Ocean Drama

Wow that’s really,
Beyond belief!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Rolling his eyes,
At the fishie,
The coral reef,
Asked hey what’s up,
And could you please,
Get to the point already.

You remember that blue whale,
Who went to Yale?
Well he just put up a sign,
Saying our Ocean,
Is for sale!

You don’t say!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Well thanks anyway!
For ruining,
A delightful day!

Yes way!
I do say!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

All ears now,
The coral reef,
Said to the fishie,
What shall we do?
I don’t want to live,
Owned like it’s a zoo!

I guess it’s up to,
Me and you!
We must save the day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
With some dismay.

I’ll think on it,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
We must act quick!
If our plans,
Are to be,
Worth a lick!

So the fishie,
And the coral reef,
Thought and thought,
Hoping that in the meantime,
Their Ocean,
Would not get bought.

Time is running out!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Just swam by,
With a stingray,
Who assured him,
He could pay!

Oh please help!
The coral reef prayed,
To the Mermaid God,
Whose name was Maud.

Cross your fins,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That legal papers,
Do not begin!

What about if we,
Invite them both for tea?
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
We can use the cafe,
At the bottom of the sea!

Yes! Yes! That’s an impressive idea!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Spelled tea and tortilla,
If it changes their minds,
We are not committing a crime!

I’ll go and make arrangements,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
And come right back,
When I’ve planned the whole entertainment.

I’ll be right here,
Waiting to hear,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

Ok! Ok!
Have a splendid,
Rest of your day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
While waving a fin,
And swimming away.

Only two days had passed,
When the fishie came back,
My that was fast!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

The cafe,
At the bottom of the sea,
Is willing to play host,
To avoid tragedy!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

We must hail,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
And invite the stingray and him,
To go for a swim!

Together they called on Maud,
Who summoned the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Now we must hope,
That it’s a short wait,
For him to answer the God,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

The Mermaid God Maud,
Sent an answer straight away,
They’d meet the fishie there,
Tomorrow at noon,
So he’d best go and prepare.

Slap me five,
And I wish you luck,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
For it’s up to you,
To be sure our plans don’t fall through.

Away he went,
With little less than a day,
Before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray,
Would eat the tea and tortilla,
Spelled by the Mermaid God Maud.

Around about eleven,
The blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Swam by the coral reef,
The stingray following close behind,
And both of them,
Seemed eager to dine.

Soon they were out of sight,
Headed to the Ocean’s bottoms,
And the coral reef,
Hoped the fishie,
Was able to carry out the plans,
In a way that went awesome.

Far far down,
On the Ocean Floor,
The cafe proprietor,
Prepared tea and tortillas,
And before the guests arrived,
The spell sent by Maud,
The Mermaid God,
Was tucked inside.

Welcome! Welcome! Greeted the fishie,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray.

Continued he hotly,
I hear some changes,
Are being arranged!
Tell me about,
Your plan to exchange hands,
And how you want to replace dear Maud,
With this here fraud!

The speech was addressed,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And at the end a pointed look given,
To the stingray,
Neither of whom,
Seemed to know what to say.

So they swam rapidly,
For the door,
But the proprietor,
Had locked it long before,
Said he to everyone,
Let’s sit and partake,
Of what I’ve worked hard to prepare,
And talk about this,
Rather than throw these fits.

Plates and cups were passed around,
With little red dots,
On the ones meant,
To change the guest’s minds and hearts,
And here the fishie said,
Let’s first take time to drink and devour,
It sounded polite and accommodating,
But was really meant to give time,
For the spell to work its power.

It wasn’t long before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Was followed calmly out the door,
By his ex client the stingray,
Neither one remembering,
What they had come there for.

They had no memories,
From the past few weeks,
This had been assured by Maud,
When she was asked to seek,
The best sort of spell,
To save all who call the ocean home,
From a living hell.

It’s done! It’s done!
We’re safe and can still have fun!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Wow that’s really,
A relief!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That could have been,
Such a disaster,
But now it doesn’t matter,
And at that they heard in the distance,
The Mermaid God’s silky laughter.

