"mousey" poems
A is for anthill which I have in my drive
B is for buzzing from a hidden bee hive
C is for cockroach that run all round the house
D is for droppings, that have been left by a mouse
E is for egg sack that hangs in my trees
F is for flying which the bugs do with ease
G is is for gophers which inhabit my yard
H is for hillocks with which my yard is marred
I is for insects which are all I can see
J is for june bugs, they're as big as my knee
K is for killing which I try to do
L is for lugworms that are shaped like a *****
M is for Mickey and his mousey like friends
N is for never...this infestation won't end
O is for Oscar, my scared orange cat
P is for well...pee...and he's good at that
Q is for quinine which I leave out to treat
R is for rodents, which I want Oscar to eat
S is for slugs which are killing my grass
T is for totalled, just give me a match and some gas
U is for underwriter who has insured my place
V is for vermin, that now own all my space
W is for water with which I started a flood
X is for poison, which will thin out their blood
Y is for Yertle, a turtle by suess
Z is me sleeping...to bugs and vermin on the loose
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
Open the door now.
Go roll up the collar of your coat
To walk in the changing scarf of mist.
Tell your sins here to the pearl fog
And know for once a deepening night
Strange as the half-meanings
Alurk in a wise woman's mousey eyes.
Yes, tell your sins
And know how careless a pearl fog is
Of the laws you have broken.
2.7k
How far would you travel from where you were born?
She spends more on her dogs in one week,
Than the government provides for those in trouble.
She’s a naturally happy person.
The mottled concrete walls of the council block she’s moved in to,
Complement her pock-marked, pink skin.
For a rich person,
She’s ugly.
The doors to buildings are painted bright colours,
-blues and greens-
And stand out against the brown stone that is everywhere.
Kevin is a mousey young man with stringy brown hair,
Recovering from drugs,
And she thinks he looks like a very nice man.
They are playing football on cement outside,
-plants are expensive-
Now talking over vegetables, around a table,
About the young mothers who will be coming in to learn,
How to grow turnips -
Like growing confidence, they’ll be told.
Did you know that people move to Dundee from Warsaw?
Makes you wonder what Warsaw is like-
-who’s fault it is that people can’t eat alcohol-
She’s hanging knickers out to dry and telling me that she’s discovered,
She doesn’t need all the shoes that she has,
And would it do if she were to donate,
A hundred and fifty thousand pounds?
They smile when they receive their checks.
Their blue doors fly open,
And when they say thank you, they mean it,
The money is enough.
Round the back,
The husband is in tears.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
I rub my hands
Along my scalp
I watch the hair
Fall in the sink
Bleach blonde hair
With mousey brown roots
Locks upon locks
Falling to the sink
I tell myself I'm brave
I can do this
My hair will grow back
Yet I still cry
As I watch all the hair
That he touched
Fall to the sink
The hair that he stroked
The hair that he pulled
The hair that he brushed
out of my eyes
I watch him leave my head
Along with the last thing he touched
My hair
Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 8:15 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
‘Why ask’,said the field mouse to Hedgehog
Who scuttled along softly on four short legs
Wearing a bobble hat made of apache wool
‘I don’t know but truths must be brought on.’
‘Yes’, said Mousey as it perched with fairy
In the brown bed filled with green cuttings
For only here with my friend is the world’s
Beauty allowed a sharing heart and voice.
So take me into the garden with pink roses
Growing one with up turned bright bud
Shoes holding tightly your peering down
Fills out the future with seeded windmills.
Love Mary x
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 2:49 PM UTC
This is my mouse
Lives at my house
Sleeps in a cage
Lives on a shelf
Such a sweet mousey she is
So forgiving
Forever humble
I have a bashful mouse
In side
Ignore the mouse and
It will chew a hole to break free
Forgive the mouse, the hole will
Still be there
Mousey just wants to run free
It is a cute pet mouse
Domesticated from nature
The instincts never die
For they live inside
Stand aside
There is a mouse
Coming through
I'd say you got a cute mousey too ;)
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
Alright all you pigeon chests
Came the sound of thunder from the open door
As Big Bad Bart replaced the space
Giant mountain man of lore
Making his way into the bar
Sweeping Nancy boys out of his way
Stepping up to the the jukebox
Kicking it till some good ole country boy music played
This mountain man has made it his goal
To grab hold and unsissify
Any Wimpy Wally's
That happen to catch his manly eye
He started off his conquest
Out in the great North wood
First stop The Red Eye Back Door Saloon
Need I explain the name to you
He went in with his moral barrels a blazing
But there wasn't much he could do
Village people the only band on the jukebox
Y.M.C.A. being the only tune
He didn't let that little nitch stop him
Or slow him down by any means
Giving America back to the menly men
And not the mousey men with their girly dreams
Till the day that Bart locked eyes with Stanly
In that San Francisco flower bar
Those two haven't left each others side
Going through life now arm and arm
They spend their time skipping through fields of pansies
Giggling freely hand in hand
The way Bart now feels this was meant to be
Mia Mono, Man to Man
Bart's lumberjack buddies can't believe it
And don't know what to think of their friend
Although they all secretly admit
He does look good in those Hot Pink Hot Pants
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
I'll get me a yappy dog
A small one
Scrappy.
