Thursday, October 1, 2009



She had given up on life long ago
and quit trying to meet the status quo.
Was it really worth it
all this hustle and bustle of life?
Did it really matter if the dishes weren't washed
or the bed not made?
Would it really matter in 10 years
or 20
or 100?
So she turns to her head
a raging volcano of thoughts,
and gently teases each word
to make a coherent sentence.
The words begin to stack
the sentences are mounting
and before the blink of an eye
she is lost again
in her own little world
of feelings and stance.
No, it doesn't matter,
the mundane will always be around,
but the fleeting glimpse of the elusive muse
calls to the soul and must be followed.


glnroz said...

In my opinion, your writings do not register as "mundane". Nice one here.

Dan Felstead said...

Bobbi...I always enjoy your writing and I just realized that I am not linking to your site. I set up my links when I first got started and I kind of forgot to update them as I found blogs I follow. I know that linking helps the Goggle ranking and will be linking to your site today. Sorry I have not done that before!

Have a great weekend.


Oh said...

This piece was inspiring. I'm not kidding. It has given me permission in its way to continue sitting here (at the laptop) and now turn to my writing EVEN THOUGH I am looking at a kitchen that could use straightening and a mopped floor and a fresh tablecloth and, well, you know...tons of mundane other things as well.
I just hope I can connect with the Muse right now and if not, will at least write-for-exercise!
Thanks for this one, Bobbi!