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Ian Robinson Jan 1
Everyone knows
the classic tale
Of Cats and Mice
The latter running
Running from the former

But once a Dog is in play
the two companions are the prey
Tsunami Dec 2018
Your mouth fumbles
When you call me baby
The word is foreign.
You are afraid.
A mouse caught in the gaze of a snake.
Will it slice your tongue if you say it too hard?
Or too soft?

It rolls up your throat
Pushes past your teeth with great strength
Awkward and sounding slightly out of breath
You mumble it between "hey' and "how are you"
Squished and small
Like it doesn't deserve recognition or even its own space.

You've wrapped it in fear
Hoping that if you say it nicely
Maybe somehow it will be less like a missile
Maybe this time it won't hurt.

It is exotic to that mouth of yours.
A rare commodity,
A precious rock we have to excavate
Our own romantic version of the sword in the stone
Lady Ravenhill Dec 2018
Frigid wintertime
A northern, feathered owl floats
whilst watching the mouse
© LadyRavenhill 2018
Haiku 67
Eyes burn into the back of my head,
watching my every move.
How am I just now noticing this?

To think that I was once doing the same,
only I would try not to be as obvious.
It takes great skill to master what I do.

Be careful where you are,
you never know who is watching you.
Creeping around corners and over hedges.

I look in the windows of everything you own,
waiting for the moment you realize I am there.
I love to watch you squirm under my gaze.

On the other end of the spectrum,
is something I would rather not be on.
It is nothing short of unpleasant.

Could you leave me alone?
I would rather like to hear myself think.
Though not much thinking will be had.

You get closer with every step,
hoping to catch me in your grasp.
You shall not win at this game.

I get closer to you everyday,
yet you seem to slip further away.
An enigma I cannot have.

I dance this dance with you,
but nothing seems to keep you ensnared.
Will you ever become mine?

This never-ending cycle of cat and mouse,
is something I have grown accustomed to.
Please, let us end this soon.

I shall never grow tired of the day,
where we dance face to face.
Instead of from across the way.

You are my treasure,
and I am your prize.
Until the day we meet, my shadowed friend.
Dea Elizabeth Nov 2018
**** this ******
Big
******* massive
Enormous
country of ours.
This desolate land
God forsaken.
My skin is too soft,
My heart is too weak
to be dragged up and down coasts
Chasings stories and heartache.
A mail-order bride,
A ******* for love,
the mouse
who ran to the
Predator.
Kit Scott Nov 2018
a small, dark shape is reflected in the large, round eyes of the owl
tilting its head, it watches the creature snuffling through the snow and listens to its feet move
it takes off from its branch with a shivering of ice

meanwhile, i pretend i dont know it can hear me and continue clambering along
i do not know if it would be better to look my death in the face


(red on white, the drops bounce)
everyday is everyday, and yet
Darcy Aug 2018
Once upon a time
There was a mouse
Who pretended to be a
Real Girl
And she dressed herself up
And hid her whiskers behind
Jewelry and rouge
And porcelain powder
And she scurried away
When the cats got too close

She decorated her hole
In the wall
With rose petals and baby pink
And she kissed boys
And pretended they did not
Notice the fur

But she began to wither
Her little rodent bones
Rattling beneath
A shrinking skin bag
Her fur fell out
And the diamonds were too big
For her pink ears

She spun marathons
On a glass wheel
Always running towards something
Never finding
Anything

She got so small
That those boy’s hands
No longer had anything
To hold onto
And suddenly
They did not want to
Talk to her
Anymore
And her rose filled nest in the wall
Became a
Black hole of guilt

And it ****** her
Up up up

And no one noticed
When she did not crawl back out.
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
You don’t walk but slither
You don’t talk but hiss
Your tongue only blithers
Coiled in bed with a monster so venomous
Your a real man eater
I, another mouse in the field
Running in the harvest of Demeter
While you strike, going for the ****
Michael Ramsey Jul 2018
Scavenger by very nature,
     And nuisance to those
     Who’d judge and propose
Only pessimism of this creature.

Though troublesome, in a sense,
     To instinct it’s bound,
     And blame confounds—
For its entirety mere innocence.

Lions, though great and proud, it aids—
     For in its small size
     And its meekness lies
True intent and respect others evade.

Despite the slightness it commands
     The large elephant
     Is fearful and can’t
Overcome what it doesn’t understand.

Viewed as disgusting, vile and weak
     Though when the time comes
     And all others run
I’ll scurry on, stand proudly, and squeak.
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