He'll screech and holler
Like a rat lost in the dark
Oh how it'd be
To bear such a mark.
I'll get me a mousey dog
A youngish one
Mousey.
She'll annoy me in the mornin'
Evenin'
Night
Back to the height of the sun.
She'll tap and scrap till...
I can't take it anymore...
Maybe I'll get a biggun one
It'll protect me
Like a gun
She'll keep watch
While I be sleepin'
Till they put out some food
And continue on creepin...
Well maybe a medium one
Crazy as can be
Runnin' out in the mornin' sun
He'll play catch and give chase
Run with the pack
Cageless and free
Until I bring it inside...
Well, now it's gone to ***
On the carpet...
Doggon it
Maybe I'll throw out that dish
Send 'em back to the homestead
Perhaps get a fish instead...
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
EEEEEEK! She shrieked as
Lucky black cat spat
A mouse into the house
SKEEEEEEK! Squeaked said mouse
Paddling skedaddling hither thither
Seeking sites secure
Said mouse booked it to bedroom
Cornered itself into a corner
SQUEEEEEAKING!
Himself (and black cat) tried to help
Poking prodding mouse to come out
Critter capered up my trouser
And lept!
Disappeared!
We slept.
From boudoir to bath
I find next morning mousy
Tentatively treading toilet water
What a fright!
All night!
All his might!
Suavely saving mousey
Glad I put gloves on as its
Teeth deployed deeply
Outside with him.
Run away!
Cat’s watching.
Heart beating
Lungs working
Stay alive, little guy!
Later, Fred keeping watch
The little grey fluff is gone
I mean: really gone
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 9:58 PM UTC
Little lashes
Bopping on heads
Off goes one
In drool and
Headphones
The big green monster
The mousey placemat
The heavy breathing of congestion
The one lullaby
The one mother
Your little boy world
I love him through
You
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 9:11 PM UTC
She had mousey brown hair
Always in a bun.
Her hazel eyes turned grey at times,
And she got pink in the sun.
She stood taller than I;
Though I desperately tried
To grow that extra four inches
Alas my genetics determined
It would not be so.
Her hands were not distinguished
But rather soft yet common.
(I grew very well acquainted with those knuckles.)
Her body once lithe before childbirth
Became a homely pear.
Not much, you may say, to look at.
But there were days, I'll tell you,
When she was more beautiful
Than the red harvest moon.
The days on which she smiled.
Those are the days I search for
In my memory.
For that is all I have left of her, you see.
Just this artfully lacking description
Based upon fading photographic memories.
Nothing tangible.
Just this imaginable
Portrait of my mother.
I miss who she used to be.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
Fire and Ice
Leather and Lace
Be one or the other
But do it with grace
Long skirts or minis
Sinner or saint
Just be who you are
Don't be who you ain't
There is no real reason
To put on a mask
Just think who you're hiding
There's no need to ask
They say there's a heaven
And there's also a hell
It's your choice where you're going
But, you never can tell
Are you buyer or seller
Are you leading the way
Are you one who's a worker
Or one who just plays?
Wearing high heels or sneakers
Stocking or socks
Are you dressed up all mousey
Or dressed like a fox
Leather and Lace
Sinner or Saint
Be just who you are
Don't be who you ain't
There's pressure around you
To change who you are
Is it worth all the trouble
For, you've made it this far
Your road's not determined
You choose the fork you should take
No devil or angel
It's your decision to make
But, whichever direction
You should choose to make yours
Don't burn all your bridges
Or close all your doors
The road is a circle
You can change it in time
But it's your choice to change it
Not hers, his or mine
The world is just waiting
It's there waiting for you
It's not just for men
It's a woman's world too
So, devil or angel
Sinner or saint
Just be who you are
Don't be who you ain't !!!!
..
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 6:29 AM UTC
sailing for better shores, or abandoned islands,
folding paper boats, destined for the mainland.
sat on a bench an hour and a half, out on that bay,
watching seagulls scream,
walking through the dusty overgrowth in a daydream haze,
drawing tiny recipes for loneliness
out of the thin air.
for three days,
haven't seen fit to eat or drink;
all sustenance just unsettles
that terrible ache
in the pit of this assemblage of flesh,
as long days curl into the crescent of
such half-hearted lunar illumination
the sand always brings those thoughts back-
how the lights out east
strangled the knots
in that mousey forest of hair,
eyes, opaque in the shade of half of a hand,
watching the clock,
with nowhere to be.
she disappeared
like paper boats sailing out to sea.
