I was a mouse and I lived on
The moon, I ate grey cheese it
Was always grey never anything
New.

But then someone parked, left
Scorch marks on my favourite
Grey patch of cheese, so I
Sneaked aboard and watched
Them claim my cheese in the
Name of man, in the name of
History

What was man? did he taste
Good? but I smelt him and
Could tell he smelt not so
Good, We landed it took a
While, I sneaked off to find
New cheeses that I could see
From my cheese moon seat
So far away down.

I tasted here ,I tasted there,
But I preferred what I had left
Behind, that place  in the sky.
I had left to come to this place,
That tasted like moon ant hair.

I waited a while for the ride
That took me from there, but
It was doing a round  trip, so
I'd have sneak off and catch a
lift home from there.

So whoosh I went up through
The clouds, and through the
Blue, to the darkness out there.
I chewed and nibbled, then some
More. It got them in a little
Trouble, they solved this then
Were on there way.

I floated around waiting for a
Ride, then some tasty space rock
Was heading my way, I caught
It as it did fly on by. Then to
Home I was off with a jolt, I got
Near the surface my time to get off.

I landed after floating for a while,
Where the space rock had landed,
Juicy grey rocks had flown around
All mine to taste once more. I was
In heaven, I hope those humans
Never come back, as this moon of
Grey cheese is my  favourite place.
And there's not much tasty cheese
On that multi-coloured rock.

Life is a smorgasbord.

A cheese plate.
A puzzle.
A cheapskate.
A muzzle.
That confuzzles
And confounds you
Bounds you
Astounds you
That the bind is to
Liberty
In the hopes you'll see
You're nothing but free
In this mess of a sea.
Spirit hears your plea
So don't be afraid
To just
Be.

The time may come for a maker’s mark
Heeding way for a grimacing stark.
For what is shown upon the nights embark;
Encumbering loneliness,
Waiting, quietly,
in the dark.
Gently leaning on a stoop of decay
Tar-filled hearts rest,
Waiting, patiently,
For the light of day.

In Spain -
where cheese-making stretches back
to centuries
is a medium sized lump of
Sweet ******* Christ

blessed is the ******
whose womb merited to carry
our small herd of
hand-milked cows
providing milk, cheese, butter, and ice

and to Christians,
the lamb is the symbol of when
the pope and all the christian leadership
will be succeeded by
Moo Jesus

The Good Shepard draws not milk
not liquid from his sheep
but
an overview over Greek pagan
and Christian pastoral deities

then Christ went and
made the exorcism and
he sold in town all his
rriegitha cheese, his curds, his milk

I mentioned that The Green Sheep
had an ad coming out
in the body and blood of Christ
how could the shepherds resist
the temptation?

I was refusing the sacraments
mysticism is cheese
Christ is cheese
better still,
mountains of cheese!

Is your cheese killing the planet?
The Wedding of the Dead:
Celebration and Restraint
Christ stopped at Ebola

A bottle of wine
ordinary cheese
the foreboding of
the evening breeze

Soft honest words
murmured across the station
And silence for
contemplation

Another slice
another drip
As your mind
begins to slip

Across time
across the rhyme
What's real
so intertwined

I can't remember how
to make blue

Inhabiting the space between
Chaos and harmony

Entering the warmth of
Scarlet rivers

Indulging in verdant
Pungency

Soft lips of
Salt and honey
Meet mine

Haplessly embracing
A plate of cheese
And wine

Heart beats

you breath

what a lovely scene

you peel

my layers

almost like string cheese