Eternal Mouse

I am Mandy Mouse,

And this is such a lovely house,

Though I’m unknown to my host,

To her,

I propose a toast.

I was born a normal mouse,

The nest was deep inside a log,

That lay on the outskirts,

Of a squishy smelly bog.

Being the black sheep of that horde,

I had brothers and sisters,

Who all thought that they were Lord.

Of this I soon grew bored,

So I left behind that log,

As well as that squishy smelly bog,

And that was when I scored.

I was ambling along,

Humming me a real sweet song,

When a cat jumped down from a tree,

Landing right in front of me.

I made a rapid turn,

Moving swiftly to my right,

Hoping to avoid,

A disastrous fight.

Good fortune was with me,

For then I did see,

Maybe a foot or so ahead,

A rodent-sized hole,

At the base of that tree.

So I made a beeline,

And avoided that feline,

And though I sensed it following me,

There was no way,

For it to get into that tree.

I’m sure that kitty thought he was scary,

But in here I was relaxed,

And free of any worry.

As my eyes regulated to the darkness,

I spied a pretty plant,

A force seemed to compel me to it,

I could see it was special,

Even from afar,

And with the light being so scant.

I walked slowly to this plant,

That stupid cat forgotten,

Then true to my kind,

I stood quiet as a mouse,

All the while the phrase ‘I need to eat it’,

Kept running through my mind.

It seemed a shame to devour,

Such an appealing flower,

But at last I could resist no more.

I ate that pretty flower,

With its pink polka dots and neon leaves,

Then I fell in a heap,

And went to sleep.

Upon awakening,

I could not believe my eyes,

Oh my God,

Just look at my size!

To my delight,

I was magnified times ten,

Maybe even more,

I now weighed pounds instead of ounces,

It would seem I’m now big enough to wear flounces.

As I lay there imagining,

Me in fetching clothes and ribbons,

There to me a fairy appeared,

And though she looked to be ever so good,

My, this was getting weird!

She opened her mouth and said pleasantly,

“You are now big enough,

To not always be prey,

You will always live to see,

Another day”.

After saying these words,

With a poof she was gone,

Leaving me to ponder,

If she was the fairy she seemed,

Or a disguised evil spawn.

By now that horrid feline was long gone,

It was time I stirred and rose to my feet,

Though I knew not,

My exact destination,

I was aware that wherever it was,

My previous life would certainly be beat.

So up I got,

Then like magic,

The rodent-sized hole,

Opened up to accommodate,

My new size,

And then out I went,

Assuming my walk,

Under the clear blue skies.

On and on I went,

Until at last I came upon a settlement,

Too small to be a metropolis,

But bigger than a town,

And presently I got a feeling,

This is where I should settle down.

I stayed along the fringes,

Foraging for food,

While waiting on sundown,

When it would be safe,

For a jumbo mouse,

To go looking for a house.

My belly full of food,

I was in such a jolly mood,

On my way to the residential quarter,

Passing through the heart of the city,

I noticed a store,

Selling clothes that could make me feel pretty.

It was time to get some flounces,

And sturdy shoes to walk the miles,

I’d go in and find some styles,

That would work for me.

This magic thing was great,

Just as I began to contemplate,

How I’d get into a closed store,

In the wall appeared a me-sized door.

Once inside I went from rack to rack,

Putting things inside a sack,

Pretty dresses, hats, and walking shoes,

All this stuff for free,

Was a deal too good to refuse.

I left that place through the magic door,

Feeling proud and dressed so smartly,

I lifted the sack,

Onto my back,

And when I took a last glance,

Over my shoulder,

That magic door,

Was no more.

It was looking like,

That fairy was for real,

She was no evil spawn,

That flower granted me,

The gifts of magic powers,

And life eternally.

I next hit up a bakery,

Adding goodies to my sack,

After that a grocery store,

Where nuts and fruits and vegetables,

Were then put into the pack.

I then headed to the zone,

Where people make their homes,

In search of the perfect place,

To start my never-ending years,

Somewhere free of anything,

That might cause me tears.

I passed first some condominiums,

Another mile and I saw a trailer park,

Still farther on was a fancy gated community,

But none of these gave me a feeling,

That they were the place for me.

So still on and on I wandered,

Until I came upon this house,

Entirely perfect for a mouse.

It’s this place I now reside,

An old fashioned kind of dwelling,

A big, big farm,

That immediately captivated me with its charm.

I use my magic powers,

To sneak from room to room,

Sometimes I go outside,

And look around with pride,

At this lovely place,

This place where I reside,

Though no one knows my face.

A couple years I’ve been here now,

It’s owned by a Grand Lady,

Who was born in Haiti.

Unknowingly crumbs drop at her feet,

And the minute she’s gone,

They are mine to eat.

Everything I’ll ever need is here,

This Lady from Haiti provides for me well,

I live like a queen,

While remaining unseen.

When outside I snack,

There’s animal feed aplenty,

I’ve never a need,

To store food in my pack.

I bathe in the pond,

With the ducks I’ve formed a bond,

And when I get weary,

Of the same ol’ same ol’,

I take a midnight stroll,

I head into the city,

And come back with stacks,

Of new clothes in a sack.

I am Mandy Mouse,

I live the high life now,

Thanks to this Lady from Haiti,

Though she does not know,

That she is my host,

To her,

I propose a toast.

Afterlife Daydream

By and by,

When I die,

My biggest hope,

Is to become a Ghost.

As death does not end life,

Becoming a Ghost,

I could live forever,

Causing harmless strife.

Yes when I die,

That’s what I want most,

Is to become a Ghost.

If I was a Ghost,

What would I do?

You bet your ass,

I would haunt you.

I’d have to first be sure,

To hunt for those who once wronged me,

Work before play,

You know what they say.

Revenge I would seek,

You bet I would find you,

Then what I endured,

You yourself would experience,

No less than times two.

After retribution has been inflicted,

An eye for an eye,

To all the mean guys,

This life after death,

Would be a shit ton of fun,

Forever and ever,

Until the afterworld’s end.

I’d do things like lace the tea,

Of an overly virtuous person,

With just a little bit of whiskey,

For absolutely no reason,

And I’d make it a point,

To change someone’s Christmas decorations,

To some meant more for the Halloween season.

Just humorous pranks,

Such as switching the lights off and on,

At the home of some skank,

Or stopping an elevator,

With a haughty person inside,

Scaring them so they’d scream,

And wound their pride.

I’d execute tricks kind of creepy,

Like screw with a bartender,

When their back is turned,

I’d uncover all the bottles,

At some popular Tiki,

Next I’d drain the gas tank to strand,

A customer there who’s perverted and freaky.

Only time will tell,

If I get to become,

What I’d like most,

If I get to become a Ghost.

I bet if it’s here I stay,

So much fun will be had,

Years will go by like days.

Where’s Your Sock?

Stockings are not always hung,

‘By the chimney with care’,

As there are some that just don’t care,

If even they are there.

There are Hard-Hearted Hannahs,

These bitches are mean as the Grinch,

And hurting you or I without reason,

Won’t even make them flinch.

Though their stockings may be hung,

The care is definitely not there,

From when they were very young,

Other’s holiday cheer,

Always would perish,

When they would draw near.

Then also we have Scrooges,

These fuckers are privileged but blind,

All they want they’ve got,

But for others,

Not a thing will get bought.

Their stockings will never be hung,

And more thoughtless words,

Could not be flung,

Though they are transparent,

They think we do not know,

That inside their heads,

Only praises to themselves are sung.

Remember too the god damned Indifferent,

They should not be forgotten,

These mediocre people,

Most are so unenthusiastic,

And a lot tend to be sarcastic.

