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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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, 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, 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 is 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.

 

 

 

Bad, Bad Bear!

Somewhere out there,

There lives a Teddy Bear,

And he’s dominated by the spirit,

Of Demonic Dominic.

 

This Big Black Bear is black as night,

And he does not live life right,

Those sweet-looking glass brown eyes,

They are his disguise,

They make him seem,

Sweet as pie,

But really he’s on a mission,

A mission to make someone die.

 

The agenda those eyes do conceal,

Is one you’d never guess,

To be fair,

He is a teddy bear,

Not one that’s usually suspected,

Of causing a deadly ordeal.

 

But that face hides more crime,

Than any poker face,

Seen on the Vegas Strip,

So if you happen about,

And you notice this Black Bear,

Please, turn around!

And please, pick up your pace!

 

Normally he is encountered,

Deep inside a forest,

At one of those alluring clearings,

Where the unsuspecting navigate,

When they need to find some calm,

And when they need to get their bearings.

 

If your troubled soul,

Has in fact sought out his clearing,

I hope you’re ready for your life to end this night,

Because he’s been on a roll,

And you showing up,

Has brought him delight.

 

He is there in hiding,

And until he’s ready,

Black Bear’s face you will not see,

You’ll never know this bear is spying.

 

As you sit and contemplate,

Whatever plight has brought you here,

He’ll be creeping closer,

‘Til finally you notice he is there.

 

Distraught as you were,

When you made your way into his clearing,

It will not surprise him,

That you did not notice him nearing.

 

And when finally you look up,

You’re in a calmer state of mind,

And you really notice your surroundings,

But you notice nothing,

That should not be around,

There are trees and there is grass,

And a carelessly discarded toy,

A few feet before the rock,

Where you have parked your ass.

 

Now you are fucked,

You’re shit out of luck,

Assuming that toy means no harm,

Was your last mistake,

Because your life he means to take.

 

It’s too bad you do not know,

That your life’s at stake,

Because as of now,

There’s still time to make a break.

 

As he lays there on the grass,

Those glass eyes are watching you,

To see if you will take your leave,

Or if your life he can thieve.

 

He watches you go back,

To being detached,

Yet still you’re unaware,

That there’s a life in there,

And you’re also unknowing,

Of the reason he is there,

It’s too bad you do not know,

That it’s time for you to go.

 

So many before you,

Came to this clearing to unwind,

They just needed a little while,

To find their mind,

So again they might smile,

Then never were they heard from again,

As if they vanished into thin air,

All because they went There.

 

What looks like an old forgotten plaything,

Like a cute and fuzzy teddy bear,

Is actually demonic,

It’s dominated by a spirit,

Who wishes never to depart,

Dominated by the spirit,

Of Demonic Dominic.

 

Now Black Bear is laughing,

Laughing in his head,

For him to stay,

You must go away,

Now the time has come,

For him to pounce,

He needs to feed,

From a naughty deed,

He needs to see you 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.

 

 

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.