Three Blind Mice On Duty

When I was only two bricks and a ticky high I wrote my first ever treatise Three blind mice unbeknown to me highly philosophical not just to please The Gods of poetry duty bound on their quest to proofread censor and edit My naïve imagination and fantastical mind they simply would not credit Since then I’ve moved on to more realistic poems topics themes of passion Crimes battles conjectures refutations marginalization in critical fashion Three horsemen of the apocalypse trinity triangular thoughts ménage à trois Lust love death betrayal injustice and triads of champagne caviar and foie gras Hunger and poverty contra-posing luxury greed bombs shrapnel and aggression The mice are not so blind any longer to evil or conquest and in one session Of writing I cover more than foul smelling cheese contempt and a mouth trap Open your eyes I suggest but be aware that you will have to ponder and unwrap My rhymes verses allegories and metaphors come three to a bloody shilling Pieces of silver pot of tar at the end of a rainbow but you have to be willing To inscribe your own meaning to my writings and shed your deluded illusion That poesy and balladry is only to suit your cause there will be mental contusion I’ll shout like a rodent from the marble mantlepiece of your decadent abode Crap on the carpet rattle your cage until you collapse in agony and corrode Take the carpet from under your feet and replace it with venomous gifts Until you let go off your crystal decanter of falseness to welcome a shift Of consciousness comfort and conscience of classical allegiances’ deceit Questions truths and foundations of hypocrisy only you are able to retreat Into novel awareness away from your sewer manholes and decadent stench Remove the cataracts that impede your vision and look at the deep trench Which my little mice can easily jump out from for they’re not smelly as such Want to live in peace eat a few crumbs with no effort they don’t ask for much Do not need your blinkers's futile explanations and can’t count one two three Whereas you could if you applied a bit less blindsight and looked for the key Love does not come from complacency and self-serving pleasure quite contraire Kindness is free and unconditional it only involves warmth and empathic care Compassion starts with affection consideration tolerance patience and good will My poetry comes with a label of warning read at your peril because it may kill 09th October 2020 A Poet's Duty Contest Sponsor Beth Evans