"mouses" poems
Leafy ferns and little frogs
Toads live in the garden
Weeds and grass and daffodils
And poop...I beg your pardon
Yes **** is in there from the cat
That roams around the houses
Just pick it out or grind it in
It should be full of mouses (meeces or mice)
There's ceramic figurines in there
Little deers and little dogs
To go along with little stones
And plastic little logs
But, beware the garden gnome
A treacherous beast is he
With evil eyes and long white beard
He is plotting after thee
The garden gnome looks daffy
In his jacket and his hat
But, look deep in the gnomey eyes
And you'll see just where he's at
There's ******* blown from up the road
Candy wrappers and old tins
The neighbor kids are lazy so,
They never throw it in the bins
The cat lies sunning lazily
Beneath a summer sun of gold
With it's job of chasing meeces down
For a while, put on hold
There's ivy, climbing everywhere
And things you can not tell
They got there from the squirrels
But you keep them for the smell
But, beware the garden gnome
A treacherous beast is he
With evil eyes and long white beard
He is plotting after thee
The garden gnome looks daffy
In his jacket and his hat
But, look deep in the gnomey eyes
And you'll see just where he's at
You tend the garden lovingly
Moving figures in and out
You never move the gnomes too much
Too much trouble, I won't doubt
You transplant flowers, move some trees
Cut the weeds back, till the soil
You head inside, the whistle blows
The kettles on the boil
While you are gone, something goes on
The gnomes attack the cat
You come back out, and wonder why
The gnome has lost his hat
yes, beware the garden gnome
A treacherous beast is he
With evil eyes and long white beard
He is plotting after thee
The garden gnome looks daffy
In his jacket and his hat
But, look deep in the gnomey eyes
And you'll see he's looking at the cat!!
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
Dreams of young girls and boys, grew up between the happy endings of a tragic story, that is written by a hand who let mouses speak, and ducks suffer from ADD, an unknown was created by a man who died between the same walls i am in, staring at those walls entering the realm of his thoughts trying to solve the mystery of darkest most depressing riddles, i talked to his lost but not dead voice, leaving me with pictures moving fast, creating a message holds the answer to the voice’s master door, knees of mine touched the ground, a world of his own creation, a world he escape to,
when his soul loses it’s light, forcing that world to enter the real world, one of many “once upon a time” buried myths that hold no happy endings, merging night dreams with the real world is the worst forbidden act, walt disney you were so naive to coast your soul it’s home.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Baba tucks me into bed & I ask him to read me a story.
He tells me tales of foxes & rabbits,
Each one ending in glory.
I dream of baby bunnies with cotton tails & cottage houses,
Sneaky wolves with evil plans,
Being deceived by mouses.
Baba tucks me into bed & kisses my forehead goodnight.
We exchange our “I Love You’s” as he turns off the light.
I dream of my new school & wonder if the kids will like me,
Maybe if I pretend to be sick, Baba won’t have to take me.
I yell out to Baba “goodnight!” before closing my room door.
His footsteps keep me up at night,
Till 2 am, 3 am, 4…
I want to tell him that I’m concerned for his health,
That I love him & so much more.
I tuck Baba into bed & kiss his forehead goodnight,
Telling him tales of better days, before turning off the light…
Dec 7, 2021
Dec 7, 2021 at 8:13 PM UTC
Mouse’s are a famous breed,
From lines of kings they come.
They have a mousey song, and a mousey creed;
They love mousey cheese, and mousey ***
Mouse’s love spirits, wine, beer, and ale;
They love to chew on cheesy things.
And when they’re drunk, they will regale,
Spouting stories of mousy kings.
In mousey castle, in mousey town,
Lived a mighty mousey king.
And his mousy eyes, looked up and down,
On every big, and little thing.
But his mighty mousy features,
Were struck by mousy mope.
For all his fellow creatures,
Were bereft of *** and hope.
“No *** No rum!” They cried,
To the king as he passed by.
They wept, and sobbed, and sighed;
“Oh my, oh my, oh my”.
In the kingdom of the mouse,
There can be no greater woe,
Than to find no *** in house;
It lays the mouse’s low.
“No *** can be got”!
Stated the advisor to the king.
“We’ve all got up, and drunk the lot;
'Tis a sad and sorry thing”.
All the mousy heads,
Hung low in grim defeat.
They played with mousy threads,
With mousy hands, and mousy feet.
But the king of mouse’s rose
Standing tall upon his mitts.
Wriggled in his mousy hose,
And strained his mousy wits.
“Who can build new ***
Asked the mighty mousey king.
But all the mouse’s were dumb,
On this mighty mousey thing.
