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James LR Sep 2018
Will was a mouse of tawny hue.
And as he grew he came upon
A leaf beside a silver stream.
When slithering, then creeping on

A monster snuck from olive grass
And all but asked to have his fill.
Down stream our friend did run away,
And thus escaped the brave mouse Will.

So floating on along the stream,
And wondering where he should go.
Then at a fork in brooklet bank
He took the way to forest old

Our mouse with fur of sandy brown,
The raft he grounded on the shore
And ran into the darkened wood.
From whence he would return no more.

For in the wood there lived a rat
Who did attack the chance to prey
Upon this humble passerby
That chanced to try to find his way

And then our mouse found destiny
And resting he was unaware
Of danger there. Rat had his fill
of Mr. Will and didn't leave a hair
I wanted to try using the trisyllabic rhyme scheme used by Tolkien in his poem "Errantry". Very hard to write in, and I probably flubbed it in some spots.
Data Jan 2018
In the world of small things,
a tiny, dark-brown mouse
is trapped in a wooden box;

without food or water he
becomes afraid to move
and chooses death.

In the world of small things
the lime-green bell frog’s
skin is wet with a percentage
of poison described in words as

‘harmless’

In a world of diminishing returns
but unlimited growth, you make room
for all your greed and the hungry dream
of how BIG! you will ‘succeed’

Yet, no time to wonder what might have been:
Amidst the cold-white starlight
is the silent, dark-space of endless night where

‘Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.’

Microwave your communications,
digitalise your imaginations,
cultivate a virtual existence
in which your obsessions with gods, monsters
and immortal men are ‘larger than life’

And, while the tread of your heavy foot
is upon the world of small things
and your vision’s focus
only notices the bland vainglory
of your shiny ‘big picture’ illusions,

You forget what it means
to have breathed like a timid mouse.


_________________­_____________________
­
By Data © Jan, 2018
Perception is everything
German Rodriguez Nov 2018
When the Lion roared
It scared the mouse away
To a corner of the Earth
Is where that mouse will stay

A corner far from the Lion is safe
The Mouse pondered and paced
Until he was again face to face
with an unsure worry that illuminated the place

That poor corner now plagued with Rat
The Lion won't return to that
Not until it's time to cure
That which made the corner unpure
How must I love you as kind is you’re gaze ,
If not of love I endure you ,
then from heaven above ?
“ Then not out of love out of spite my love ,
for you will grow to something more dear ,
for you I hold in avenues of green ,
you’re sweet virtues were always meant for me “ .

“ Please don’t look at me this way ,
you’re pastel shades will fade away ,
you’re indigo reds will turn to grey ,
and all you’re love will decay some November’s day .

“. Oh l love you with all my colours my love and sing you’re name from roof tops above ,
with the cats that look at mice and then purr to their mistress for milk once more .

“ Then how must I love to such kind a gaze ?
to feel like a mouse in you’re hall of fame ,
for I can never out of spite or love ,
fall for you’re charms ,
for they are not out of love .

“ Then out of **** my dear oh such feeble a frame  ,
for my kind words must not be in vain .”
“:
Philipa James Jan 14
There once was a mouse

Who lived in our house

You'd often him hear him sing

Until the cat did gobble him
just a bit a fun haha
Flames and Hobbies must not report your Time
As a Rebel-in-Arms beyond your Due
Yet across the Beach is a Stern Incline
Which must Inspire a Better You
Yes I know, my Friend: As his own Cousin
Your Image dulls like an Owl to a Mouse
But the Mouse can swim. So in your Giving
Behind this Chantry is a Better House
I forgive your Hate to an Elder Age
Since he killed the Fancy you so preserve
He is that Open; And preaches the Sage
Reminding the Fame you also Deserve.
Now, after all that said: Which do you know
The Owl that Betrays or the Mouse that Grows?
#samueldaley93
Star BG Apr 25
A mouse potato sits
before computer screen
searching to occupy their mind.

Step aside book if thy had legs
Move to corner of desk telephone
longing for a voice if it could talk.

Competition rally has begun
Computer geek vs nature


Beware! New times are here
and battle begins at daybreak.
Also inspired by Lexilcon Condranax Thank you
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
Ira Desmond Nov 2018
The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.
there was a little mouse from nashville tennesee
he loved country music a star he longed to be
bought a new guitar that he learned to play
singing country songs as he strummed away.

folks they gathered round as he began to sing
joy to all the folks the little mouse would bring
he wore a cowboy hat and a waist coat to
dressed just like a cowboy like country singers do.

there was a competition so mouse he had a go
sang a country somg that everyone would know
people starting clapping and dancing to his song
they were very happy as they danced along

mouse he won the contest now a star was he
now a coutry star just like he longed to be
a country singing mouse.  from nashville tennesee
there is a video on you tube with music to this story
https://youtu.be/oBF2N3iWK4I copy and paste link
Iska Feb 2018
The false crisendo of your words
Grate against my every nerves.
Wandering round
With ****** feet
How many expectations
Have I failed to meet?

What more do you want
Of my sorry soul
When I cannot bring
My self to breath anymore?

