Creative Experiments and More

Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Nonsensical & Reena’s Exploration Challenge #259

their precious faces
and nonsensical babbles
sheer joy in their eyes
ah, the memories of those days
bring a smile to my face

the poopy diapers
siblings fighting
snot-filled noses
hours upon hours of crying
not so much

each year brought new challenges
as milestones were reached and lessons were learned
and just when my last nerve was plucked
growth occurred
i uttered a sigh of relief

they are grown now
having flown the coop
to fashion their lives as they see fit
it’s satisfying to know
i got two things right

Person A: How many children do you have?
Person B: Biological, spiritual, emotional, or legal?

Person A (let’s call her Alice) worked for The Child Welfare League of America (CWLA) which is the oldest national organization serving vulnerable children, youth, and their families and she received a complaint that Person B (let’s call her Barbara) who had many different types of children under her care, may not have had their best interests in mind.  Barbara was a sarcastic person and she saw the world differently than most other people, so she answered Alice’s question with her own question.  Barbara was a hippie and she had seven biological children and none of them had the same father and many of them she had no idea who the biological father was.  Barbara believed in free love, but she was married twice, and both of her marriages produced offspring, but that may not have…

one of these days
i’d be dancing the streets
and without a care
spin myself around
with the blowing wind
have the rain be
my dazzling confetti
tickling my feet
let the sun peak, glimpse
my on the spot performance
laughter is probably what i hear
the music of my uncoordinated
one, two step reluctance
and when they give
the spotlight to me
i’d porbably sing
half of the song
mostly out of tune
but who would mind
when your hand is already in mine
chaos already started
the leaves rustled
the sun dimmed down
my senses went wild
grasping the very last piece
of what my sanity is
like a psychedelic concerto
of light bulbs shattering
flowers blooming
strings snapping at the fast paced
tempo of the conductor
with a blasted hammer of Thor
the cymbals and the triangle
these are all nonsensical
unappealing, never pleasing
a dismantled organism

I have written on this topic before, more than twice. I’ve used two posts from my past and edited them to fit this prompt.

Prompt for RXC # 259;

“Think about how your being, your thoughts multiply in the universe. Write about your children and how do they make you happy. Mull over what else can you acquire or create to leave a legacy.

Do you want to be remembered after you’re gone and how?”

➰➰➰

Cast adrift on a moonless night

The ship sails on sea that is calm

Seeking quiet and solitude I stand here

Thinking how my life is dependent

On those who are a constant in my world

If……

One day I was not here anymore

Would my obituary be read with sadness

Or with a feeling of relief

Would I like them to be sad, missing me

Or will I leave them relieved…