Then from out the bleachers;
Stumbled little Georgey mouse.
A smirk bestruck his features,
He was happy; he was ******
With mousy hands he gript
A bottle tall and fine
And from its neck he sipped;
A liquor; so divine.
“I shound it through zzat wall”,
Announced little Georgey mouse
“Theresh enough for one and all;
Enough to build a housh”.
He sipped the liquor fair,
And shouted, “What a corker”!
He flashed the bottle in the air;
Black label Johnny Walker.
And all the mousey squeaks,
Wrung cheer from misery.
And the cheers went on for weeks;
“Whiskey! Whiskey! Whiskey!
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 8:19 PM UTC
Clouds float across the sea like boats along the vast ocean.
Shapes form in children's heads, inspired by the unbounded clouds.
Mouses, trees, superheroes, and whatever else takes their fancy.
They form the things of dreams and reality,
In this world and the next, creating fantasies
And reminding us of reality with a short, fierce, rainstorm that leaves us
Breathless, hoping for our favorite shapes to return but they inevitably don't.
They never do...
Jun 9, 2011
Jun 9, 2011 at 8:00 PM UTC
Kitten (babies or any age/size) are small blessings from God,
When first born they are as small as a pea pod.
Unlike dogs that go bow-wow,
Kittens have a quiet meow,
Often when I look at them I say: wow,
Kitten purr so pet them now!
They are small,
They sit in the hall.
They nap all day,
And the rest of time they play,
I have a place for them in my heart;
Big or small they're smart!!
They usually catch a mouse (or mouses),
For this reason,
And many more;
It's best to keep them in the house.
~Marian~
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 6:06 PM UTC
This is not a poem just some phrases to explain my past psychosis.
I lived in complete darkness full of sad noises,
strange images
and blurry figures.
I lived in complete darkness with no love,
no emotions
and no feelings.
I kept asking myself "what's going on",
"is this the end"
and "will this ever end".
I saw spiders,
mouses
and more animals on my wall.
I heard voices ,
noises
and some of them were in my head.
I couldn't think,
sleep
or live.
I couldn't be.
I couldn't be me.
I wasn't me.
I wished i could die, so this all would end.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
There was a little mouse and he had a little house.
The little mouse lived in the little house in the little village on the river louse.
In the little village on the river louse with the little mouse, lived a little frog.
The little frog lived on a little log in the middle of a bog on the river louse and was friends with the little mouse.
The little frog who lived on the little log in the middle of a bog on the river louse had another little friend, a bee.
The little bee buzzed from tree to tree, floating merrily from flower to flower, flowers that surrounded the little house occupied by the little mouse on the river louse.
One day the mouse, the frog and the bee got together for afternoon tea.
They met at the house of the little mouse on the river louse at a quarter to three.
The mouse brought some cheese, the frog brought the tea's and the bee brought the honey and they all Sat around a table in the mouse's little house on the river louse.
The Mouse, the frog and the bee declared themselves friends for all eternity in the mouses little house on the river louse.
At a quarter to four, they all went to the door and the Mouse said goodbye to his friends.
The frog went back to sit on his log in the middle of the bog and the bee continued floating from tree to tree.
The mouse did the dishes and then rested his little head on his little bed, in his little house on the river louse.
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 4:49 PM UTC
Pebbles, rolled crystals
Tumbling from houses,
Roaring like lions
And timid as mouses
Frothy as softness
And wetter than seas,
The sweet rain cascades
On emerald-leaved trees
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
roll up! roll up!!
you fine hearted boy.
time now to put down,
the store made toys.
time to make magic...
with the inside,
of your mind
roll up! roll up!!
to the dream circus
let's see what we find....
melamine monkeys
mimic monstrousity's
mangling, minor majorities
in musical mayhem
symphonies, sublime
playing mozart in part on
a shiny yellow kazooo
meanwhile marshmallow
crocodiles smile with
mincing beguile
at ****** moo cows
meandering miles
in crooked zig-zag lines
making milkshakes
all the while...
mouses and mices
are avoiding becoming
itty bitty pieces of
rodent and crabapple pie
by milling mindlessly
around the mound
of milliners, by the by.
now to
meet and greet at the
zoo
mrs hippopotomus
has ginger biscuits and
mango milk ready for you
while you watch the fleet of zebras and their plataypi crew,
sail in the xebec regatta
twice around the isle of goo.
before saying
huzzah and hooroo
they won the championship
whoohoo!!!!
it's all a happenin,
at the bing **** bingle zoo
but for all these
amazing thing to occur
my lad
you have to pay your dues
so close your eyes,
and sleep .....
and you will see
a wonderful dream or two....
