If I were a building – A bit of prose – A thought experiment

Reading Time: 2 minutes

If I were a building.

A thought experiment.
By jenny K Brennan

I would have cubby holes and symmetry. Flexibility and safety. I would be space age and dreamscape, order and safety. I would have a name.
My foundation would hold steady in any storm within or without. But come the will and need I would move.
Based on all the souls that made me, my boundaries would be no more and no less than the sum of you.
Saving space to give it room.

I would hold safe and offer myself as toolshed and canvas for those within my body.
Were you to paint a mural on my wall, I would attractor you a muse and mentor.
I would have order within reason. I would demand respect as I give it.
I would be dignified but offer my spaces for laughter and lovemaking.
Where I catch the sun, where I protect from wind, where
I offer hiding places, it all makes sense.
I would have a spirit but no designated place to speak to me. I would constantly listen and accommodate wishes in all the ways I am capable.
I would be strong and beautiful. I would be dignified and pure. I would be your safe haven and your communication device.

If I were a building I would be your home. And yours. And yours. And all your homes would be your perfect home as my body and spirit wants to hold only those who understand to respect their spaces with love and creativity. Do with me what you wish
and if your wish is for a place to be really you, I will let you and I will keep you for as long as you desire. Your dream home; for a time or for a life, for your children to be offered that same choice.

If I were a building. I would be your dream home. And yours. And yours.

Jenny Brennan
January 11 2017

February 2, 2012December 15, 2018

What’s in the box – A micro adventure poem of sorts.

Reading Time: < 1 minute

What’s in the box?

By Jenny K Brennan
This was inspired by a writing prompt in a forum contest on Scribophile.

What’s in the box?

I was out of my mind. I knew it could never work. But I couldn’t stop myself. It was that urge, the itching, and the constant need. I had to have it.

And I snuck out late at night, tiptoed along dark streets, peeked through windows at people that sometimes would sleep. Sometimes not so deep.

And I saw it, through a stained pane, which I broke.

So I snuck in, I tiptoed around the darkened home, and frightened as I was, I could not stop.

It was there. I grabbed, I ran, and bells started screaming. Sirens blaring, spotlights glaring. I ran.

Out through teeth of glass that bit, down the alley, across a lawn. I took it, had it, looked at it.

And it opened easily enough as I paced a giggling circle in a shade away from moonlight. Shuffled my feet, froze, and stared.

At the bottom, under the lovely lid, below the frazzle of thin paper, and this I swear I didn’t do.

Through the bottom I saw grass, and edge of asphalt, a darkness, a leaf. I saw it all, through a neatly cut out hole I saw my legs, my feet, the grass, and darkness of night…