Still some have stockings hung,

And it makes them feel fantastic,

The ones who don’t may be mistaken,

By a stranger for a Scrooge,

But those they’re close to know,

That stranger is a stooge.

Yet the ones who most don’t care,

If even they are there,

Are our four-legged furry friends,

The Most Exquisite Creatures,

To walk upon this Earth.

For sure their stockings would be hung,

If they knew they should be there,

Unfortunately they look to be ones who just don’t care,

If even they are there,

But they would care the most,

If they knew they should be there.

Santa Claus’s Cookie Paws

You all know of Santa,

You know of his Deer and his Elves,

But there’s something I doubt you’ve yet heard,

He’s added another to North Pole’s herd.

She is long and she is low,

Her fur is red,

With a little white,

And she loves Mr. Santa,

With all her might.

From the beginning of time,

‘Til a few hundred years ago,

Santa needed just Reindeer and Elves,

To keep toys piled high,

On the Royal Toy Factory’s shelves.

Then came a day,

When Santa got bored,

He thought to himself,

“I deserve a reward.”

“I need someone to share the cookies,

I need someone who’ll always be available,

When the Deer and the Elves,

Are completely unbearable.”

So there is the reason,

For this lovely Christmas town,

To have welcomed a dog,

Appearing to be a dachshund.

Named Cookie Paws,

By Santa himself,

For peanut-butter caramel cookies,

The yummiest treats,

To pass through his jaws.

Miz Cookie has become,

An everlasting fixture here,

Reindeer, Elves, and Santa,

All are happier with her near.

This little beast is loved,

She fits in very well,

No one she meets,

Is immune to her spell.

Cookie Paws proves very useful,

As Santa’s Main Companion,

She keeps him feeling youthful.

Always for them,

A grand time is had,

And sometimes their activities,

Are just this side of bad.

Taste-testing all the cookies,

With Santa at her side,

Is a daily entertainment,

And luckily for Cookie Paws,

North Pole is a Fairy Town,

So this will not affect her size.

Twice-weekly practice,

For the famous Christmas Eve Run,

Is quite a lot of fun,

Mr. Santa hitches up his sleigh,

To help keep boredom in the barn at bay.

Across the sky they shoot,

Invisible when airborne,

Where they will go,

Only the Deer know.

When the chosen rooftop has been reached,

And Santa Claus has parked,

The Reindeer get fed hay,

So Santa Claus and Cookie Paws,

Can be on their way.

“Because” reasons Santa,

“Damned if I’ll waste this trip!

It’s not often I get to explore,

When I’m parked in this zip.”

Cookie Paws at his side,

Both rested from the ride,

So much for them to see and do,

When they’re amongst me and you.

Mr. Santa’s pretty clever,

Once they’re on the ground,

His famous Red Suit,

Disappears without a sound,

So now he’s just like us,

And there will be no fuss.

Around the city they go,

To the beaches and shops and malls,

They tour until Cookie Paws is about to fall.

Then some evenings there are Cocoa Dances,

In the massive Field Of Nuts And Chocolates,

At the center of this Field,

There is a tremendous run-in,

With open sides to let the sun in.

Located between Santa’s Palace and the Royal Toy Factory,

All of North Pole gathers in harmony,

With its barbeque pit,

And marble floors,

For one and all,

The Cocoa Dances are a hit.

Mr. Santa grills dinner for everyone,

And the Elves load up on spiked hot chocolate,

Then they dance the night away,

With Miz Cookie as deejay.

After all of these activities,

It’s time for home and bed,

They need cookies and they need rest,

Ten hours is best,

So they’ll have energy to be around,

Long after we are dead.

Family Gathering

Thanksgiving is here,

For some a time of cheer,

For others a time of fear,

Because family is near.

They come from all over,

From their little sections of Earth,

To spend time by your hearth.

This can be fun,

Or a reason to run,

I guess it depends,

On if you are friends.