How To Make Santa Angry

A polar bear,

Without a care,

Was skating mindlessly across the ice,

Thinking about a steaming bowl of something nice,

When down swooped a pigeon,

Who tried to get him to join up,

With some cultish religion.

He turned quickly around,

To get away,

From that awful sound,

And that’s when he heard,

The most welcome noise,

As it ran past him,

So swiftly it was blurred.

It was his good friend,

Elvis Elf,

The one he cared most for,

Besides himself,

And he was singing a version,

Of Jingle Bells,

That would have had Mr. Pigeon,

Saying he was doomed to the Hells.

“Peter White”,

Said Elvis,

When he was close enough to be heard,

“I dare you to help me make Old Santy mad,

Let’s make this song of mine,

A new North Pole Christmas fad”!

And there Elvis began to sing:

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

Laughing,

But at the same time horrified,

He agreed,

To cooperate,

I’ll make it known here,

That this polar bear,

Had a personality snare,

That prevented him,

From turning down a dare.

So the two put their heads together,

To plan what might be best,

As the elf had a vendetta,

With Mr. Santa,

To get off his chest,

And of course the bear,

Was excited to prove,

He was not too pussy,

To perform such a measly dare.

It took some doing,

But their brains finally did figure out,

A way to easily go about,

Making the wild tune,

Something all the North Pole’s peoples,

Would willingly shout.

Old Rudy was taken,

To a cabin long forsaken,

Peter stood watch,

To be sure he got,

The best possible care,

And to make sure,

If any others came by,

His roar would give them,

A gigantic scare.

Elvis distributed a bulletin,

With the lyrics of his shocking song,

And advising,

If they wanted their lead deer back,

They would have it learned,

By the time dawn cracks,

A fortnight from now,

And at the end was written a post script,

Warning if they breathed a word to the Head Man,

They risked being whipped.

It was a different sort of missive,

That got delivered,

To Old Santy and his wife,

It started out “Dear Sir and Ma’am”,

And ended with,

“If you’re not there,

It will cut through our hearts like a knife,

Love and kisses,

Signed,

Your Faithful Elves”.

All day every day rehearsals were held,

Meeting in little groups,

To keep the Boss from finding out,

Yes it would be a most unwelcome time,

For him to start nosing about.

With a foreboding feeling,

All learned each and every line,

And before they knew,

It was time to assemble,

In front of the grove of pines.

The morning of the singing,

Turned out bright and sunny,

And not knowing the truth,

Both Clause’s put on cheery finery,

So they would look their best,

When they went to see,

What pleasures were planned for them,

By these little darlings,

Who barely came up to their knees.

When they pulled up to the pine grove,

Things were very quiet,

So much so,

That against all the brightness and snow,

It seemed almost eerie.

There before them sat,

Rows and rows of elves,

Still and silent as the ones,

Who sit upon your shelves.

In just a moment,

Elvis stepped up to the sleigh,

“Now out you get you two,

And follow me this way”,

He said sans a greeting,

Then walked off towards the special seating.

Soon the Jolly Man and his woman,

Were settled in to watch,

“How blessed we are”,

Whispered He to Her,

But how fast this changed,

To “Let’s get ourselves the fuck out of here”!

When at Elvis’s urging,

All those threatened elves began to sing.

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

And then from around the corner,

Darted the red-nosed reindeer,

For whom during the past two weeks,

The Clause’s had lived in fear,

Of never seeing again,

And he proceeded to tell them all,

About the how’s and why’s,

Of his sudden kidnapping.

Meanwhile the song was coming to an end:

“Jingle all the way,

Oh it’s fun to take and hide,

The one who leads the Sleigh”……….

In Elvis’s eyes,

Things were at long last even,

Between him and the Big Man,

Tit for tat,

After last Christmas’s embarrassment,

He had finally taken a stand.

Oh though,

What an oops this was on his part!

To assume all would resume,

Business as usual,

After that knife he just purposely thrust,

Straight through Santa’s heart.

He thought himself high and mighty,

But Santa was just waiting,

For him to go night-nighty,

Then with a little Christmas Land Magic,

Elvis was modified,

Into a figure most tragic.

When he awoke,

A monster stared back from his mirror,

And as the day wore on,

The fact it was no joke,

Became increasingly clearer.

