Intuition

 

Listen to me,

Let me guide you,

When truths try to hide from you,

Let my voice,

Help you make a choice.

 

I’m your gut feeling,

A part of you,

That you may not believe in,

But if you’d maybe stop to listen,

I could become the one,

On which you most depend.

 

I’m that impression in your mind,

That’s more like just an inkling,

Though not coming off too forceful,

My message is still powerful,

It can save you from countless circumstances,

And prevent you from taking needless chances.

 

When I send shivers down your spine,

It’s not just some nobody,

Feeding you a line,

Don’t discount it,

But take the warning,

To save yourself from mourning.

 

Proceed with caution,

When I send a premonition,

Consider seriously,

Before proceeding,

When you’re met,

With that foreboding feeling.

 

If you feel me in your bones,

There’s a reason for their moans and groans,

It’s paramount you pay attention,

Else your soul stop singing,

And funeral bells begin ringing.

 

I know I’ve raised your suspicions,

And given you a hunch,

In a bunch of situations,

When your mind seemed out to lunch,

Now here,

Accept a final warning,

Take heed,

So your eyes open come morning.

Moose On A Mission

Here is the story of a moose,

Who heard some people,

Like eating pies of chocolate mousse,

And so went about searching,

To find the Chocolate moose,

So as to save them from the fate,

Of ending up,

On people’s plates.

 

“They must be bitter and cold,

Like the winter months,

To think of eating one of us”,

Thought the Regular moose.

 

A make of moose called Chocolate?

He’d never heard of that,

It must indeed,

Be a rare breed,

Or he’d have heard,

Of at least one herd.

 

This particular moose,

His name was Deuce,

He was born and raised,

In the North Country,

In deep woods running along,

Interstate Ninety-Three.

 

It occurred to him,

That Chocolate moose,

Might not even live,

In a forest with birch and spruce,

Maybe they were farther off,

Where palms grew,

In flatlands of sand.

 

“Aha”!,

Thought Deuce,

“I can disguise my search,

For the Chocolate moose,

I’ll tell the whole forest,

I’m going on a vacation,

And I don’t know for how long,

Will be the duration”.

 

So he got his affairs in order,

And made sure to grab,

His lucky quarter,

Then he was off,

His undertaking a secret,

So his friends wouldn’t scoff.

 

He did not know,

Whether to look high or low,

As he’d never seen one before,

He did not know,

To what size,

A Chocolate moose might grow.

 

Every so often,

He would stop to speak,

With whatever woods creature,

Had a minute to spare,

He had conversations with ants and with bears,

But none had heard,

Of a Chocolate moose,

Living anywhere near there.

 

It took him a week to get to Florida,

Walking half the days,

And all through the nights,

Where he inquired with all the exotics,

Although they made him quake with fright,

But after quite some time,

Seeing no new leads,

He acknowledged it was time to head,

And in another two weeks,

Arrived in California.

 

Needing to gather his thoughts,

That first night after dark,

He made his way,

To a beach in Malibu,

And took a swim until,

He worked out his muscle knots.

 

All throughout the next few days,

He asked spiders, sharks, and lions,

And after being satisfied,

That they were not lying,

He started to trek back east,

But no,

He was not ready to admit defeat!

There must be a way,

To locate the Chocolate moose,

And keep them from dying!

 

Now Deuce decided,

That to not have at least a little fun,

Would be outright retarded,

Enough chatting with those,

Who gave him the creeps,

He would visit,

The City That Never Sleeps.

 

Now,

The answers we seek,

Tend to be revealed,

At the most unusual of times,

And so it was this time,

For after searching weeks and weeks,

He learned that eating Chocolate mousse,

Was not even a crime.

 

Deuce arrived in New York City,

At the start of a busy weekend,

He made his way to Central Park,

Where he found some woods,

And napped ’til almost dark.

 

About the time he woke,

A voice on the nearby trail spoke,

Said she to her chum,

“After that run,

My favorite chocolate mousse,

Would go down so yum”!