There is food and there is drink,

Tempers are on the brink,

The things some will say,

May make you throw up in the sink.

Just try to endure,

And with any luck,

There will be alcohol,

To help it go by in a blur.

Perchance you are of a family,

Who actually has fun,

How strange this is,

For us who’d rather run.

You’ll have turkey,

You’ll have pie,

No one will tell a lie,

Everyone just eats their fill,

And then sits back with a sigh.

But for the majority,

That’s just wishful thinking,

Day’s end will have them feeling,

Like a minority,

The day will be long,

And so many things will go wrong.

Dad will be rude,

He’ll eat way too much food,

Brother will mean well,

But still he’ll make you feel like Hell,

Mom and sister will do their best,

But won’t be able to prevent,

The inevitable unrest.

Voices will be raised,

And feelings will be hurt,

With all that goes awry,

It’s fortunate that fists don’t fly.

So this is Thanksgiving,

It’s what it has come to,

Imagine the Pilgrims of long ago,

What would they think,

Of our little zoo?

Flash back to that 17th Century Feast,

Year 1621,

This shit just wasn’t done,

Their meal was scant,

Just their own harvest and fowl,

Still they were joyous,

Not one wore a scowl,

If they were to come back,

Surely we’d give them a heart attack.

Morbid Life Of A Snowflake

One small flake,

In the first fallen snow,

How will my life go?

Will I stay where I landed?

Or get blown by a blizzard,

Into the city,

Where fumes can make me unpretty?

The life of a snowflake,

Can be horrid or blessed,

From that first fallen snow,

Are any flakes left,

At the end of the season?

Or did they all disappear,

Seemingly without reason?

Some of us die off in a week,

The weather warms,

Making us weak,

And then it’s off,

To that final sleep.

Others land on a car,

After falling so far,

Our lives end in a flash,

Crushed by tires or wipers,

How fast it is over,

As if eaten by vipers.

It’s scary to think,

We could land on a hidden stair,

And get crushed by the boot,

Of whoever resides in that lair.

I hope I get lucky,

I hope when I fall,

I fall in a yard,

Untouched by things sucky.

Maybe then someone will shape me,

Into a ball,

And after I’m smashed,

I can peacefully rest,

Where I may fall.

Perhaps a child will form me,

Into a fort,

And until Springtime I’ll be,

His secret resort.

A little girl may get the notion,

To make a snowman,

Part of him I will be,

And avoid the trash can.

Anything to escape the plow truck,

And get pushed into a bank,

Then turn into muck,

From snow white to slate grey,

On the side of a highway.

And when temperatures rise,

But before flowers bloom,

My life is over,

It’s time for our doom.

Food For Thought

Inside my fucked up head,

Many things get said,

Why is that man called Ted?

Why does she wear the color red?

Inside my fucked up head,

The thoughts go on and on,

Why is a baby deer a fawn?

Why do horses eat the lawn?

Inside my fucked up head,

Oh the thoughts that cross my mind,

Why do watermelons have a rind?

Why are good people so hard to find?

Inside my fucked up head,

The wheels are always turning,

Why are schools made for learning?

Why are politicians so greedy about earning?

Inside my fucked up head,

Lots of crazy thoughts abound,

Why are innocents locked in the pound?

Why are wack jobs free to roam around?

Inside my fucked up head,

All these thoughts are swimming,

Why is baseball played in innings?

Why do some have trouble winning?

Inside my fucked up head,

Thoughts float freely everywhere,

Why is that thing a polar bear?

Why does that boy not have a care?

Inside my fucked up head,

All sorts of thoughts do linger,

Why did she become a singer?

Why does he deserve my middle finger?

Inside my fucked up head,

There are even thoughts in limbo,

Why is a blonde assumed a bimbo?

Why is there a doggie looking out that window?

Everything that’s said,

Inside my fucked up head,

I hope one day my mind,

Will finally unwind,

Hopefully before I’m dead,

Inside my fucked up head.