He was then banished,

To guard the North Pole’s secret entrance,

Their own abominable snowman,

Who walks with a limp,

And a candy cane club,

Being deemed unpardonable,

By both the Clause’s,

For certain there’s nothing,

That can cure this curse.

What In The HELL?

One day,

Out of the blue,

Two tiny marks were noticed,

Upon a thumb,

“Where the fuck,

Did these come from”!?

Was the thought,

Until the mind,

Was practically numb.

Little brownish red dots,

That looked a lot like tiny birthmarks,

Why were they,

Never noticed before?

They couldn’t be recent

But they weren’t remembered,

As being there,

Just a year or two before.

Into the head came a notion,

Was this proof of past lives?

Once someone had said,

The fear of certain fanged brutes,

Was likely due to being bitten,

While alive,

In another lifetime,

And this is why,

The feeling of panic,

While in their presence,

Never subsided,

No matter how much,

Time had elapsed.

In theory,

Fang marks,

Are only made,

By things infected by dark,

But are they really polluted?

Because after all,

They had ancestors once,

On Noah’s Ark.

There was strong suspicion that they might,

Be from a snake bite,

There was,

After all,

The infliction of a phobia,

But was that all paranoia?

Or was that fear founded by an incident,

And therefore legitimate?

Though there are tons of creatures,

Sporting fangs,

Not all result,

In the night terrors,

For instance,

It’s known a house cat,

Would not do that,

But who’s to say,

They weren’t wandering in the jungle,

And met head on,

By a lion?

But oh yes,

That jungle beast’s mouth,

Would be too big to leave these marks,

That little kitty though,

Righto! – that one’s a maybe……………

At one point in the past,

Could there have been a Mer,

Who played in ponds,

And swam in seas?

So many creepy critters,

Occupy these places,

And many are with,

Tiny fanged faces,

Yes this one is actually,

A real possibility……………

Very well,

I’ll admit there is no way here,

To be totally and absolutely sure,

Just the same,

These marks are pointing favorably,

Toward this being right,

It’s so strange they seemed to surface,

Pretty much overnight,

Even so I think it’s clear,

These marks were put,

On a former version of a self,

By the object of their deepest fear.

May You Rest In Peace

*************************

Come,

Take a leap,

And fall asleep,

Enter Dream Land,

Where reality can’t hurt,

But fantasy can……….

*************************

Destination: Dream Land,

It’s a second reality,

That hides behind the mask of sleep,

It’s a mixed-up mess,

With Sweet Dreams and Nightmares,

And of course,

We’ve all been there.

Smiling merrily,

All of us go voluntarily,

Once we’re tucked in,

And headed off towards Slumber,

One comes for us,

Then we come back,

Either rested or distressed.

But even when you’re far away,

You are here to stay,

Your mind has gone some place,

And there,

It your body cannot chase.

It’s so funny,

This thing called Sleep,

Every night you journey there,

Wondering if Dreams await,

Or if you’ll come face to face,

With yet another Nightmare.

A lucky break,

An escape,

From day-to-day idiocy,

At least that’s what you hope to find,

When you reach the place,

Where Nightmares and Dreams collide.

But when you drift off,

You may be disturbed,

By mysterious entities,

That tend to catch you unawares,

And the only avenue of escape,

Is to wake up scared.

This state of going dormant,

It’s really quite important,

So try not to feel dread,

Just because you may encounter,

Someone or thing who’s been long dead.

No don’t try to fight it,

For if you hesitate,

You may make the Nightmares mad,

And so be met with hostility,

Rather than tranquility.

By all means,

Tonight you might see Monsters,

Creeping up from below stairs,

Yet also lurks,

The possibility of Good Fortune,

Sending you Dreams of fuzzy bears.

There’s a fifty-fifty chance,

You could Dream of fun or romance,

So relax,

And hope all remains okay,

When you hit the hay.

One Halloween Night…….

A bad, bad being,

Was out hunting for a body,

The preference was,

One that was already dying,

It seems around these parts,

The sickly were pretty scarce.

He was running out of time,

For finding the perfect find,

Then the very next night,

In his sights,

Came two who caused him,

Great delight.

