He pulled and parked the supply red wagon,
then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin.
Captain Red is ready for adventure.
A quest to collect the world's best treasure.

His pirate crew is renowned far and wide.
They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry.
But none of them boys has the captain's stuff.
So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff.

This motley crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings.

"Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch
and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche.
These rolling green hills are now ocean waves.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne.
Impeding the journey that just began.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn.
...
Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide.
They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie.
But none of these girls has commander's stuff.
So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff.

This brainy crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs.

"Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch
and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche.
These rural backyards are now rocky space.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin.
Impeding the flight before it begins.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn.
...
Boys and girls grow up and out the front door.
Those children’s games evolve to adult chores;
those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.

THE CONSTELLATION OF THE GIRL FROM WALLA-WALLA

I lick her lifeline
"Oh I can see you are
going to have a wet wet life!"

she watches the tip of
my tongue crawl along her heart line
"You will have many many kisses!"

she sips her fine wine
laughs...munches
sweet onions

all I say
comes true right away
guess I got it right

cute girl from
Walla-Walla sleeping
just up against the Pacific Ocean

"Shhhh..!" says the Pacific Ocean
as it watches over
her sleep

I place DayGlo stars
on all her extremities
she becomes her own constellation

the constellation of
the Girl From Walla-Walla
being looked after by a specific Ocean

"Walla-Walla!"
the waves call to her
but she's lost inside a dream

"Are you really a real Walla-Wallan?"
I ask of her
"Yep!" she grins "I'm the real thing!"

"The only Walla-Wallan
I knew before I knew you
was a girl in a book!"

I turn the snow-dome
up-side d-own
watch it snow forever

I remember her
letter telling me
of a snowstorm she once knew

"I took a little of the snowstorm
put it in the fridge so
it could melt in July."

"The snow storm had never met
a July before
so this was its big chance!"

"When the left-over snowstorm
finally got to meet its July
it cried itself into oblivion!"

"...here. . ." her letter
pauses for ever
outside snow falls now

Eratic Plastic Dysphemistic Euphemisms

the rain in Spain
falls mainly on the plain
while the dome in Rome
is a place to call home
and the gazoot in Beirut
is in cahoot
with the Neo in Reo
and his brother Theo
and Levi in Shanghai
munches blueberry pie
the roast on the coast
has been burnt like the toast
and my frog on the log
barks like a dog
its a pity how gritty
it is in ** Chi Minh City
never challange Mr Wong to play ping pong
in Hong Kong
or smoke a bowl with a mole
in old town Seoul
or the gendarme will storm
the crowd in Pittsburgh

Gomer LePoet...

Above the forest of the parakeets,
A parakeet of parakeets prevails,
A pip of life amid a mort of tails.

(The rudiments of tropics are around,
Aloe of ivory, pear of rusty rind.)
His lids are white because his eyes are blind.

He is not paradise of parakeets,
Of his gold ether, golden alguazil,
Except because he broods there and is still.

Panache upon panache, his tails deploy
Upward and outward, in green-vented forms,
His tip a drop of water full of storms.

But though the turbulent tinges undulate
As his pure intellect applies its laws,
He moves not on his coppery, keen claws.

He munches a dry shell while he exerts
His will, yet never ceases, perfect ****,
To flare, in the sun-pallor of his rock.

THE CONSTELLATION OF THE GIRL FROM WALLA-WALLA

I lick her lifeline
"Oh I can see you are
going to have a wet wet life!"

she watches the tip of
my tongue crawl along her heart line
"You will have many many kisses!"

she sips her fine wine
laughs...munches
sweet onions

all I say
comes true right away
guess I got it right

cute girl from
Walla-Wall sleeping
just up against the Pacific Ocean

"Shhhh..!" says the Pacific Ocean
as it watches over
her sleep

I place DayGlo stars
on all her extremities
she becomes her own constellation

the constellation of
the Girl From Walla-Walla
being looked after by a specific Ocean

"Walla-Walla!"
the waves call to her
but she's lost inside a dream

"Are you really a real Walla-Wallan?"
I ask of her
"Yep!" she grins "I'm the real thing!"

"The only Walla-Wallan
I knew before I knew you
was a girl in a book!"

I turn the snow-dome
up-side d-own
watch it snow forever

I remember her
letter telling me
of a snowstorm she once knew

"I took a little of the snowstorm
put it in the fridge so
it could melt in July."

"The snow storm had never met
a July before
so this was its big chance!"

