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.

 

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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?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sooner Or Later, It’s Inevitable

I feel a storm’s brewing,

Bye-bye to rainbows and unicorns,

Trust me now,

Trouble’s coming.

 

Things have been going far too good,

To stay like this for always,

I’m betting soon,

My mind’s happy song,

Will sound instead,

Like a troubled gong.

 

I should wonder what this trial shall be,

And how long it will linger beside me,

But I’ll try not to give a damn,

Or let it ruin what I am.

 

Everything’s smooth sailing for me now,

Too much to spell out here,

Now I wonder,

If I had to choose,

In which area of my world,

Would I be willing to begin feeling the blues?

 

Maybe it’s for good,

That we don’t get much for clues,

When a storm is on the move,

Because for real,

Who knows what we’d do,

If we could  better sense,

When rough seas were due?

 

Let’s hope the winds aren’t too wild,

And that anything not easily resolved,

Is not at all involved,

As I don’t want to smother,

Before I have recovered.

 

When it finally shows its ugly self,

And carefully laid plans,

Start whirling and twirling,

I’ll refashion things,

Into a new and appealing pearl,

Using just good old brains and hands.

 

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?

 

 

 

 

 

I think I’d Like That

I’d rather be a tree,

This way I’d not be everyone’s focus,

Probably the animals,

Would be the only ones to give me any notice.

 

I’d rather be a dog,

This way I could laze around all day,

My biggest worry being,

If I’m in anybody’s way.

 

I’d rather be a dollar bill,

This way I’d travel ’round the world for free,

Going from this wallet to that hand,

I’d see it all from sea to sea.

 

I’d rather be a horse,

This way I could use my hooves,

To beat up my enemies,

And no one would disapprove.

 

I’d rather be a sea shell,

This way I could live on the beach,

Without the beach house mortgage,

Yes that would make life just peachy.

 

I’d rather be a parrot,

This way I could yak all day,

And people would laugh not be offended,

By the truths I’d say.

 

I’d rather be a Christmas wreath,

This way I could go in hiding almost all year,

Rather than deal with people,

Not as rosy as they appear.

 

I’d rather be a dairy cow,

This way I’d have no responsibility,

Except for giving you cream and butter,

With a mood of docility.

 

I’d rather be a television,

This way I could portray the bad news,

But since it would not affect me,

I’d not have cause to worry or feel blue.

 

I’d rather be a tiger,

This way I could be so scary,

No one would dare laugh,

Just because I prefer a life this solitary.

 

I’d rather be a book,

This way every day would be relaxing,

I’d just sit in a little nook,

Instead of doing things that prove taxing.

 

I’d rather be a flower,

This way I could be pretty always,

No more taking time for makeup,

And covering up greys.

 

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

 

No one’s wholly happy,

With who or what they are,

If we all were,

No one would get far,

It’s not complaining,

It’s knowing damn well what you’re worth,

Don’t just take what you’re given and smile,

If all you ever have,

Is the hand you’re dealt,

You may as well keel over,

And become just more dust for the Earth.

 

 

No Ordinary Pony

Teeth that elongate,

That’s the way I was created,

But I’m glad it is this way,

As blood is so much cheaper than hay.

 

No doubt you’ve heard of vampires,

And I’m sure you’ve seen a pony,

But I bet you wouldn’t believe,

That there’s a Being around who’s both,

For any amount of money.

 

I have no idea,

How long I’ve roamed the Earth,

I’ve never really,

Put much thought into my birth,

Most likely I’ve been around,

Since the beginning of time,

Anyway,

That thought sure does  make me seem sublime.

 

I wouldn’t consider myself demon-like,

Although I’m certainly no angel,

At times I suppose,

I’m a bit of a scoundrel,

But in no way,

Does this make me pure evil.

 

I believe I’m one-of-a-kind,

At least never before,

Have I met any exactly like myself,

Though I admit,

I gave up looking a millennia ago,

Searching was such a bore,

And seemed like such a chore.

 

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

 

Let me tell you what I see,

When I look at me,

In case you yourself know of any,

And so could tell me.

 

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I look like your usual stable pony,

But there is one telling difference,

That sets me apart from others,

I am a loner,

Looked upon by other horses with bitterness,

I’m never welcomed in the herd,

And from me they always flee.

 

At first glance you’ll see I’m sweet as honey,

But you’ll notice when I get hungry,

My eyes will glow rose red,

And my four teeth front and corners,

Extend way out from my head.

 

Each person who has known me,

Has come upon me strangely,

It must happen this way,

So they don’t figure out,

That I do not age or die.

 

I’ve always just felt this inkling,

Saying someone needs me,

And when it’s time to start anew,

I slip off into the night,

And wander aimlessly away.

 

They think me an easy keeper,

I need just a minimum of feed,

But still stay plump,

With plenty of energy to jump,

Each time I wander into someone’s life,

They like the fact that I come cheap,

But I bet they’d freak,

If they knew what I got up to,

Each time they fall to sleep.

 

When the night creatures come out,

I gallivant about,

I’m on the prowl,

For a fat bit of fowl.

 

To them it’d be just gore,

I have no doubt,

It would make sure,

They did not like me anymore,

That’s why I do my food route by night,

So I don’t have to listen to them shout.

 

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In between ‘homes’ though,

Is when I’m most at home,

It’s embedded in my bones,

The love to roam.

 

Laying in a field of flowers,

Free to devour,

Whatever I please,

No matter the hour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah, You Wish………..

You can start with “I wish”,

And end it however you like,

But it’s just a thought,

And will help you naught.

 

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If only a wish,

Wasn’t just a wish,

If we could cast a line,

Then reel it in,

Like one does a fish.

 

If only wishes,

Blew in on the wind,

If we could just open up our arms,

And they’d be ours for the taking,

Free for just embracing.

 

If only wishes,

Could really be granted,

We could search high and search low,

Til we sought out a genie,

And our wish he’d bestow.

 

If only wishes,

Weren’t just our imaginations,

If they could be rained upon us,

We’d fill a bucket to the top,

The next time the clouds let it drop.

 

If only wishes,

Could be bought,

We’d work our hands to the bone,

Then we’d use all our pennies,

To buy many.

 

If only wishes,

Struck from out of nowhere,

We could head out in a storm,

And with luck its eyewall,

Won’t pass us by.

 

If only wishes,

Could be given as gifts,

It would seem always like Christmas,

We’d eagerly pass them around,

Hoping by Karma we’d be found.

 

If only wishes,

Could be planted,

We’d plant giant gardens,

Then from our land,

We’d farm them by hand.

 

If only wishes,

Weren’t just daydreams,

It would be nice to pick them,

To keep on hand,

For if we get stranded.

 

If only wishes,

Could be earned,

We could labor with a smile,

For that would be worth our while.

 

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

 

If you think about it,

It makes no sense,

To wish upon a star,

That will only fall,

Far away,

From wherever you are.

 

I’ve come to the conclusion,

That wishes are worthless,

I’d say I wish that wasn’t true,

But that would be pointless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jigsaw

Life is like a puzzle,

But everyone’s missing a piece,

And until you find it,

You will never really know peace.

 

It seems to come and go,

In the form of life’s ups and downs,

Just know that if it leaves,

It was never the piece,

Sent to make you complete,

And peace you have not yet known.

 

Search high,

Search low,

Be sure to check all those cracks in between,

Until your puzzle is made whole,

By someone or something,

That will never have to go.

 

The ups are just wonderful,

Aren’t they?

You’re soaring high,

Until the good times,

Say bye-bye.

 

Were they worth it?

That’s a good question,

I guess we’ll never truly know,

Why our personal heaven,

Turns out to also be,

Our own form of hell.

 

But wait until a year,

After heaven has turned to hell,

Think back and you’ll find,

There was probably a reason,

Why it fell.

 

The times known as downs are fucked,

They are piles and piles of bad luck,

That sometimes last,

Until we feel,

That we are stuck.

 

The one silver lining,

When you are down,

A.k.a. fucked,

The only way to go is up.

 

So is it worth it?

That’s for you to decide,

You can choose to run and hide,

Or to laugh and enjoy the ride.