One a grandmother type,

And one a tri-colored flop-eared little dog,

Most of his sort,

Would just walk on by,

With a scornful snort,

But he was too relieved to gripe.

So,

Hiding behind a tree,

He started on his take-you-over chant,

But just as his soul,

Was about to start the dance,

That would have it infiltrate hers,

The dog stopped to pee,

And all went crazy.

The distance got misjudged,

And the next thing the little devil knew,

He was looking at the world,

From a four-legged view.

From this point on,

He resented the old woman,

He swore,

To concoct a plan,

And she would get ran,

Out of house and home.

Many times,

As he sat there by the lady’s side,

He passed scheme after scheme,

Through his mind,

But boy,

Lately it was tough doing magic,

Being a dog,

Was proving to be tragic,

Years and years went by,

But he was innocently outfoxed,

At every try.

One night,

He was in an especially rotten mood,

There had always been strange nighttime noises,

They seemingly came from inside the wall,

Being a demon,

This did not bother him,

But he decided it was getting,

High time to scout it out.

Using his seeing spell,

He projected his vision,

Until its strength was supernatural,

And what he saw was to him shocking,

It wasn’t the expected ghosts or goblins.

There was another world inside the wall,

And the fireplace was a portal,

To a land filled with mortals,

It set you down in a particularly pretty room,

In the upstairs of a mansion,

“Oh”!, thought he,

With sarcasm and glee,

“Wouldn’t it be a shame,

If I were to open this thing up,

And she just happened to fall in”?

But he did not get what he sought,

After he opened up the wall,

He thought for sure he could banish,

The pesky busy-body,

But she did not vanish!

She stepped back inside,

Carrying in her hands another,

And that is when his troubles multiplied.

Oh damn it all to hell!

This did not go well!

She was supposed to go there and get stuck,

My plan has gone amok!

It looks like it took too long to close the wall,

And during the stall,

She found her way back inside,

He gave a single sigh and rolled his eyes,

So much for a midnight escape,

And an all-night traipse,

There’d be no new-body search tonight,

He was still a prisoner,

And stuck forever in this self-imposed scrape.

**************************************************************************************

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Has a hut in the wall,

And a great swoosh of power,

Sweeps over it,

Every night,

Around the witching hour.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Spends her life,

Decorating a table-top,

Because she hasn’t got legs,

In which to hop off.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Being a little loopy,

Doesn’t even realize,

That her place is spooky.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Is so used to hearing,

Strange noises in the night,

That at first this really vital one,

Didn’t even cause her any fright.

One evening,

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Was sitting in front,

Of her roaring hearth,

In the oven she had baking,

A vanilla bundt,

Her knitting needles,

Were clicking and clacking,

And at her side as always,

Lay her faithful beagle.

At this same moment,

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Was settling in,

For a cozy rest,

When her table-top unexpectedly,

Began to spin.

Mrs. Wall Nut’s mind,

For a time became foggy,

If you could see her,

She was clearly gone,

Though she was sitting right there,

And when she came to,

All she could do,

Was sit there,

With a blank stare.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

When her table-top stopped turning,

Couldn’t believe,

What her eyes were seeing,

The sky-blue wall,

Where the alluring artwork always hung,

It was gone,

And in its place,

Was just a hazy grey space.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Couldn’t be sure,

So she shook her head,

But by then,

They grey she still swears she saw,

Had dissipated,

And in its place,

Was not her fireplace,

But a king-sized room,

Fancy and great.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Before her very eyes,

Saw a whole world,

Where there used to be a wall,

It’s startled her so,

That she yelped in surprise.

Mrs. Wall Nut started,

When she heard a yelp,

Then glanced wildly around,

For whomever may have made,

The hideous sound,

But seeing no one,

She assumed that maybe,

They had hopefully,

Already departed.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

May have seemed calm and quiet,

But inside her head,

There was quite the riot,

As she slowly looked,

From side to side,

For any place,

A wall might hide.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Finally got a grip,

She carefully stood up,

So as not to trip,

Then she felt a mechanical force,

From an unknown source,

Forcing her forward,

So she took a shaky step,

Into that room,

Hoping through her brain fog,

That it would not be her doom.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Was finally thinking clearly,

Just as she,

Was about to pinch herself severely,

To know for sure,

She was indeed awake,

Something grabbed her pot,

In a very tight grasp,

Then she was brought,

Into That Place Beyond The Grey Space,

And placed upon a table,

Beside a still-hot cake.

