
Pinpointing its vector, may bring hope from above
Crunch… crunch… the numbers, add symbols in lower case
Headstones of algebra, surround my resting place
Wait… wait… I hear cries, emanating at my grave
Broken hearted loved ones, so many tears they gave
Listen.. listen… up, your mourning’s setting me free
This life snuffed out, echoes down through eternity
Hush… hush… my darling, pillows muffle as you sleep
Pull tight the sheets and love me, inside dreams so deep
Kra ki drd lukai bethi aa
Bhre ni jkhm bs sukai bethi aa
Tu yad na aawe ho k prai bethi aa
Tu hojwe aabad peer mnai bethi aa
Tere mere past nu sjai bethi aa
Present nal future rjayi bethi aa
Raha'n teriya ch akh nu tkai bethi aa
Kjl nal bindi v lgai bethi aa
Teri meri ik tasweer bna k aayi aa
Tu Mera hoje maape chhd rbb v mna k aayi aa
Tere lyi ik muffle bnai bethi aa
Hor ni hone ki al lnga k bethi aa
Likha ki tere te m ta tenu gaa k bethi aa
Bhul ni hoi jdo m tere nal chaa te bethi aa
La k bethi aa pa k bethi aa
Khore oh mil ee jawe jo gwa k bethi aa
A vision for the hope of new tomorrow
Though path of faith is often deep and hollow
The dawn will muffle all the pains and sorrows
That sun will light the joy of bright brand new day
In silence, the thick black clouds will come to lay
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