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Did you know every house needs a. Mouse ?
One day a fine lady with mousy hair and dressed in white ,
With little pink shoes ,
and pritty pink gloves ,
knocked on my door ,
" Would you care for a mouse for you'r beautiful house " ?
with a grin and a smile and a sniff of the air .
" For all the mice will run away when they see this one in marble and clay "
How sweet thought I " For two shillings " said I to keep every mouse
from field and door won't bother me no more " .
as she left a wild flurry of sleet was cast. ,
who would scamper away to the field and the grass ,
a cold wind blew .
An orange the pritty girls sold not for a penny .
To pest houses for the dying a watchman for many ,
a mother held her child for pestelance did wake .
And every mouse that scampered up drain pipes from rivers and streams ,
from underneath old floor boards and along barns and beams .
For miles and miles like a pied piper they ran ,
to see the mouse above fire place lifted on high .
Riding high and mighty this pale horse rode ,
to no houses with a mouse did he find his abode .
Only one day that mouse of clay did dust bin did lay ,
to every mouses. deep dismay ,
the oranges from pritty girls no one would buy ,
the sweet smell of flowers as death walked by .
The mouse lady knocked on yet another door
" you need a mouse for your beautiful house " ?
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 11:30 AM UTC
For one moment
And then I’ll explain
But it’s the moment
I refrain
That produces
The most rain,
More than a shaman
And more
Than a
Hurricane
But still she came
To sit on couches
And play the game
Of hands as
Mouses
But eventually
The same boils
Down the same
If you know
Wumsayin
It’s the moment
When laying
Becomes praying
For leisure
To a heavenly teacher
That isn’t certain
If such a creature
Can even see her
But she thinks she can
Of course the man
Professes nurture
But nature nurtures
Deluded pictures
Of what Is really going on.
It isn’t the draw
Of the unopened straw
It’s the way the jaw
Drops and drools
And the fact that
A car
Takes so long to
Arrive
It’s better to
Let oneself be one
Of the hive
Than to try to be cool
And take a nosedive
Directly into
The feeling in your stomach
On the carnival ride
When the ship drops
And gravity stops your heart.
To feel,
From the ground,
Another person,
On the ride,
Falling,
Is the lure.
The attraction of flame
And fuel
And broken engines.
How could the feeling
Of waking up
In the same bed
in the same room
In the same house
In the same town
Again
And
Again
Compare?
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 11:43 AM UTC
For the sake of those old cleets of yours on the floor by the door.
for they remind me of a thing, a feeling, a meaning, a truth, so very similar to a truth many might agree and feel.
Pummeled, bombarded, is the oceans of the beauty of the very love we all see.
patient, kind, loving, attentive, sensitive to the slightest motion, in turning a tightness so deserving as to render the backside of a mountain a mouses naked tail be that of our forward motion as we trains upon these rails.
hence when, has this or that been the bottom line up front* of the very essence of a man or their works , the things they have done, accused, intended or otherwise? we all yell out with a rebel yell as to say, here my friend on this very day, the deeds of a man be counted for none were missed or remissed to find light in the hearts of any good man to be shamed or shameful , for mine eyes , mine teeth, mine heart too truly do taste, see, feel the core of the you in me.
So how could it be any other way than to be tghat of honest men fighting the hardest and most dangerous fight of the very lives from time, times and half a times back.
So for the very pains you have endured, every humiliation you have embraced, every heart torn scar that has marred up your beautiful face, every single tormented manipulation you knowingly chose to walk face first into, I say to you, thank you, for you too have a heart of gold and a soul that i shall pray and stand for on any **** day, and every **** way, for the very sake of mine own.
for you too, know how truly important this really is, and what is at stake, and my good friend, we are brothers , sisters, family to the very very very and truly very bitter or beautiful end, either way, i love the you i see in me.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
darkness covers every invisible flower building a body of water towns have turned to ruins and dust A forgotten vehicles left to rest until one day a green stem arises once again turns into a magnificent flower and sits there everyday to every hour soon grow more until all that is seen is flowers in the bright grass plus the color green tree sprout and animals return and people are born to relearn Huts are made to houses that sheltered the people and little mouses huts turn into towns then to cities and then loggers get ready and down come trees grass and flowers soon nothing is left by the last hour people have gone and animals have died and once again God will cry over the land and bodies of water until one day grows a lonely flower
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
🐭🧀
I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,
I am a little lever,
by wightish weight released.
I am the
daring
domino,
Tip me over and off I go,
Tapping-time-toppling
just as mapped,
Chain reactions
crashing
choreographed.