Mrs. Wall Nut sighed,

Well,

At least she had not died,

When she set foot,

On that Other Side,

Then she took a look around and got frantic,

“Oh no!

Where is my dog?

Please say he was not swept off,

With the fog”!?

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Could not stay quiet anymore,

And so called out to,

The grey-haired human,

Standing at,

The cupboard door.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Still unsuccessful at finding,

The missing mutt,

Now made a sound of dismay,

“Oh great”,

She muttered,

“It looks like the pretty thing,

Is alive more than,

Your normal flower,

What else could possibly,

Go awry today,

What in tarnation is causing,

The moving of,

Such awful powers”?

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Felt her temper flare,

That the little lady would dare,

Ignore her address,

Oh yes,

She thought with a smirk,

I know where the doggone dog is,

But I’ll not say,

‘Cuz this bitch is a jerk!

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Sat down and cut herself,

A big slice of cake,

Then as she began to eat,

Her plate started to shake,

She looked to her right,

And her new red plant,

Was sprouting arms and legs,

Then she looked to her left,

And spotted her beagle,

With a look on his face,

Of pure evil.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Was starting to feel bad,

As her capturer,

Was looking scared and sad,

So when the woman sat down,

To have herself a little snack,

She was about to politely,

Introduce herself,

When the dog crossed his eyes,

And smacked his tail to the wall,

With a deafening whack,

Which was a spell to make the flower,

Start to feel sour.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Had now lost her appetite,

And she began to think,

That what she might need was a walk,

But before she could leave,

The flower stood up,

And started to talk.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Now felt better,

And was able to make nice,

With the little old lady,

But now how to tell her,

That her beloved pet,

Was out to get her?

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Couldn’t believe her ears,

She had had that animal,

For hundreds of years,

Though it had crossed her mind,

More than a few times,

To wonder at the fact,

That he had not aged nor died.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Here’s what she told her:

“I’ve been eyeing your dog,

Since I was brought,

Through the fog,

And let me tell you,

That’s not a dog,

He is a monster,

That needs to be,

Led to slaughter,

Or you’re gonna,

Be a goner”.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Hated to lose her pet,

But she could see it was true,

He was Evil defined,

Masquerading as,

A sweet canine,

And it was time to bid,

This one adieu.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Other than the pup’s vendetta,

Aimed at her new acquaintance,

Was relishing this new adventure,

But it was slightly boring,

So on a whim,

She decided to test,

Her new limbs.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Heard a scraping sound,

And when she turned around,

Her new friendly flower,

Was climbing downward,

She held her breath,

But the freakish thing stayed steady,

And did not fall to her death.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Laughed delightedly,

These things known as arms and legs,

Using them,

Was proving to be easy.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Then offered up a hand,

And together those two,

Went out-of-doors,

To speak in peace,

On the white-sand beach.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Picked out a small table,

Underneath a bright blue,

Flamingo-covered umbrella,

Where she spoke her condolences,

For how the beagle,

Was actually a threat,

Rather than a dear pet.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Prattled and babbled,

Of course she knew inside,

It would not be her old companion that died,

For of course he was no longer,

A dog at all,

But an evil entity,

Who had used her old pet for,

An possessable body.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Was relieved,

When they had a plan in place,

Although she did feel dreadful,

At her friend’s downcast face.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Went back into her hut,

And pretending ignorance,

She beckoned the dog to follow,

While trying not to boohoo.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Was ready and waiting,

With the bait,

And before they knew it,

It had sealed his fate.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

She was surprised,

At how she felt nothing,

When life left those eyes,

But as if it were part of the magic,

When the thing left,

It’s like it committed theft,

It stole her loving emotions,

And forever broke her ties,

Of devotion.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

She was relieved,

At seeing the disintegration,

Of the elderly woman’s,

Supposed companion,

But of course this meant,

The curse that had been cast,

And held her fast,

Was the dog’s last,

And going back,

To her own side of the wall,

Now may not be,

Possible at all.

