In the small crawl space
just past the two kitchen hangars
where one pole is north face
and in the deep south is the other's
that place be called Monkeyland,
where fishes hop o'er clouds,
and cats and dogs walk hand in hand,
doves dive not flocks but crowds,
the Crab Fest is a spectacle,
a wonder to behold,
show ends, then the incredible,
the taste test wins the gold,
you'll hear tales from a pair of keys (parakeets),
perched within an igloo,
you'll eat a knifeful of fresh peas
and a hole tomato
Thanks, Clueless One, for reading me,
but, clue you in ... let's see,
if I'm held upside right ... first time,
my tale be True in rhyme.
Categories:
crawl space, allusion, analogy, appreciation, confusion,
Form: Rhyme
The tiniest Christmas faerie was too small to do much.
She did not fit in most uniforms, and she did not like her hutch.
She climbed out and pranced around and was chased by a mouse.
I am so upset she told her mother; I don’t even like this crazy house.
The mouse slithered into a crawl space, so she was safe now.
Her mother said, “I think this house is okay, although not a wow.”
I don’t fit in, said the tiniest Christmas faerie. Where can I be?
Her mother suggested she climb to the top of the Christmas tree.
Categories:
crawl space, christmas,
Form: Quatrain
Waiting In My Crawl Space
I Hear Sounds
Unknown
I Lay In My Quiet Place
My Bubble
Awaiting My Destination
My Feet Move
The Kick
My Heart Beats
I Am Alive
They Say It's Soon
I'm Ready
Choose Life
Choose Me
Categories:
crawl space, angel, baby, birth, child,
Form: ABC
Black as a panther he was a tween cat
taking literally my front porch welcome mat
my inside dogs not welcoming him in
I fed him outside much to the cats chagrin,
One day we heard some meows in our hallway
opening up the a/c filter cubby hole with no delay
finding the stray cat inside we were amazed
having crept up inside from our crawl space!
8-20-17
Categories:
crawl space, cat, humor,
Form: Rhyme
We weren't rich, my brother and me,
Sometimes we shared a gift
It worked well, far as we could see,
It never caused a rift.
So here we were one Christmas day
The owners of a gun.
Oh, it was fine, that I must say,
And promised endless fun.
There we sat in our own back yard
Loading it up with lead.
Talked how we'd hit the critters hard -
Give 'em hell's what we said.
About that time a skunk showed up,
Just strolled right through the fence.
That is when things just plain blowed up,
They ain't been the same since.
That skunk walked through the house crawl space
And plain sealed his own fate.
I saw it in my brother's face -
Somethin' akin to hate
We crawled slowly with our small size
'Til we saw eyes gleamin'.
My brother plunked him 'tween the eyes -
That's when we heard screamin'.
The stink rose straight to the kitchen
Then spread through other rooms.
We could hear cussin' and bitchin'
And knew our souls were doomed.
Next day the gun went back to Sears.
We tried to kill that stink.
I was grounded a hundred years
The smell's still there, I think.
9/28/2016
For contest Stink
Categories:
crawl space, humor,
Form: Quatrain
Beach Backed Chairs
Dutifully I strode,
struck past police
look for police
past police
look for past
me too-
night bright searchlight
protect[cone]cove from shadow
gain much
as man no walk now
crawl[space]- square shadows all
the German place
spews music from non-window squid fry round
tall hall- guard gun iguana[Guam] and some beach chairs some[moss-Hun]
one left out.
there, coral sand staggered
rack on head
of man[Poulos?]
straining in sand of light and destiNATION
[waning] wave too sad a night.
Categories:
crawl space, allegory
Form: Ode
On this spring afternoon,
I lay my body,
Belly-down on the warm deck,
Head in my arms.
I hear birds making
Ugly noises that can't
Be called chirps.
I know that this is what
The birds do all day,
Everyday.
What are they trying to say?
Their sounds seem pointless, but
That doesn't bother them.
I am not a bird.
I know I have something
To say. I don't want
To do stupid things
Everyday.
I still feel glued
To the porch as I lay here.
My body is tired, but
My mind is steadfast
In its own alertness.
Face down, I can peer
Through the skinny slats in the deck.
There are unsightly things down
There in that crawl space beneath,
Such as a thick layer
Of rotten leaves.
The fresh wind can't reach
The leaves under the deck,
So I'm certain
That they'll sit
In that same spot
Forever.
I'm surprised by a sneeze,
And my thoughts of the leaves
Are swept away from my mind.
My attention is turned
To the tiny puff of dust that I disturbed.
The little specks float about,
But they really don't have
Any choice at all
About where they're going
As I'm softly blowing
Them farther away...
Categories:
crawl space, confusion, life, nature, seasons,
Form: Free verse