I am the ball bearing on its
tilted track,
Precariously poised
awaiting that last flat
CRACK!
Startling astart at starting gun,
Gravity-well-willing I wobblingly spin-roll-run,
Back and forth I wander like a top,
Dizzily confused when off the end I
plop.
It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,
This cup was here to catch me... luckily.
Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,
Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.
It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,
Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.
Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,
I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,
Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)
Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.
Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,
I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:
I'm also the water cascading through air,
Splashing happily,
but predictably,
to be fair.
Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,
Releasing the cage, design-demanding.
Mouse
lever
domino
ball
cup
robot
water
cage
I might even be the little mouse's tiny outrage.
It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,
Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:
We seem to be missing one of the architects.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 1:02 AM UTC
When they see their off spring being lifted out of their place
Hung by their tail, they squeal and cry for their parents recuse, their heart's race.
Devastation stings their round soft ears as they run for their baby's call
But as they see the hand raise their child over their height of limitation, their hopes and dreams fall...
It was too late... SMACK went the poor, frail body and skull of the little one...
The hand quickly slammed it against the table... Now knocked out...no way to escape or run
SNAP The two fingers forced its neck bone to submit to their strength
The parents time of grief and mourning had no length
Frozen shock is the only expression that defines their baby mouses face
In a Blank stare of horror as the blood dripped from their once beloved babies lips... leaving a ****** taste
They scurry away in disbelief to gather the rest of their kin
that still remain alive...
Because they'll never know who will be up next... to be forced to give up their life... and die
Because... Something always has to be sacrificed... in order to keep something else alive...
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 4:10 PM UTC
I got eye strain and back pain
from sitting in the chair all day,
working my life away,
clicking on keyboards and mouses,
while staring at computer screens,
and ignoring other things;
I am detached from the fact that
there is more than just me,
because everyone I see,
every single human being
has turned into pixelated images
on the monitor I’ve monitored
all day.
Mar 6, 2021
Mar 6, 2021 at 7:58 AM UTC
the life is a world
compleatly diferent from ours
with trees and animals and beutyful things everywere
flowers and butterfly flying in the sky
lions and tigers playng with cats
elephants and mouses living together in the same house
humans and dogs with the same toys
with not a single fight about who got it first.
the death is a world
compleatly diferent from ours
with black sky with no clouds
the humans and animals and plant are disaper from the ground
the floor with a gray aspect and gloomy ground
the silent in ths air with any noise
trying to be and have more choise
and trying tho save a pice of green ground.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
Deep red in the dark forest wood,
Under the dying grey of hollow tree,
The fox and the mouses dearly fend
In the theatre wings of the fallen leaves.
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 1:52 PM UTC
Deep red in the dark forest wood,
Under the dying grey of hollow tree,
The fox and the mouses dearly fend
In the theatre wings of the fallen leaves.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
Deep red in the dark forest wood,
Under the dying grey of hollow tree,
The fox and the mouses dearly fend
In the theatre wings of the fallen leaves.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 4:14 PM UTC
dear reader
youve been up for hours
you seem so tired.
staring silently while you're crawling quietly tracing reality quickly devouring all of the star dust beyond.
you slip violently
ducking beneath rabbit holes and roots
the water rushing up to meet you
a harsh reality greets you.
fresh palm air ghosting through thine whispers of hair and the seagulls they blare a snappy tune
a cookie to grow
a potion to shrink
honestly a story
to make you think
nonsense!
you cry you bemoan you scream
where are the jokes
there wasnt meant to be any
it was ment to have a point
to make people think
the end is never the end is never the end
your twisted mind starts bickering
two cheshire cats? tweedle dee tweedle doo
tick tock
stop that clock
the small blue bunny runs far away
children with screens
implanted in their tummies
oh so yummy
so delicious
so impure
the rapture of the gods
the magic of beyond
sweet candy houses
tall angry mouses
a dream or reality
who is to say
forced joliety
joy
thats my policy
:)
Mar 17, 2025
Mar 17, 2025 at 12:52 AM UTC
mouses in houses in holes on the wall
they crawl and they tiptoe and mingle and fall
they ruin your **** and leave gifts on the floor
why don't we have mice holes anymore?
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
birds tweeting
squirrels c liming
leaves on the ground
wind blowing a breeze
cars and trucks making noise
the quietness disturbed
loudness Romes
sounds of people talking
dogs barking
everyone walking everywhere
at the library
books on every shelf
people typing away
talking in whispered voices
clicking on key boards
tapping on mouses
walking everywhere
slamming, shutting doors
noise everywhere
every day
by scarlet rose
date: Sept. 17,2014
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC