Long Squeaked Poems
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They put their concerns on the
large container in the corner
it was enough for me to tease their imagations
of it's content.
It had a music notes on the side
and made mention of
awareness
it
one side sported a scence of
a red clayed area were
a road
a lnoly road went throuht it
it had a lid were
the handles were
a perfect circle shalaced
with a sign that warned against meddlers
it had a curse
that order the elements of earth
to aile
and cause the meddler great harm
the other side on the floor too
had a picturest scence
where
it smiled upon the ways of
people loving people.
when they opened the box
a deep sounding bassy
song began to play
and inside was
ah.........
tune in next week folk
for the conclusion of
What in The Damn Box!
The contents of the box were thought out before
the show end so they used the "Tune in angle'
to give the people time enough to find something
interesting enough
to be timley to the pictures and content.
They choose a Large shere, it turned people off.
One was heard saying" and when the hinges of the
lid squeaked and the
music began playing I knew this was a joke!"
Hickory Dickory. Can you imagine my shock,
when I saw a mouse in my grandfather clock?
The hands moved until the chimes struck one.
I took aim with my double barreled shot gun.
That mouse squeaked and in haste, off he flew.
I planned a surprise, so when it chimed at two
he'd take a bite of cheese and he'd be trapped.
I saw him nibble, but he escaped; trap snapped!
This went on throughout the day, hour after hour.
I was very angry and searched for more fire power.
In the basement I discovered a stick of dynamite,
and lit the fuse when the clock struck at midnight.
Hickory Dickory. Can you imagine my shock,
when the mouse laughed and began to mock.
"Hickory Dickory. You blew up your own house
and still didn't get rid of me, a little ol' mouse!"
Who was only one inch tall,
raised in a lab since he was, well...small,
doped on phenobarbital,
escaping o'er his prison wall.
Tell me friend, can you recall
King Mouse?
Who lived in a tidy little hole,
knew when the cat was on patrol?
Though cheese and crumbs he stole,
he never lived on the dole.
Let's sing praise and extoll
King Mouse!
Who was diminutive in size,
told the truth and never lied,
had big ears but never spied,
nor squealed, just squeaked and sighed?
All expectations he defied -
King Mouse!
His body small, his soul immense,
big ears heard every offence,
and you, who wanted to dispense,
are now awash with penitence,
as you consider recompense
for King Mouse.
Who knew the secrets that we kept,
never told, just cried and wept,
before he laid on the floor and slept?
At discretion he was adept.
You struck him with the broom while you swept -
King Mouse.
The coo of a mournful mourning dove
reminds us of the guy in the sky above
who we wouldn't touch without a glove.
But now as push comes to shove,
we realize we really love
King Mouse!
The antique mechanism
of the old clock had stopped.
The winding should have been
enough -- and yet, though the
pendulum swung back in forth
in perfect rhythm, no comforting
clicks emanated, as was usual,
the reassuring pulse of a consistent
heartbeat, regulator of a healthy
household.
The big hand had paused, 2 minutes
of. I thought, was this an angel, come
to my aid, or a devil, seething more
terror, personifying the foul deed
about to fully unfold? She would be
here, at nine. No doubt, her obsession
with punctuality. 2 minutes till, the
fiend had bound me to a chair. Assembled
the deadly charge, painstakingly attached to the
clock. Gagged as well I had no way of warning her.
2 minutes till...no, 1:58, 1:57, the clock's
now deadly hand had begun to again
advance. I heard her key in the door.
One minute to detonation. The door squeaked
on neglected hinges. "Cut! All right, 10 minute
break" the directed informed us, after shooting
for 4 hours non-stop.
He was a wild ride
An urban stride
dark alley back room kinda guy
His essence was spark and flint
district red lights stalked him
seethe-y and arcane
black birds followed him
mice squeaked as he passed
dank darkness clung to his foot falls
levitated his feet
he was half angel and half man
(but his better half was deeply depressed to be with him)
They say
one day
he ducked into the black soot shadows beside the bar dumpster
and disappeared
leaving behind
only red ash and a single sterling silver coin
that no one....dares to touch
4.9.2017 (for contest Urban Legand)
Christmas elf was in the holiday spirit
Her mistletoe was freshly plucked
A light snowfall would be lovely she thought
Lady luck smiled and sent gentle flakes her way
it is truly my day, she thought, maybe my week.
Maybe it’s your month, a small chipmunk squeaked.
She was surprised, for until this second….
She did not know that she understood chipmunk.
The chipmunk laughed, flashed his backside and left.
But she did not feel alone in the forest.
The oaks were her friends; she felt loved.
December is my month, she said with a sigh.
Santa would be along in a few days,
Adding more magic to the ambiance of winter.
The glistening snow smiled on her as she put out her tiny foot
I admire your boots, a ground hog said.