Mrs. Wall Nut,

Without a doubt sympathized,

Although that anyone may want,

To leave her hut,

Took her by surprise.

Henrietta Pointsetta,

Soon settled in,

She learned this seaside tropic,

Was a fairy town,

Surrounded on all sides by ocean,

And soon her frown,

Permanently turned,

Upside down,

She even took a job,

At Beach Bum Burgers,

Serving the sort of treats,

She had doctored up,

For the little dog’s murder.

He’s Nothing To Worry About

Hello out there,

To those who care,

Let me please introduce,

Master Bruce,

The celebrated ghost,

With a unique flair,

For inflicting Scare.

He is just typical,

For one of his kind,

What is above average though,

Is his mind,

But yea,

As far as looks go,

He is kind of wispy,

And white as new fallen snow.

Not old at all,

As he was young when he took,

That fatal fall,

Yet he feels older than dirt,

For it’s been a hundred years and more,

Since he went out,

With one last painful roar.

Now death is not usually lonely,

But when you are left to hover,

And cannot cross over,

To those shores called Glory,

You will discover,

It is a different story.

*************************

Some years past now,

There lived a marvelous up-and-coming gentleman,

Whose life seemed to come together,

With nary a hitch,

It made his fellows envious,

How he didn’t need to earn his chow,

By the sweat of his brow,

This privileged person,

Was of course,

Our Master Bruce.

There came an evening,

When he was but twenty-four,

That he felt a need,

To be out-of-doors,

And he decided to go for it,

Despite the nasty down-pour,

Happening out there.

He took precautions,

Wearing slicker and galoshes,

But nothing can compensate,

If it is your fate,

And the hour being late,

When he went to dodge that horseless carriage,

He could not see,

That the roadside there,

Had been washed away,

So here he tripped,

Landing on his knees,

Then another automobile came by,

And his body was clipped,

Just as he was rising.

He whooped in pain,

But the driver never heard it,

On account of the rain,

So he continued on,

And within minutes,

Bruce’s life here was gone.

*************************

Key word there being ‘here’,

Because his body was done for,

But lo,

His spirit was stuck,

And never went anywhere.

*************************

It took some time,

For him to see it was true,

He was now a part of the world,

In which he had never believed,

He’s now one of,

The paranormal crew.

He didn’t like it a bit,

And developed into something malevolent,

The things he did,

Were downright awful,

For instance,

When he made an engine fail,

And sent a car,

Over the rail.

*************************

There came a time,

About 1949,

That the Nightmare King,

Caught wind of him,

And decided he would be an asset,

A perfect vessel,

To carry his Dreams Of Threats.

It was great,

For a time,

Delivering these Scares,

Being the cause,

Of raising hairs,

By giving people nightmares.

But he’s starting to see now,

Just how long eternity is,

And dishing out nightmares,

Has become to him,

So unimaginative.

He’s becoming restless,

And of late when it storms,

He’s been returning to the site,

That still fills him with spite.

Now without fail,

You can hear him wail,

While he paces,

Back and forth,

Slow and steady,

Like a snail.

*************************

Now what’ll he do,

To fill the endless hours,

Of his afterlife?

Will he turn even more sour,

And try to possess,

Evil powers?

Dare we hope,

He will turn from strife,

And pick up something civil,

Such as playing the fife?

Now Wouldn’t That Be Brilliant

Imagine having the ability,

To become invisible,

With a clap of the hands,

Or the blow of a whistle,

What a pleasure it would be,

To get to do things,

Not otherwise permissible.

Certain situations,

Can get awfully sticky,

And to seem to fade out in a puff,

Would be a pretty convenient tricky.

Remaining hidden,

While being there unbidden,

Would be better than riches,

Even if it had some glitches.

Learning secrets,

Not meant for my ears,

Would be a priceless talent,

Maybe even enabling me,

To fuck with an event’s sequence.

I wonder,

In this situation,

Would strangers mistake me for a spirit?

If I were to walk in invisible,

Then reverse the spell,

And say an unexpected salutation?