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 8:14 PM UTC
no talk
i was with my mate going to work
when i saw the couple on the bus
they were young and in their 20s
he had mousey hair and she was blond
they were taking time out
and travelling in the philippines
she was finishing her teacher training
and he was a soldier between deployments
while i was commuting to work
in the city to my bpo job
we talked in my head
not in the real world
they were innocent and untouched
she wasn't abused by her students
he hadn't seen his mates blown up
all that was to come
should i of warned them?
be vigilant and strong
but no no no
they had to learn for themselves
the london couple on the makati bus
they reminded me of my old mates
when i lived in essex and london
years ago...
...3 were soldiers
where are they now?
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
It's the same old betrayal I've been expecting,
with hair like fire she graced you, two
hawks circling high above your prey,
my mousey whiskers trembling in anticipation
to be snapped up by bony yellow beaks
and see my friends stand with the same old pathos
saying it's not my fault and never was.
I wonder why I ever came out from under my rock
and why I stepped long legged into the path
of predators. Why did I expect different
when experiments have provided me with quite
conclusive data. Why would I,
seeing no merit in faith, be as blind as this?
Air headed blonde ***** with a high IQ and no smarts?
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Doggie Dog, Doggie Dog
Writing in his doggie blog.
Catty Cat, Catty Cat
Chillin' in her catty flat.
Mousey Mouse, Mousey Mouse
Cleaning up his mousey house.
Foxy Fox, Foxy Fox
Packing up her foxy box.
Ducky Duck, Ducky Duck
Swimming in the gunky muck.
Goosy Goose, Goosy Goose
Putting her smart mind to use.
Ratty Rat, Ratty Rat
Story's over. That is that.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 1:31 PM UTC
working in the sweltering sun, had to stay till the job was done
i started to sing : " staying alive " as the sweat poured down my thighs
then i saw her with the convertible top down
her hair was short and mousey brown
her rosy lips complimented her smile, she had grace, she had style
she gave me a bottle of water to cool me down
smiled and said : " see you around "
i sipped the water very slow , and her body i wanted to know
i had to finsh this job on time, cause all day long she was on my mind.
quitting time was getting near, and when i turned she was there.
" hey cable guy- i liked what i saw, came back to see some more "
she parked her car and got out - this is what life s all about.
short shorts, high heels, and she wore a tied up blouse
her long tanned legs complimented the look
i knew right then that i was hooked.
walking over she grabbed my face and planted kisses in every space.
then her lips finally met mine, and took me beyond all time.
she pulled away from me and with that smile asked if i wanted
to go to her house for a while, and make passionate love all night
untill the early morning light.
my hands started to tremble and my voice started to shake
as i rushed to the car before it was too late.
she was true to her word and we made love all night
i'm glad as hell " that she's my wife "
ha -ha hope you enjoyed this tale !
(C) L . RAMS 071815
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Jesus ******* christ
I would not let anything get in the way of my work and now
A face round and plain and full of darkness
Is in my thoughts
Mousey like Carrie
You would think she was strange too.
And I had a calm conversation
About weather
And then chucky.
There was no use to feign.
and I let my guard down on her.
Yet she's still there,
Why.
and I don't know if I can
get rid of her face
her two sunken eyes
lined with what? charcoal?
Her face was carved from ashes
She's something the moon would say
if it could speak.
What the hell.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 1:43 AM UTC
Champagne slacks, barn brown plaid patterned down
a watch that tells the time, the temperature (sunny and 75), and the number of suitors on read. The blouse is smart, the woman is mousey.
She tells and re-tells her employees the secret to success is listening. Between emails to accounts payable, she stares into middle distance, she pretends to stare into middle distance, she pretends to flashback, she flashes back for her team, her team watches her through the glass windows of her office, they're always watching. The floor plan is open. We should all be more open, she often says during interdepartmental collaboration meetings. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday nights she opens herself like a letter, while the blue glow from her phone lights her face, a concession, a weakness, but is it a weakness if it's scheduled? If it's ritual? And love is a powerful thing (if it's withheld). And empathy will take you far (if it's weaponized). And life is beautiful (from the corner office).
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 12:30 PM UTC
.
& you with heart & mind
For sale
<>
a little show of Power
& here you are !
:::
I little show of Truth
& there you go !
#
We know how love can save a soul
We look at each other thinking
OH **** YOU
••
who should we elect for president ?
Mickey Mouse or Mousey Mike
Or the guy over there with his head up his *** ?
••
We as a nation
Are a total ******* ****** up farce
Wearing animal faces
And having no heart
><
only I
( & maybe you ? )
trying to live true
•
•
I wonder if Barbie Doll is running ?
//
Me ?
I like the **********
Hangs out on 5th Ave
she's honest at least
( Ya give her yer $5
& ye gets yer blow job ! )
••
The rest are simply hell on earth
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC