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.

Our Association To The Ocean

While looking out,

Over the ocean,

I was wishing I could bottle some up,

Kind of like a little potion,

But after thinking that through –

It’s not necessary,

As there’s something ocean-like,

Already inside of you.

 

Every day we make waves,

Some on the surface,

And others internal,

Ourselves we may not realize,

But when seen through another’s eyes,

They move a bunch of life’s bits,

Causing eternal changes,

To happen in every size.

 

Each and every one of us is powerful,

In body,

In mind,

Or in both combined,

In some it’s kept hidden,

Then in others it shows,

Whether it’s been brandished,

Or has snuck out unbidden.

 

We can all be colorful,

And yes sometimes that’s wonderful,

Though at other times,

Not so much,

Maybe our good moods,

Are like the Caribbean Sea,

Beautiful,

Translucent,

And aquamarine,

And our bad moods,

Are like the Bay of Biscay,

Dark,

Stormy,

And seeking prey.

 

Woven here and there throughout humanity,

Something sure smells fishy,

Of course I mean that figuratively,

I am referencing those with salty personalities,

Hence is the notion,

That they’re like the ocean.

 

 

 

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hmmmmm……….

I don’t know why,

A storm rolls in light before sound,

But I do know this,

The rain it brings,

Makes the browned ground rebound.

 

I don’t know why,

Black is associated with evil,

But I do know this,

Colorful things can be lethal,

And darkness can be regal.

 

I don’t know why,

Trees can produce paper,

But I do know this,

If we keep being takers,

We’ll regret it later.

 

I don’t know why,

It’s normal for heads to grow hair,

But I do know this,

I’d wear a lot more hats,

If up there were bare.

 

I don’t know why,

Green means go,

But I do know this,

There’s always at least one,

Determined to go too slow.

 

I don’t know why,

Good belongs on the road less traveled,

But I do know this,

It’s supposed to be worth it,

At the striking of the final gavel.

 

I don’t know why,

Pies are made round,

But I do know this,

I’ve found they’re not worth,

The extra pounds.

 

I don’t know why,

We let machines replace people,

But I do know this,

Progress’s side effects,

Spiral down,

And cause something else to cripple.

 

I don’t know why,

The movie is never as good as the book,

But I do know this,

So many will never know,

Because the book they’ve overlooked.

 

I don’t know why,

It’s impossible to get out of life alive,

But I do know this,

Lately it’s a wonder,

If there’s anything left,

For which to survive.

 

I don’t know why,

Hearts are commonly drawn in red,

But I do know this,

It makes perfect sense,

Because any time they’ve gotten hurt – they’ve bled.

 

I don’t know why,

Wasted time seems to fly,

But I do know this,

What you must do next,

Will force your expression to wry.

 

I don’t know why,

The sun doesn’t shine at night,

But I do know this,

Missing its light,

Doesn’t make the dark,

Any less of a welcome sight.

 

I don’t know why,

Time can’t stand still,

But I do know this,

It would be a convenience to have it at the beck and call,

Of my own free will.

 

I don’t know why,

Fire is hot,

But I do know this,

It makes marshmallows,

Taste as they ought.

 

I don’t know why,

All religions believe themselves correct,

But I do know this,

It appears they all,

Need to be fact-checked.