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.

 

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

 

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.

 

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

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mountain Travels

I’m going through the Smokey Mountains,

Somewhere in Tennessee,

All by myself,

Yup only me.

 

My, my,

This place is dark and empty,

And I swear,

The Lord Almighty could come to here,

And I would mistake him  for Lucifer,

Here to help promote fear.

 

Picturing what’s waiting,

On the other side,

Helps me to,

Endure the eerie ride.

 

A monster awaits me,

Behind that tree,

Any moment now,

It will reach out and grab me.

 

While I wind my way,

Around each bend,

Thoughts such as this,

Occupy my head,

And even though it’s not that likely,

I’m paranoid,

These monsters want me dead.

 

These roads are vacant,

No matter what others are on my same path,

There’s not even one street lamp in sight,

And I wonder,

Do they too,

Imagine a monster’s wrath?

 

These terrifying mountain roads,

Mile after endless mile,

They are so terrorizing,

While I’m passing through here,

There’s nothing that would,

Entice a smile.

 

Any and every,

Creepy tale I’ve ever heard,

They no longer seem absurd,

The one of alien abduction especially,

Has me right now in a most fearsome reverie.

 

Evil sorceresses and sorcerers,

Practicing their darkened magic,

Oh I hope that I am wrong,

For I imagine a baker’s dozen,

Waiting on a scapegoat to hijack.

 

Scary movie scenes reel through my mind,

Hauntings and gore and demonic possessions,

These horrors have always horrified me,

But never until now did I think,

That maybe they could become reality.

 

Up ahead I see a shadow person,

Apparently yes,

This nightmare can worsen,

So I turn up my speaker volume,

Hoping to be distracted,

And pray for the demons,

To be extracted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Cupcake Is Born

Early one Saturday morning,

An old London Lady,

Was deciding what to make,

“I know”, said she,

“I think I will bake,

I’ll bake me a big batch of cupcakes”!

 

So she got busy,

And worked herself into a tizzy,

Fast she wanted them done,

Because she had,

An errand to run.

 

After they were cooled,

She got out things to make them pretty,

As she liked eye-appealing food.

 

Little did she know,

The sprinkles would set one free,

One sprinkle had magic ability,

That made that cupcake,

Able to flee.

 

Out into London’s streets he wandered,

Where exactly he was headed,

He hadn’t really pondered.

 

He rounded one last bend,

Ending up in the West End,

Near the Covent Garden,

On a street called Drury Lane.

 

Outside of an enormous structure,

Was a sign for a bakery,

And on the stairs,

Leading in there,

Sat the famous Gingerbread Man,

Petting a cat with a loud purr.

 

Standing up to shake hands,

And greet the Cupcake,

He said “Hello, I’m the Gingerbread Man,

Who are you?

You look fresh-baked”.

 

“I’m Clyde The Cupcake,

And yes,

You are correct,

I am a fresh bake”,

Replied the runaway Cupcake.

 

As conversation kept on,

The hours flew past,

And soon the night was over,

They had talked until dawn.

 

That was some time ago,

Still they are the best of friends,

They remain close,

Enjoying the fine shopping in that area,

And going to the theatre,

But working for the Muffin Man,

Is what delights them most.

 

Among their most loyal clientele,

Is that old London Lady,

That Clyde knows well,

She now buys their treats,

Because she’s scared to bake,

Ever since her sprinkles,

Put her Cupcake,

Under a spell.

 

 

Grandpa Joe’s Successor

I am The Ghost Of The Railroad Tracks,

All of you travelers,

Had better watch your backs.

 

I’m fairly new to the Haunting profession,

And though I did well with my lessons,

Something meant for fun,

Could turn as deadly as a loaded gun.

 

So you can better understand,

First here’s some history,

About little ol’ me.

 

Not all Ghosts are manifestations,

Of the departed dead,

Showing up as apparitions,

Full of ill intentions.

 

I was born as one,

The same as you were born as human,

I have a Ghost Ma,

And a Ghost Pa,

Plus one annoying sister,

Who bats her eyes,

And says ‘ooh la la’.

 

My family lives,

On The Wrong Side Of The Tracks,

Dead center through there runs,

The Railroad Tracks themselves,

Opposite us and to the South,

Lies The Left Side Of The Tracks.

 

Us Wrong Siders,

We are mostly good folk,

Although those Left Siders,

Will tell you we’re a joke.

 

All of us live in The Village,

The one just North of Town,

That seems to humanity,

Empty and run-down,

But to us,

It’s a true home-town.

 

We grow up similar to people,

Except we are invisible,

I guarantee before I told you that,

None of you,

Even knew,

We are there,

Though we are,

Among you everywhere.

 

I am now an adult Ghost,

Ma and Pa threw a party for me,

They’ve always been,

First-rate hosts,

Everybody to me made a toast,

And now in Haunting the Tracks I’m engrossed.

 

Some of us get easy jobs,

Such as Haunting Things That We Ourselves Don’t Do,

Human activities,

Such as eating and sleeping and bathing,

They are of a great interest to us,

So Haunting them does not take,

Much brainwork for creativity.

 

Somehow I got,

The gig for the Railroad Tracks,

And not to express negativity,

But this post has been empty,

Since Grandpa Joe died,

And that has been a long while,

I have some big shoes to fill,

Which will take substantial skill,

That man was a brilliant Haunter,

He was very sly and wily.

 

I’d like very much to take after Grandpa,

He had some top-notch tricks up his sleeve,

Sure to leave the Railroad’s passengers,

Either scared or peeved,

So far,

I believe,

I’ve come up with some things,

That would have him pleased.

 

In times past,

Never a train passed,

That Grandpa didn’t leave,

Someone feeling aghast,

Oh Hell yes,

He gave them a fear,

That was sure to last.