She was amazed, for she also did not know that she spoke ground hog.
The six plump chicken were
locked in a cage, while Witch
Hazel stirred up her favorite
sage.
She sharpened her carving
knife, licking her lips,
dreaming of deep- fried
toddler chips.
But Burf sneezed a
colossal explosion, causing a
massive, catastrophic commotion.
His flying mucus hit Hazel smack
in the eye, making the wicked old
hag scream and cry.
While she blinded and cursing
her luck, Leo pulled out a squeaking
toy duck.
He squeaked it so loudly, she tripped
on her broom, crashing face- first into
a pile of perfume.
The smelly mist made the old witch
sneeze, dropping the cage key right
by their knees.
Pip grabbed the keys with his
chubby left toes, while Hazel
was violently blowing her nose.
They unlocked the door and tiptoed
right out, but the floorboards creaked
loudly, sparking a shout.
"I'll eat you for breakfast!"
the furious witch roared,
charging ahead as her anger
soared.
But clever young Chloe had
anticipated the chase, and
squirted a bottle of cheese
in her face.
The bright yellow cheddar
blocked Hazel's sight,
making her stumble left
instead of right.
She slipped on a stray,
greasy sausage link,
tumbling backward right into
the sink.
Her pointy black hat got
stuck in the drain, while the
children laughed hard at her
bubbly pain.
They didn't just run; they
decided to play, and threw
all her magical potions away.
They poured sticky maple
syrup over the floor, making
it a trap from the couch to
the door.
When Hazel escaped the
soapy sink basin, heavy
boots started to slide and
glisten.
She did a wild split and spun
like a top, crashing headfirst
into a bucket and mop.
The six joyful kids did a
victory dance, waving a pair
of the witch's spare pants.
They skipped out the door
with a triumphant cheer,
leaving the sticky witch
crying in fear.
A little gray kitty came to me in a box,
when, I opened the box she said meow;
she was very fluffy and was wearing white socks.
Then, she made a leap and ran- WOW !
But, I was able to catch her somehow !
I bought her toys and one was a squeaky toy mouse,
when, she put her paw on it- it squeaked;
she loved her mouse and chased him all over the house.
When, I threw mousy mouse she- SHRIEKED !
At night around the house she sneaked !
When she wanted my love she crawled up on my knee,
and I would pet her until she purred;
it had not been long but she meant the world to me.
Often, as she lay sleeping snoring was- HEARD !
And some whimpering too- then, her tail stirred !
__________________________
April 9, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/The Little Gray Kitty - Nursery Rhyme
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1346-021-09
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Nursery Rhyme 4
sponsor, Eve Roper, Judged 04/15/2021
First Place
Welcome to the ultimately ethical food restaurant and take away.
All dishes are guaranteed dead, for all plant and animal products and ingredients.
Vegan ethics has been shattered and thrown under a 'food-to-go' bus
By the findings that plants have feelings and get hurt just like us.
A scientist connected plants to machines to test their feelings
When prodded with fork and cut with sharp knife.
To everyone's surprise, impaled carrots, tomatoes and even lettuce
Squeaked and shrieked out with unconscious 'pain', just like us.
Plants have nerves, plants have feelings, plants get hurt,
When harvested and killed, just like cows, chickens, fish and prawns.
They scream out in agony when dragged from earth, sliced, grated, or cut from vine,
Making the ethical choice of what to eat humanely, most sublime.
At the 'Grateful Dead, Deadans Diner' we solve all your problems and concerns.
Nothing here is served fresh; no plant or animal part on your plate, is served alive.
Everything has been killed by someone else; all food on your plate is guaranteed dead,
Cooked, steamed, micro-waved, fried and sautéed; nothing served fresh nor alive and kicking, all dead instead.
One day just like that she began. A little smudge no bigger than God's thumb.
Forgetting old bones and scarred memories she was born one early March.
A lion in a baby carriage roaring and carrying on as if she had just been
flapped to the moon. The old perambulator squeaked as two strong hands
clutched the bar and rocked up and down. Moms cherry red lips whispered
in the winter wind as the snow fell softly all around.
The angels created origami wings and fluttering them around her
like white sail boat masts, entertained her to no end as the sun
shone down with all its strength.
Was the world ready for a super-girl filled with superpowers of delusional dimensions? Where they ready for her free-will descension?
The Earth winked at the stars and the sun cradled the moon. V was propelled to a palladium planet by an introspective God who watched from heaven's big screen as a tiny by-product of a dismantled placenta, a backlash of an Infinite Spirit's creation, a clairvoyant child with a good dose of E.S.P. , was suddenly back on Planet B .
God rolling up the parchment scroll gave out a sigh of relief.
It took as many years for her to mature as a fig on a southern tree.
But grow up she did and oh the things she achieved, who knew ?
to be continued...