How suitable it would be,

To be admitted for free,

Thanks to them not seeing,

The body that’s me,

And so they’d be,

Screwed out of a fee.

I dare say it would be,

Good practice for death,

At least that is so,

If you believe in becoming a presence,

After you’ve breathed your last breath.

Well I think that about covers it,

There’s no need to elaborate more on the subject,

By now you ought to get the picture,

Of how life could be richer,

And I suppose it will do me no good,

To speculate,

Of how wonderful it would be,

To possess this fine trait,

But I’d like it anyhow,

If I could make this happen,

Right here right now.

The Little Chick Had To Fly

I’m a little yellow chick,

Who once worked alongside,

The Easter Rabbit,

I helped him decide,

What to put in all the baskets,

I really tried,

But it did not suit me,

So I took a ride.

I hopped a train,

And got off,

At its tenth stop,

Where I ran into a cop,

Holding up a blue umbrella,

‘Cuz it was pouring down rain.

Being a chick,

From a Fairyland,

I could read,

So I found a sign,

Telling me I was in the Big Apple,

How divine!

I took up a residence,

In Central Park,

Where I made friends with a frog,

Who hangs out,

With a loud crowd,

We sometimes like to trip,

People out for a jog,

Or startle a dog,

And make him bark.

One night while out,

On the town,

I got an idea,

Out of the blue,

And on each chicken leg,

I got a tattoo,

One is a lion,

The other is a lamb,

Man I’m loving the city,

And my legs so pretty!

I became very fond,

Of the hustle and bustle,

And the worldly ways,

But I still kept Easter,

In my heart of hearts,

Though I made room too,

For other things to have a part.

I eventually built up my place,

Into a regular chicken mansion,

That was very handsome,

Full of furniture and such,

Of the latest fashions.

Now I realized I had,

Too much time on my hands,

So I took a job,

At a hotdog stand,

Where I heard lots of music,

And got interested,

In joining a band.

So my frog friend,

And the rest of our circle,

Got ourselves up our own band,

We played Christmas music,

And our frontman was a turtle,

Oh how this would make,

Those Easterland Creatures lose it!

The years flew by,

Full of fun and fortune,

’til by and by,

I was feeling my age,

And decided to,

Live life with more caution.

That was so many years ago now,

A quarter – century,

To be exact,

That time stuffing baskets,

Is just a distant memory,

Now I work in a factory,

Machining parts for weaponry.

I still go back for Easter,

If I didn’t,

Dear old Mr. Rabbit,

Would have my keister,

I can now appreciate these weeks,

I spend there,

We have a great parade,

Before delivering all the baskets,

Then come home to a smashing party,

And spend hours eating,

And dancing to delightful beats.

But fun as it is,

I’m satisfied,

That I spread my wings,

I’ll never regret,

Doing my own things,

I’m always happiest when I’m again,

At my own dreamy den.

Think Before You Speak

Earl was an eccentric little rabbit,

About which,

Everyone made quite a racket,

He was as ordinary as you please,

Really a lovely fellow,

But there was always talk about,

Him wearing a long black jacket,

And his strange love for eating jello.

Some squirrels say his jacket,

Is to aide him in black magic,

He’s not normal,

And he must be up to tricks,

But the otters believe,

It’s just his blameless lucky charm,

And fits naturally to him,

As much as his own arm.

The rest of them,

All have their own view too,

So I feel I ought,

To clear things up with you:

He’s a fuckin gem!

His many weird habits,

Make him unlike the other rabbits,

Like when he ventures out of the woods,

To stock up on people goods.

While he is gone,

Others quake with fear,

As their minds produce some crazy thoughts,

Of things he may be getting up to,

He just buys innocent things,

Like spinach and whiskey,

And lugs them back,

In a big black sack,

But he keeps his doings on the down-low,

So they get freaked out,

By what they don’t know.

He’s quite the early bird,

Each morning he happily wakes,

Then after putting the coffee on,

Heads outside,

Where he does a wild dance,

And the onlooking deer deem him absurd,

As they look on in a trance.

It’s not totally that tragic though,

See these deer don’t know,

He’s saying some words,

That encourage their meadow grasses to grow.

He won’t partake of his coffee,

Without first reciting a good-luck phrase,

That his mother used to hope,

Would be just a phase,

As it made her hair raise.

I’ll give you that,

Yes this could be a tad odd,

But it has done things amazing,

Like preventing a carelessly tossed match,

From setting their whole wood ablaze.

He grows alfalfa and carrots,

On all sides of his cottage,

And enjoys watching their progress,

During an evening sit,

On his wrap-around terrace.

It’s said he does strange things,

While out there each evening,

The Old Owl is always watching,

And says supposedly his lips move,

But put forth no sound,

And his crazy hand motions,

Have been told of for miles around.

In reality he’s just humming,

Relaxing himself with a merry tune,

While tapping his arm chair,

With his ice cream spoon.

Today he outwitted a tiger,

And stopped him from terrorizing a spider,

The truth’s still being sorted out,

Of just how that came about.

Orlando the Owl swears,

That last evening on his porch,

He saw him do a dance,

While swinging ’round a torch,

So it must have been a spell,

How else,

He asks,

Could he have made a tiger fell?

Truth be told,

If he could have done such a thing,

He’d rather use such excessive powers,

To fill his pockets full of gold.

Sunday is his fun day out,

One week he’ll go here,

And meet an old school peer,

For a game of solitaire,

Another week he may go there,

In search of a new cologne,

To spray upon his hair.

Sandra the Sparrow speculates,

That he does evil on these dates,

Why else,

She says,

Would he wander out so far,

Without taking his flashy car?

But he is not at all about Hell,

She does not know what it is she tells.

Here’s the truth:

He’s out there having fun,

Dodging busy noses,

As they’re trying to find out,

Everything under the blazing sun,

That he’s ever done.

Do you maybe have an Earl,

Somewhere near to where you are?

Are you maybe being less than fair,

While you sit there judging,

From your high and mighty chair?

Some Different Views Of A Shoe

Different eyes,

Light upon the same thing,

In one it ignites joy,

While it makes another’s world spin,

Boy oh boy,

Have you ever considered,

That what’s good for the digger,

May be bad for the chigger?

*************************

I found some new soles,

They are so awesome,

They make my soul sing,

Did u just say something?

I didn’t actually understand a thing,

I was just doing some imagining.

Oh,

Yes I do know,

I’ve a closetful already,

But I must make these beauties mine,

If it costs me my last dime.

Shoes,

They are so exciting,

You must have some in every style,

And each style in at least a few colors,

Buying these will make me smile,

If I run out of space,

I’ll just start putting them in piles.

*************************

A hole tunneled in a crack,

Of a busy sidewalk,

That is my front door,

I like being in the middle,

Of the daily hustle and bustle,

But there is one thing about it that I abhor.

They scare me,

And no matter when,

I need to come or go,

I am greeted by them,

No doubt one day,

One will be the reason for my end.

Some are fast,

And some are slow,

But they’re always going past,

These shoes that encase people’s feet,

Ready to squash a bug like me,

Who dares reside on their main street.

*************************

I’ve made a nest,

In the corner of a cupboard,

I really like it too,

But I may have to move.

Apparently the lady of the house,

She is scared of me,

A teeny-tiny mouse.

She was up early today,

And saw me doing,

My morning dart across the kitchen,

She screamed at me so long and loud,

I clearly saw her pearly whites,

Who knew the little woman,

Could be such a chicken?

Now I’m on one side of the room,

And she is on the other,

I see her taking off her shoe,

To try and bash my head in,

I hope I make it past,

That horrifying thing,

As I make a mad dash for cover.

I made it,

And she had a hissy fit,

I’ve now got an enemy,

And she can whip them off pretty fast,

They are a definite danger to me,

So until I move,

I guess I won’t be sleeping very soundly.

*************************

A big comfortable house,

Where I’m the one and only dog,

I have many toys,

And a bed with lots of blankets,

I’m allowed to make a lot of noise,

And I eat foods fit for a fancy banquet.

I enjoy all of these trappings,

But what I really love to do,

Is chew on a good shoe.

I miss my people when they’re out,

So I sniff around ’til I find something,

That smells strongly of them,

Very good!

They’ve left more shoes lying around,

I wag my tail,

And go to town.