Halloween gnome named Cheesy collected black bats
They swarmed around him as if he were tuna fish cats
We could not figure it out, but it happened like crazy
Cheesy was a baker, up early, never a teensy bit lazy
Maybe it was his scones, his muffins and such
But bats adored Cheesy, they liked him ever so much
They glommed onto him every month, not just Halloween
They landed on his knees, his neck, forever with him seen.
Puppies and birds, they were Clarise’s go-to’s.
She always had her eyes out, she never did snooze.
Fishing them out of crevices, crannies and old boats.
She never brought home llamas, donkeys or goats.
Puppies and birds, she collected faster than most.
I have sixty-two robins, she said in way of a boast.
Her blue glasses were always full of dribbles of white.
These birds let down squirts on every one of their flights.
The puppies seemed happy, none were in cages or a pen.
I cannot open the door, she said, afraid I can’t let you in.
We didn’t want in there, but we liked seeing Clarise.
She has a keen sense of humor, and empathy, my little niece.
Rainbow bird collected her twins the second she knew
The tropical forest was now being shared by a notorious two
A black panther and a large leopard who loved a tasty treat
They especially enjoyed the succulent taste of baby birds, so sweet.
The twins were tweeting that she was squashing them so
They wanted to fly off, for they were babies who did not know
The dangers that awaited out in the wild, they wanted to go
Rainbow bird told them to stay right with her, and fly very slow.
Dust floats in the air like it belongs there,
and then accumulates on everything.
Dead skin and mites suspended in mid-air
adhere to practically anything;
sullying surfaces to which they cling.
Dust bunnies gather, morphing into balls;
that hide under beds and roll down the halls.
Dust spreads allergens, dander, and pet hair
that collects in corners and sticks to walls:
it's everywhere, yet no one seems to care.
A child collects some sand with hand
And so he calls it "motherland".
To some sand, castles are built high
Flowers are grown for dewy morn
Flags are furled in cloudy sky
But by fort's flag the flower's forlorn.
Children gather some sand with hands
And so they call it "motherlands".
As the night collects your debt
Find this the rotting door now thrust,
creaking screams align the mire
Loosened shadows coughing dust
in a world now set afire
Worry gathers in the mist,
along a crooked staircase rise
Nooses hang from rafter’s twist,
portraits gaze through swollen eyes
Smell the stench of fevers past,
sweat does stream of wallowed reach
Moors in line of wretched cast,
lessons taught but not to teach
Break this bread of mirrored shard,
slurp your lime serrated drink
Write as if a napkin bard,
any thought with which you think
Last, these days of sorted lanes,
walking chains and lockets bore
Weakness in your heart now claims
of a time you lived before
Stare the darkness now you keep,
forcing out a sad regret
You shall sow the fear you reap
as the night collects your debt
the lake collects tears
the tears are baptised and freed
when freed, all is well....
beekeeper collects
honey with protective gear
gets stung by wife's words
The man who collects
evening clocks
has no idea about time.
When some rain.
Yesterday.
Today.
Tomorrow.
(says in surprise)
When you look
and your finger points
somewhere behind the eyes.
“Everything flows and
flows out.”
And the old houses are opening
small umbrellas.
the girl who collects
umbrellas and
sand of the dune
collects
wings of the sea
the girl collects
wings
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