Ghost Dog

I’m here and I’m there,

I’m really everywhere,

I’m the Ghost Dog,

Traveling all around you,

As a paranormal fog.

 

Few have seen the realĀ  me,

As I died back in ’70,

But sometimes I am revealed,

If I notice you,

And you hold me any appeal.

 

I have traveled the country of my birth,

From Bangor to L.A.,

The reactions I get from those who see me,

Often leave me doubled over with mirth.

 

I spend my nights,

At fancy five-star resorts,

I like staying in suites,

Numbered one-thirteen,

But I’ll use two-thirteen,

As a last resort.

 

I stay for free,

‘Cuz when I float through the door,

They can’t see me,

Sneaking across their lobby floor.

 

I like to take a bubble bath,

In the relaxing Jacuzzi hot tub,

Then prowl the kitchen for dinner,

Quietly though,

So as not to cause a hubbub.

 

I’ll then float down the halls,

And out the exit,

I’m headed to the Tiki,

To snag me some fireball.

 

Daytime is even better,

It’s so interesting,

I go to dog parks,

And make friends who wear sweaters.

 

The doggies can see me,

But their owners cannot,

While we jump and growl in play,

All they see,

Is one pup on a leash,

Who’s for naught acting crazy.

 

This amuses me greatly,

Especially this one little old lady,

She one time shrieked at her fur baby,

“Misty stop it!, or I’ll tell Daddy”!

 

Silly things like this,

Make me pleased to be stuck,

Among those forever dwelling,

In an afterlife,

Spent neither in Heaven or in Hell.

 

It’s not often I materialize,

As an apparition,

But when I do,

Behold,

For I am quite the vision.

 

I am shiny red and pretty,

With bright brown eyes,

From time to time,

I lay at the foot of a bed,

So when someone awakes,

They have a surprise.

 

I suppose I’ll go on,

Decade after decade,

Each day busying myself,

With charming others,

From dusk until dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That Crazy Bunny

They call me Easter Rabbit,

And I’m a creature of habit,

I’m around for just a day,

But when I’m gone,

I haven’t really gone away.

 

Where I go,

It is a secret,

But know it’s a happy jolly place,

And when I reappear next year,

Be assured I’ll have made pretty eggs,

To fill each and every basket.

 

Me and the other bunnies,

Keep production flowing all year long,

At the end of a long day,

We tell each other funnies,

While passing around a bong.

 

To quell your curiosity,

About our residence,

It’s an operation and a home,

Kind of like the North Pole,

Except instead of Christmas,

We’ve got Easter in our souls.

 

Though we have similarities,

To Santa and the Elves,

Our businesses have differences,

That reflect our holiday preferences.

 

Carrot cake is baked in place of cookies,

We manufacture eggs instead of toys,

And though Santa’s Deer,

Are some great boys,

To teleport,

Is more my sort.

 

I’m not nearly as picky as Mr. Claus,

Whether you were naughty or nice,

If you celebrate Easter,

I’ll deliver you a basket,

With my own paws.

 

You’d think after five hundred years,

I’d be too tired to wiggle my ears,

And zoom from place to place,

On that one day out of every three-sixty-five,

It seems the whole world,

Wants to see my face,

But I never feel frazzled,

I’m happy to keep up this pace,

As long as the Earth whirls ’round.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trail Ride

It’s a sunny day,

And I can think of no better way,

To pass the time,

Than on the back,

Of this perfect Angel of mine.

 

Though she’s unpredictable,

A day with her could never actually be miserable,

Today she could be totally reliable,

And do anything I ask,

Or go completely wild,

And balk at the most simple task.

 

No one else is invited,

It’s most peaceful like that,

We’re free to amble down the twisted tree-lined paths,

Our faces feeling the wind’s drafts,

All of the anxiety,

That day-to-day struggles can build,

When we’re out here,

It gets killed.

 

Hours pass like minutes out here,

We’ve brought music along,

To give us some cheer,

And save for us,

This place is bare.

 

These horrid times when we’re apart,

I remember days like this,

They live in my mind,

And in my heart.

 

Stuck in different dimensions,

Each other we miss,

But we’ll be together again,

In Heavenly bliss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Animal Haven

A koala and a hare,

Just escaped from a zoo,

All done with sitting pretty for the tourists,

They’re headed to the redwood forest.

 

Among these giant trees,

There is a secret society,

It’s only known to animals,

They’ve been smart and kept it private.

 

In Eureka,

Off of Highway 101,

Amid all the coniferous branches,

They will reach the portal,

To this hidden place of fun.

 

Once they reach the concealed spot,

They spread open boughs and limbs,

This reveals a hidden rock,

Which they jump upon to knock.

 

Their eyes close and they are transported,

To an enormous meadow,

In the middle there’s a spring,

With a never-ending flow.

 

Here wild deer and horses,

Graze together side by side,

Bunnies and mice run around,

Feeling no need to hide.

 

When someone new has come,

To join this secret society,

The residents throw a party,

Called a Uniting Ceremony.

 

Everyone whose home is in this meadow,

Gathers ’round to greet the new arrivals,

Who then are formally welcomed,

By a big black crow.

 

Now they are official members,

Free to come and go,

By day they’ll hang in the Great Meadow,

Then by night they’re free to roam,

The forest full of massive timber.

 

No one knows how it began,

This secret society,

The how or the why that some animals,

First felt the need to hide from Man.

 

But so it will be,

‘Til the end of the world,

If they need an escape,

To there they’ll feel drawn,

And like this koala and this hare,

They’ll make their way there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Valentines Day

I’m sick of bitches bitching,

They’re really grating on my nerves,

On and on they grumble,

As out of their mouths,

Crazy shit does tumble.

 

“I’ve got no Valentines Day date”,

“I received no candy and no flowers”,

“I’m a loser ‘cuz I’m all alone”,

These are annoying things they say,

When they piss and moan,

About this so-called holiday.

 

How pathetic to feel,

That single equals worthless,

All because on this day,

You were not showered with,

A ton of meaningless gifts.

 

Some taken bitches bitch too,

About this petty shit,

They get all agitated,

Their appetite for unimportant things is never sated.

 

Poor, poor her,

She was not wined and dined,

Or showered with things fine,

He did not book a getaway,

Specifically to celebrate,

This so-called holiday,

Now she’s bawling like a calf,

Hating her other half.

 

I’m sorry for you,

If you are the type,

That looks forward to this day,

Along with all the hype.

 

I’ll just sit back and relax,

And chuckle at these dim-witted quacks,

As I am of the opinion,

That there is no reason for today to be celebrated,

It’s altogether overrated.

 

 

 

Actually, You Suck

Mind your business,

You piece of shit,

Too bad for you,

IfĀ  you don’t like it,

It’s my life to live,

And not one fuck is given,

About your opinion.

 

Not being traditional,

Does not warrant a pill,

I think you may just need to chill,

You are not superior,

Just stop being so bossy,

If you don’t want me to act so saucy.

 

My calling is not good enough,

To you it just screams trashy,

God forbid I’m unlike you,

An idiot I must be,

Since I’m lacking your degree,

I guess that must mean,

I could never be ‘perfect’ like you,

You’re just so fuckin’ classy.

 

You assume yourself a saint,

For choosing silence over sound,

On your temper you put a restraint,

Your logic says you appear angelic,

For leaving opinions unsaid,

But I see through this false front you paint,

I see that you’re a prick.

 

I have a problem,

It must be solved with option A or option B,

You insist I should be just like you,

By choosing option C,

But C does not exist for me,

And behind closed doors,

I know your life does not flow smoothly,

Like the false front you paint,

For outsiders to see.

 

A loser you say,

You have this,

I do not have that,

I can see what you’ve got,

You forget I am not blind,

And I can use my own mind,

Here that thing is just not wanted,

And to me that ‘awesome’ thing,

It’s just stupid shit,

So be mad,

Feel hate,

I know all about,

The false front that you paint.

 

What I have my hands have earned,

How it’s spent will be my choice,

As will be anything you hear,

Uttered by my voice,

I do not strive to be a saint,

And a false front I will not paint.

 

Do not expect my sympathy,

Next time Karma comes a-knocking,

You talk shit about me,

When I have a calamity,

I like seeing the tables turned,

Maybe you’ll wake up with newfound empathy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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,

ToĀ hunt forĀ 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’dĀ 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 toĀ become a Ghost.

 

I bet if it’s here I stay,

So much fun will be had,

Years will go by like days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Outstanding Ornament

Back in the 16th century,

These people in Germany,

Their unbusy minds,

Were a little bit loopy,

And so they thought up Me.

 

Me,Ā the Christmas Tree,

The one small piece of forest,

That you enjoy making pretty.

 

For years I’ve been growing,

And I’m just the right size,

Now the ground’s frozen,

And I wait,

To be the one chosen.

 

Mistletoe is festive,

And wreaths can be splendid,

Various other evergreen trimmings,

They too have their place,

But the highest honor,

Is reserved for me,

Me,Ā the Christmas Tree.

 

So many traditions include me,

No matter where you go,

It’s me you will see,

Me, the Christmas Tree.

 

I see a man he is coming,

Wielding saw and axe,

He is walking my way,

Oh please tell me that this isĀ my day,

The day I get chosen.

 

Luck was with me,

I’m chosen,

It’s finally my turn,

Now my people make me pretty,

And I stand here,

As my branches are garnished,

Watching their fireplace burn.

 

It makes me happy to stand here,

Next to their fire,

Me tucked in this corner,

Makes the room feel more cozy and warmer.

 

Where I stand there’s a window,

Outside it is snowing,

Through it I see another,

Its branches a-glowing.

 

This time of year,

We are everywhere,

Some of us tall,

Others sort of small,

Of all the charming decorations,

Aren’t we the best of them all?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mood Seasons

Life’s issues are not your fault,

And you are worth your salt,

Whatever happens,

Whatever you’re told,

You are worth your weight in gold.

 

Sometimes a mind is like Summer,

There are sunny thoughts that manifest,

Until someone has the nerve,

To put a person to the test.

 

Each day starts out as Summer,

When you wake up from your slumber,

If you’re lucky it stays that way,

Until it’s time again to hit the hay.

 

Spring arrives when nothing goes your way,

Apparently today,

Just wasn’t meant to be your day,

Your coffee is cold,

That thing you wanted,

Is already sold.

 

But these are just unimportant matters,

Nothing that will put your life in tatters.

 

Fall showing up is bad,

But not as bad as it could be,

A horrid thing may happen,

It may make you sad,

Or really, really mad.

 

Things like money troubles suck,

Maybe someone hit your truck,

That person you thought you liked,

May have shown that they’re in fact a schmuck.

 

Instead of your temper flaring,

These are difficulties you may not feel like sharing,

You will likely want to be alone,

And if someone comes a-knocking,

You’ll pretend that you’re not home.

 

Never keep Winter bottled up,

For more reasons than one,

If someone decides,

To use you for their fun,

Or stick their nose,

Where it doesn’t belong,

By all means,

Make them feel the need to run.

 

You’ll go crazy if you let them,

Feel like all is well,

When it’s your mind they’re putting through hell.

 

You are not to be made,

To feel less than the best,

You are not to put up with,

Being told how to live,

Remember there are some things,

You should not forgive.