"When the left-over snowstorm
finally got to meet its July
it cried itself into oblivion!"

"...here. . ." her letter
pauses for ever
outside snow falls now

Here the horse munches the grass
little knowing the trots of yore
for time when lays the bricks with curse
unhinges the strongest door.

Here the horse is tethered to feed
little hearing the neighs of past
for time when crumbles sows a seed
grows new order from soil of dust.

Here the horse lazes in sun
little seeing the shadow's growth
for time when ends a period's run
buries in the walls a lover's oath.

Here the horse walks in a round
little feeling the earth's spin
for time when shrinks the highest to ground
kingdoms fall in heaps of ruin.

Slugs!

Foul slugs leave their trails of shining misery.
Where they had been,
So obviously marked.
Eating green stuff in their path.
The sunlight drew the greenery out into the day.
Almost saying eat me please.
Well eat me anyway.

At sluggish face.
She slowly states.
'Smile please'.
No darling.
A face without expression.
In fact without a face.

This slug faced being,
Only munches greenery.
It hates cheese and slime.
Not keen on saline either.
It makes it's insides melt.
And the outside too.
Nothing left but shiny mark.
A little bit of soggy sludge!

I detest slugs and I'm not a gardener!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

The little lamb totters around on unsteady legs,
Pretending
That its limbs are sure and strong.
It diverts from the flock,
Frolicking and prancing around in the mud.
Oh! What’s this? Grass! Green grass!
Better grass!
It charges forward, fast as its scrawny,
Spindly legs can go.
The lamb’s almost there, when
BLAM!

Silly lamb.
There’s a wall there, you know.
No matter how hard you try,
You won’t get pas—
Oh. You did.

The lamb munches happily on this new grass.
It finishes and looks around.
It bleats in alarm when it sees
How far the flock has gone.
It bleats again, charges forward…
BLUNK!

Stupid lamb.
The wall’s gone and sealed itself.

KUNK!
THWUNK!

It won’t reopen.
Stupid, stupid lamb.

She can’t walk alone
Her skin could not be shown
Her knowledge is useless
Her success is fruitless
Her earnings are not well off
She cannot trough
Her legs should not be spread
She shall not lie in any men’s bed
She better be home by six
If not she would be considered as ******* *****
Her opinion never mattered
Her dignity should never be scattered
Her thoughts and body should be innocent and pure
She shall not be dressed well otherwise she has someone to lure
Yet she smiles to herself as she wanders the dark alley
79th street valley
Her fingers intertwined with hers
Dollar bills over flowing her purse
She lies sprawled on the dead street her hands pulling at her risen skirt
Tugging at her girlfriend’s shirt
She munches on the Coney dog famous in Michigan
Leans over and whispers “at least there is 1 rule I have not broken”

we're getting older
too
time is slipping past us
permeating through our bones
making them as fragile as the
peanut brittle my grandmother munches
every Sunday afternoon

Ritualistically
i scan your social media
secretly check up on your well being

i long to savor your skin once again
i want our legs to intermingle
and our hair to tangle
i want sweat coating our bare bodies

i want you
in the simplest ways
i want you
in every crevice of my being

I'm facing down the beast
It's constant assault will never cease
It's ridged, but everything to it's will bends
Beyond this earth it transcends

It eventually leaves everything to rust and ruin
On and on it keeps on chewing
There is no stopping it, I'm only human
It's always there, always looming

In it's clutches there is nothing but change
It just loves to rearrange
Mountains it will not let stand
Oceans it will turn to sand

Every single thing, it touches and rapes
Even in the coffin there is no escape
It still munches and shapes

Dead and dying dreams, it leaves in it's wake
Everything it will forsake
It's always there to leave it's mark
In the light or in the dark

So while we're here ring the bells, let them chime
While there's still a mountain, climb
After all, you can't change time

She rocks her cape with dignity
An air of quiet that leaves many in awe
Her hands itch at the sound of a battle cry
Her guilty pleasure;proving CANT is a myth.
She munches  daily on impossible
And looks in awe as the inches of self sacrifice bulge at her waistline.

After all she's been through
Though  deemed legendary
Arms toned with the weights of men she has been lifting
Her breast perfect pillows for the weary
Her eyes as round as the globe
Superwoman never learnt
You cant carry the world quite well
If your spine is cracked with the need of being saved as well

an antique house
sits happy and run banquets
every glint of the moon
***** of beams spread out the sky horizon -
giving warmth and fascination

tables and chairs parties
with delicious drinks and cakes
glasses and plates dance its music beyond the wall
the munches and the cheers and the sips -
reverberating all my senses

smiles welcome you
“come join the party with us
feel the pleasure of your home
as you eat your time on"
At the corner,

a big collection of words
quietly squatting side by side
that reads a strange tongue
and a nineteen sixty three vintage camera
sitting on a run down shelf,

my curiosity my fingers
run on its face in wonderment
the cozy sofa looks pale and gray
carries the weight of the earth
looking sad and tired

but gives pleasure and comfort to all
love and pain
under the spell of mango and peach tea -
carefree spirits
only stirring memories

with our spoons out in the air
and we breathe
smell
eat
to our endless satisfaction

Serious talk
The morning service was about
Taking one day at a time
and forget your worries
While the piles of backlog unpaid bills bow
in the letter rack, the bill collectors calling
every hours of the day using those 1 800 numbers

And there I was standing by the kitchen sink,
doing the dishes from the night before:

while I pondered about the ambulance bill,
the credit card bill, so many *******  bills,
If I was to drop dead today,
Who would pay those bills?
Who would wash those dishes?

So I took out my small *** from under the counter,
And filled it up with water and gently turned on the stove
I began to cook my favorite porridge,
Oatmeal mixed with saga
I clean down the kitchen counter,
I gather my thoughts, I became the cookie poet of the month
while i munches on my words

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.
The important thing is not to stop questioning. Quote:
As I continued to stir the mixture together on the stove top
I kept thinking about the homeless people

Less worries, no bill, no bill collectors, no
Letters rack, just the last car on the last train track
And a sign that read do you have any loose change?

Behind the trunk of the mango tree
Farmer breaths the fresh air free
The farmer vigilantly guards the rice field
Waits for good yield
His wife collects dry roti for him
He munches holding the aluminum plate in the rim
The scare crow leans against the haystack
With its torn off hat and crack
The cool water flows from the well
Farmer rests upon the green grass to dwell
He hums a folk tune
Hard toil he is immuned

THE CONSTELLATION OF THE GIRL FROM WALLA-WALLA

I lick her lifeline
"Oh I can see you are
going to have a wet wet life!"

she watches the tip of
my tongue crawl along her heart line
"You will have many many kisses!"

she sips her fine wine
laughs...munches
sweet onions

all I say
comes true right away
guess I got it right

cute girl from
Walla-Wall sleeping
just up against the Pacific Ocean

"Shhhh..!" says the Pacific Ocean
as it watches over
her sleep

I place DayGlo stars
on all her extremities
she becomes her own constellation

the constellation of
the Girl From Walla-Walla
being looked after by a specific Ocean

"Walla-Walla!"
the waves call to her
but she's lost inside a dream

"Are you really a real Walla-Wallan?"
I ask of her
"Yep!" she grins "I'm the real thing!"

"The only Walla-Wallan
I knew before I knew you
was a girl in a book!"

I turn the snow-dome
up-side d-own
watch it snow forever

I remember her
letter telling me
of a snowstorm she once knew

"I took a little of the snowstorm
put it in the fridge so
it could melt in July."

"The snow storm had never met
a July before
so this was its big chance!"

"When the left-over snowstorm
finally got to meet its July
it cried itself into oblivion!"

"...here. . ." her letter
pauses for ever
outside snow falls now

A child of autumn lives next door,
her face glows with amber blush;
Her lovely voice floats through the air,
so soft and tender is her touch.

Just sweet sixteen with freckles,
and bright ribbons in her hair;
With a flouncy skirt of gingham,
as she prances across the square.

She gathers leaves in woven baskets,
then brings them back to me;
This gesture always warms my heart,,
as we share some cinnamon tea !

Her smile is quite infectious,
as she munches on a scone;
But soon she rushes off to see,
her mama and papa at home.

Endearing child of autumn,
forever close in my aging heart;
Your life holds years of happiness,
when from this earthly world I part.