 

“Oh this is too easy”!

Thought dear little Deuce,

“I’ll follow them,

And be led right to these Chocolate moose”!

 

And so,

From a safe distance behind,

He kept the ladies in his sight,

Hoping with all his might,

That the Chocolate moose she hoped to devour,

Had not yet been prepared,

In the pastry made of butter and flour.

 

Really,

He did not know where he was expecting,

To find this unheard of breed,

But to be sure,

It did seem strange to collect it,

From a bakery.

 

Yet that is where they were,

And as it was a pleasant evening,

The business had propped open the door,

So he heard them make the order,

Then watched them go take a seat,

At the table in the corner.

 

Moving then,

To stand at the wall,

Where he could hide behind,

The two decorative pines,

While looking in an open window,

It pretty near blew his mind,

When the food was brought,

For there was no meat,

It was actually a sweet!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Creepy With No Name

She saw bright red eyes,

Following her,

And knew they must be part of a body,

Covered in fur.

 

She would sometimes speculate,

As to whom or what they belonged to,

And she made quick to navigate,

The well-worn way,

That over the years,

Her feet had trod,

Over the sod.

 

So many things,

Could be the owner of such awful eyes,

And so many reasons they could have,

For using them to spy.

 

As far as she could tell,

She was the only one who went this way,

And so she settled on the sentiment,

That the way was haunted,

And the Thing was not,

A Thing Heaven-Sent.

 

For how could it be a human being,

When the eyes in its head,

Glowed such a fiery red?

And when it was out,

Only when most peoples,

Were abed?

 

A werewolf?

A demon?

A possessed fellow human?

Tonight,

Thoughts of what it was that lurked,

Ran rampant through her mind.

 

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

 

Dinner-time was long past,

And getting safely home,

Past that thing that roamed,

Seemed a barely attainable goal,

And even more so,

When she heard that feral growl.

 

Assuming it to be The Thing,

With adrenaline,

Her blood began to sing,

She was frozen in place,

Then before too long,

Something raced and filled the space,

Between it and her.

 

Nosediving into a boulder,

Smashing her face and shoulder,

She thought herself done,

And expected any minute,

The Thing would tear her to pieces just for fun.

 

She could feel it,

She could hear it,

Something sniffing around her fallen frame,

She lay all still and quiet,

But inside her head,

There was a crazy riot.

 

After nearly a minute passed,

She ventured to open her eyes,

And then,

She got a big surprise,

For there,

Right there in front of her,

Not more than twenty feet away,

Were the bright red glowing fiery eyes!

 

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

 

And through the immobilizing fear,

Her mind began to work again,

Why was it,

She could still feel her aggressor’s breath,

When she could swear that was he,

Right there up ahead,

And slightly to her left.

 

But there was not much time for theorizing,

For whatever was sniffing at her,

Was too drooling now,

Like she was steak and fries,

And the red eyes just leapt through the air,

Headed right towards her,

Oh now!

What else was going down,

In this living nightmare?

 

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

 

And so there was a wrangle,

Between the one actually evil,

And the one mysterious,

With devilish eyes,

And would you know,

She was in for a surprise!

 

Indeed,

An entity did reside,

On her path,

But it had defeated,

The one who had left her mistreated!

 

 

Catastrophic Controversy

Hell is here,

But don’t let that get in the way,

Of living your life today,

Put your angst aside,

And get the fuck outside.

 

Hell is here,

That much closer to Doomsday,

And the Man Downstairs,

Is trying to take,

An early payday.

 

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

You won’t find no sugar-coatings here,

I say,

Fucking relax,

Because facts are facts,

Your time is your time,

It is predetermined,

By not your brain nor mine,

If it’s meant to nab you,

You can not halt it,

And if you’re meant to survive,

At the end you will still,

Be fucking ALIVE!

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

 

You must realize,

It’s coughing all around us,

Now we’re coated with its germs,

So expecting the worst,

From this curse,

Everyone’s common sense,

Has become paralyzed.

 

Hell is here,

Stupid souls,

Let it take control,

Rather than live and let live,

Blame is thrown at others,

Who just innocently go about their business,

And long after this is done,

They won’t think it’s fun,

When their targets,

Find it fucking impossible,

To forgive.

 

Hell is here,

What was alright,

Has become taboo,

At least to you,

But speak to another,

And you’re told it’s no thing,

Really,

The world is about to recover.

 

Hell is here,

Times are dark,

Days have vibes,

Like the witching hour,

Daunting and full,

Of the Devil’s power.

 

Hell is here,

It’s been a long time comin’

And would you look at that now?

Many who talk a big talk,

Are frantic and running.

 

Hell is here,

It takes just a sneeze,

To knock a once-badass,

To their fucking knees.

 

Hell is here,

And that black-clad bastard,

Is trying to shine,

So let’s not let him get away with tainting,

People and places divine.

 

Unseen Storms

I am marked,

By something dark,

It follows me,

Wherever I go,

Making sure high points,

Are followed by lows.

 

It’s not as bad,

As the Mark Of The Beast,

Or the Wicked Witch,

Of The East,

But still it’s shades of dark,

And they leave a mark.

 

I see it daily at work,

When the old jerks,

Who are running their yappers,

Think that I don’t know,

They’re talking about beaus,

And making it out,

Like I’m some cheap hoe.

 

It’s like there’s some slight horror,

Around even the brightest corner,

Right there in front of my face,

Like an ugly tear,

In a pretty piece of lace.

 

I see it each weekend out,

At some local haunt,

It’s not too bad,

Until I overhear the taunts,

Apparently I’m ugly,

And just not normal,

Though I know it’s fact I’m more pretty,

Than most in my city.

 

It surrounds me for always,

A dark, dark haze,

Is prevalent through,

Otherwise bright rays,

And so being paranoid,

Darkens my days.

 

I see it most everywhere,

And I really try,

Not to care,

But I’m so sick,

Of all the stares,

I know tons of folks,

Who need a shove,

Down a long steep flight of stairs.

 

A speck of thundercloud,

In a seemingly spotless sky,

It seems dead set,

On making me cry,

And so presently,

Here I am,

Just trying not to die,

While I’m alive.

What’s On Your Mind?

I wonder,

What do others see,

When they look at me?

 

All sorts of peoples,

Look and look and look,

I guess to them I’m like,

The cover of an unread book,

I either appear as interesting and appealing,

Or as bland and boring,

But I wish I could see who thinks what,

Instead of having to trust my gut.

 

Am I associated with laughter,

And happy ever after?

Or do they see a blackened heart,

And assume I have no feeling,

And so am not worth knowing?

 

Am I only a pretty face,

Taking up precious space?

Or am I too a human,

With a valuable opinion?

 

Sometimes I look at someone,

And they’re looking at me too,

It’s sort of disturbing,

To wonder what’s happening in their mind,

When at me they’re always staring,

I think – “How rude”!

Maybe they should just speak their mind,

Then I’d know whether I should hate,

Or appreciate.

 

I am not a mind reader,

So if you don’t want my mind to wander,

Tell me why you’re gawking at me,

When you’re way over yonder,

Or don’t blame me for making assumptions,

For you’ve left me without any other options.

 

No doubt some think I’m fat,

While others think,

“Hey, I’d sure like to tap that”!

Now if only they’d give some sort of clue,

So I could decipher who is who.

 

I know more than a few,

Are sweet to my face,

Then go behind my back,

Saying how they’d like,

To put me in my place,

No doubt a couple speak true,

But once again,

How do I figure who is who?

 

I see a stranger look at me,

Eyes go wide,

They spin around and gape,

Is someone passing undue judgement,

Thinking I’m some shady hoe,

Or am I,

Someone they’d like to know?

 

Regardless,

No ones opinion,

Determines if I sink or swim,

Fuck it,

I am not anyone’s minion,

And no one I’ve met,

Is the artist who formed me.

 

 

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?