 

“AAAAAHHHHHHH” came the scream,

It was terrifically loud,

And woke the sleeping passenger beside her,

From his dreams,

That was caused by me,

It was my first solo Haunting,

She was drinking coffee,

Fighting off the hail to slumber,

So I sidled up beside her,

And blew bubbles in her coffee,

While my hand yanked down quickly on her ear.

 

I’ve got plans tonight,

For the Five O’clock Train,

I will make one traveler’s eyes see freezing rain,

Just while he goes the mile,

Through the center of our Village,

For all others,

The sky shall remain bright and sunny,

Then when he goes crazy,

They’ll all bet their money,

The One did not experience,

Something legendary.

 

I wonder how mean it would be,

To jump inside the front car,

And fast grab some young’un,

Tell the child “Shush I’m a friend”,

Then dart to the end,

Oh the laugh I would get,

When the parent would run,

After the little angel,

They sure would not understand,

That it’s just tradition,

And no harm was meant to be done,

It’s really all in fun.

 

I’d like to one day master,

Materializing as an apparition,

Then stand on these Tracks,

While the Train’s a-comin’,

Looking like a young man tempting fate,

Then when the conductor startles,

And activates his brake,

A fool of him I will make,

I will disappear,

As he’s looking witless,

Stuttering and trembling with fear.

 

If I could produce a rain of rocks,

Seeming to fall from above,

Then go from side to side,

Crossing over the roof,

Like in a juggler’s pattern,

I’d really love,

To see them all freak out,

Whining and yelling,

Scared out of their minds,

But by the time they go telling,

Of their Supernatural Adventure,

I’d have snapped up their proof,

That there’s really a spook.

 

You don’t have to believe in me,

The Ghost Of The Railroad Tracks,

But if you choose to travel by rail,

Don’t take this route,

Because I will not fail,

And Lord only knows,

If you will make it out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anything’s Possible

“I don’t know what to say,

I’m unsure where to start,

I’ve been called on to depart,

And with me I have taken,

Half of my mommy’s heart”.

~Lady~

 

Christened as Lady,

Known by pet names like Horsie-Ponie and Lady Lou,

And if I’m being rude,

I’m known as That Bitch, too.

 

Wherever this is I have landed,

I’ve heard there is a Wishing Well,

And if a penny it is handed,

It will send you back from whence you came,

Amidst the ringing of sweet bells.

 

Although I find it restful here,

With sunny weather,

And abundant grass so green,

I’m hoping to get back,

Before it’s been,

Too many years passed,

‘Cuz I feel me leaving mommy,

Was more than kind of mean,

And I can’t let the rest of our lives blow past,

Without again me her eyes having seen.

 

Yesterday I met a Fairy named Geri,

So special was she,

For she told me about the Wishing Well,

Then clued me in,

On how it could transport me,

Back to my mommy.

 

Now around my neck,

Hangs a penny,

In a unique pink drawstring sack,

So guided by instinct,

I puff up my chest,

And point my hooves West.

 

Miss Geri has told me,

The journey is not long,

In one week’s time,

I’ll be back where I belong.

 

When I see the Well,

In a twinkling,

She will reappear,

And her dust she will sprinkle,

On that penny I’ve ’round my neck,

Releasing it into,

The Mouth of the Well.

 

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

 

It’s been a fine journey thus far,

I’ve had luscious grass galore,

My water was drunk from the purest springs,

The taste was really something,

Definitely fit for a king,

And each night as I settled down,

Some grain was brought to me,

As good as any I’ve ever known.

 

Today will be the day,

I just had that sentiment,

This morning when I woke,

And now I am in my element,

Trotting fast,

This is no joke,

I’m excited,

And hoping mommy meets me,

Without resentment.

 

I stopped on top of a small hill,

Looking down at a shallow valley,

There it is,

Next to those two trees,

One palm and one white birch,

Despite being such an unlikely duo,

They were lovely,

And for just a moment my thoughts strayed,

As I thought,

‘You know,

Maybe together like that,

They should always grow’.

 

Spraying forth like a geyser,

Rainbow colored pastel waters,

Were pushed up,

And then rained down,

Emitting a most soothing sound,

‘O what a pretty Well!’,

Thought I,

As those waters,

Rose and fell.

 

So at a slow four-beat gait,

I went down to the Well,

Ears pricked with excitement,

I was so ready to seal my fate.

 

As I walked up to the Well,

Simultaneously came Geri,

Flashing a winsome grin,

She began to spin,

Shooting Fairy Dust,

Causing the sack’s string to bust.

 

There was a big splash,

As the Well accepted my cash,

Then Geri blew a kiss,

And I was on my way,

Past the abyss,

That had been separating me,

From Earth and the mommy I’ve missed.

 

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

 

I got back,

At the breaking of the dawn,

Geri the Fairy had set me down,

Quiet as a mouse,

Right at mommy’s house.

 

Since I’m now Undead,

Through the door I floated,

And stood next to the coffee pot,

Since I knew that’s where mommy would head,

When she finally roused herself from her bed.

 

Now here she is,

Walking toward me,

Not sure if she should believe,

What her eyes seem to see,

She stops in her tracks,

Giving herself time,

To take in the facts.

 

After what was seemingly forever,

But in reality may have been,

Just maybe to the count of ten,

She was on her way to me again.

 

Hugs and kisses were exchanged,

And when I answered her back,

In her own tongue,

Her face showed some shock,

But then we both agreed,

This new arrangement for my life does rock,

And will be lots of fun.

 

Now that we are both contented,

Many merry times get had,

Daily I give thanks,

That coming back was attainable,

For mommy is no longer sad,

And with my new voice,

Our bond has grown to something,

Utterly unexplainable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 real  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.