I'm facing down the beast
It's constant assault will never cease
It's ridged, but everything to it's will bends
Beyond this earth it transcends

It eventually leaves everything to rust and ruin
On and on it keeps on chewing
There is no stopping it, I'm only human
It's always there, always looming

In it's clutches there is nothing but change
It just loves to rearrange
Mountains it will not let stand
Oceans it will turn to sand

Every single thing, it touches and rapes
Even in the coffin there is no escape
It still munches and shapes

Dead and dying dreams, it leaves in it wake
Everything it will forsake
It's always there to leave it's mark
In the light or in the dark

So while we're here ring the bells, let them chime
While there's still a mountain, climb
After all, you can't change time

I'm facing down the beast
It's constant assault will never cease
It's ridged, but everything to it's will bends
Beyond this earth it transcends

It eventually leaves everything to rust and ruin
On and on it keeps on chewing
There is no stopping it, I'm only human
It's always there, always looming

In it's clutches there is nothing but change
It just loves to rearrange
Mountains it will not let stand
Oceans it will turn to sand

Every single thing, it touches and rapes
Even in the coffin there is no escape
It still munches and shapes

Dead and dying dreams, it leaves in it's wake
Everything it will forsake
It's always there to leave it's mark
In the light or in the dark

So while we're here ring the bells, let them chime
While there's still a mountain, climb
After all, you can't change time

I wish for misty drizzle days
Instead this dusty smoke,
A cheap replacement for petrichor.

Longing for the cozy hug of a droopy sweater or flannel shirt around my shoulders
I find comfort in soft cloth.

Waiting for late mornings,
Cups of steamy tea,
Or frothy cider with warming spices,
Faded book covers and stretching knitted blankets,
Gray dawns and wordless smiles.

Because I am a mouse,
Who munches on crunchy orange and yellow leaves for inspiration.

Who admires the fluttering and faintly glimmering spiderwebs,
Adorned by tiny drops of diamond dew.

Who loves dripping,
Just barely ripe apples
Ones with pieces that tear away with a juicy crunch.

Who hides her soul in towering, curly fern leaves,
Surrounded by ghostly green tree moss,
Wispy strands hanging down like ancient whiskers.

As all are against auspicious atrocities, agitating aspirants arbitrate astounding audience,
Blow by blow breaking brown bricks brings barbarous battle because blue birds break bad bottles,
Clicking clocks cover cocktail coffee converging corners calling cakewalk cobwebs commercially,
Dancing dolls drink diluted droplets drowning deep digging diversifying didactic doctorates,
Enriching eulogy edifies every evaluator easily energetically emitting extra efforts efficiently,
Fleeting floppies fully fascinated flop frolic fantasy for forgetting farewell fashion falsely,
Girls going gliding gymnastics goggling goals gripped glittering gestures gaining gracelessly,
High heels horrify hectic horses hurrying heedlessly hitting hot hotels harshly,
Intuitive ideology intensified in ink ideas illustratively immersed in illusive ice,
Jack judges jugglers juggling judiciously jumping jelly just jotting juicy jam,
Kaleidoscopic kettle kicking knight killing kite knocking Kentucky’s knot,
Lollipop ladies looking like lovely locusts lingering loose lips largely,
Mocking monkey munches marigold molecules marching marvelously,
Nightly naughty nymphs narrate nautical notes nine notches necking necklaces,
Obviously obscure obesity obtains oriental origami organizing Orlando’s oration,
Pinky pig punches paper *** pulling plaits powerfully putting pretty pens,
Queens queuing quickly quarterly quantum queer quagmire,
Ripples revolting rides revolving right rigorously raising rings round,
Silver stallion struggles striding straight showing somersaults shaking shells,
Tadpole tornadoes torture tinkering tumbler tickling tiny thistles,
Umbrella utopia ushers utility utensils unimaginably under usurping unity,
Vanishing vanity velocity vulnerably vindicates valuable vessel,
Warbling wobbles worry waves wantonly whitewashing walls wastefully,
Xylophone X-mas ‘xpresses’ xiphoid xebec xeroxing xylan xylite,
Youthful yearning yields yearlong yellow yachts yelping yolks,
Zealous zephyr zoologically zigzagging zinc zippering zillion.

Candy apple rain
Sweetness in those lips,
Picture of you did
Launch a thousand ships.
My sweet little, Lady Luck
The woman of my dream.
You could never end up
In Edvard munches scream.
They you were inside a frame
Decorating my papered wall,
Im still dreaming that one sunny day,
That you might give me a call.
Candy apple rain
Blossoming everyday
Pleasure from your poster
Pleased me in just that perfect way.

The giantess likes to eat
cake pans, crunchy
fishshells with fishink

cheese boards and cell goblets
gland sweat, salad Russians
peachicks and bean runners

she sniffs up sausage smoke
and krautsauer, munches
on fruit stones

takes tomatoes for desert
with white cheese goats
and always hungers

for Himmel und Erde