So I watch your hopes
all tumbling down
It feels quite cold
Down here in the ground.
I'm sorry that I wasn't enough
I tried to be what you asked of me
But I didnt think it'd be So tough.

My weary bones creak and ache,
My wrist all burned and ******,
Can you not be quite just once for my sake?

I understand the gravity.
I know Im failing at life,
But you dig right in,
spreading the cavity,
How to ignore the strife?

Whispered arguments bleed through the walls
How much longer until we fall?
Through the floor straight down to ****
All because I could not tell.

Should I weep in pain,
And ***** away,
To satisfy you're whimsical ways?
Should I sell my soul,
And bite my tongue,
Just to keep the wallet full?
But "your so young,
You've no excuse,
So bend your back,
Put those hands to use."

Welcome to life.
Put away your pain,
No time for strife,
No time for play,
Just nod you head,
Exit the stage,
And get a job,
So you'll be payed.

I'd sooner live a poor church mouse,
Then lose myself in persute of a house.
But no, I'll smile my candy grin,
And talk with sugar sweet.
Hide the weight of the pain,
So your expectations, I'll meet.
Some times it's just not enough.
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Old enemies retold.
CA Guilfoyle Jul 2012
Vine maples alight
paths dappled green
forest fronds reach for skies unseen
in deeper wood comes the black of day
red cedars fallen to decay
oxalis spring - softly flowered white
sway, leaning into the light
wild berries burst upon a mossy floor
drink sweet the red wine poured
mouse and bird drunk in their delight
will cozy sleep this woodland night.
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.
Delia Darling Sep 2018
As I stand here, outside my work building
stealing a smoke break
I wonder about God and the universe
and how much happier it makes me feel
to believe in other things

That the sun was a running man
chasing the stars in that endless black
run man
run fast
run free
but freedom only gets you
slipping and sliding in circular leaps
around our earth, almost like
a clumsy mouse in a stationary wheel
and these sneaky stars
always one step ahead at sunrise
or at his heels in sunset

My mom’s a Catholic woman
she won’t believe in the running man
her stars are not stars, no
her stars are rosaries in purses and
priest’s words
taught words
holy words
but holy words are also
human words, are they not?
It never made sense to me
that a person could live their whole life
repenting it

But then again,
my dad used to have me work in our yard,
picking the weeds outside
and he let me treasure them in a vase
he never called them weeds,
they were always
dandy-flowers
wishing flowers
wildflowers
but wild only gets you
believing in the sun and
keeping shrubs in vases
All of which suit me, because

In the lonely nights of endless black,
I have the company of my own stars
and when holy words of weeds fall back
I remember that—
wild humans are only wildflowers
Just some random thoughts induced by an insignificant smoke break
As whisker-twister pauses, tho’ journey lingers on,
Sniveling and sneaking as he darts in shadows long,

And the Gallic peace; tranquility.

No food, nor sleep, no drink and no refuge, found anywhere in France,
Nowhere to run save forests, upon which he’s forced to take a chance,

And the Gallic peace; tranquility.

Scampering in shadows, with the hunter’s distance being closed,
Rodent Ambiorix, -little mouse, is paused and panting in repose,

And the Gallic peace; tranquility.

Frightened little mouse, run, yes run away,
Frightened little mouse you’ve come to rue that day,
For frightened little mouse, -Caesar’s on his way!

And the Gallic peace; tranquility.
Historical poetry.
Auroleus Oct 2012
Once not long ago
In the vile state of Utah,
An evil wizard
Impregnated a feral cat with
Mormon seed.
In no time at all,
A litter was born
And all of them died
But one–
Mittens the Kitten.

Mittens grew up with a sense of entitlement
Because the evil wizard filled his head
With the Mormon scriptures.
When Mittens would catch and **** a mouse,
The evil wizard would pet Mittens
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

In the evenings,
Mittens would enjoy a bowl of warm blood.
Sometimes it would coagulate,
But Mittens loved his blood.
He lapped it up
With a a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

The evil wizard was a Harvard Business Grad,
And since feline-humanoids were not accepted
At Harvard Business School,
The evil wizard taught Mittens
All that he knew.
Mittens soaked up the knowledge
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

Some years went by and Mittens
Became a successful business owner.
He would lap up bowls of
Other people's business
With a vigor that was borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.

Fast forward to the present tense
(My personal favorite tense)
And Mittens is running for president.
He uses his magical smirk to cloak his lies
So that naive voters might believe that
They should vote for this cat.
He smirks and he lies
With a vigor that is borderline
Inappropriate.
Mittens was bred to ****.
spysgrandson Aug 2018
the green grove a magnet to my eye
on these sun baked plains

I enter the glade to take shade with the cicadas
and vampire mosquitos

then I see it, Eden’s villain, coiled and rattling,
red ready to strike

I raise my staff, I too programmed to survive, do to what millennia
have taught

still we are in this staring standoff—silent save its rattle, deaf
I am to the chorus of insects

neither of us moves for an eternity of seconds, until the snake lunges at my feet

where its fangs find a field mouse, and devour it while I watch, an unwitting witness to expiry other than my own  

I leave the copse, whole, content another creature has, for today, taken my place in the bloodletting
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