There was a time they grew thick and fair.
I thought them friends. They'd always be there.
What made them loosen up their grip
and say, at once, "Abandon ship"? -
my long lost, faithless, hair.
Weed for a pillow
she lies,
not exactly waking
not exactly sleeping,
washed up on the morning tide
released from all the secrets she was keeping
my tears flow freely
longing for your touch, your voice
missing you deeply
The cat killed the mourning dove
The cat killed the mourning dove
The cat killed the mourning dove
and ate it with her kittens
and ate it with her kittens
Nothing but feathers here and there
once was a winged bird with a pair
Now its gone and disappeared
into the cats tummy, oh dear
Oh dear Oh dear Oh Oh dear
the cat killed the mourning dove
the cat killed the mourning dove
the cat killed the mourning dove
and ate it with her kittens
and ate it with her kittens
The other doves are now afraid
to scared to land since cats foray
They fly around in tree tops stay
mourning the one the cat slayed
The cat killed the mourning dove
The cat killed the mourning dove
The cat killed the mourning dove
and ate it with her kittens
and ate it with her kittens
Meeeeeowl!
Vexations after vexations file on
In this temporal succession here;
And even the best zeal and effort
Meet cold uncertainty and fear.
Petty foes give way to petty foes
In strenuous strivings here below;
And even the soberest of hours
Is fraught with sorrow and woe.
And no new joy that melts here
That’s not with fresh sorrows dealt;
Till the merriest hour in this sojourn
Is as close-punctuated mourning felt.
So now let every minute go
And every new hour emerge;
This soul shall no joys expect
But will silently mime its dirge.
As we live daily, in this world you see,
somethings are not, as they appear to be.
Some people have masks, they wear very well,
the evil in their tongues, in their lives, you can tell.
The words they speak, from the company they keep,
kills the hearts of those, who’s counted as Gods sheep.
With their words as weapons, their tongues made of steel,
roaming about, but to steal, to destroy and kill.
To put out the light, that shines in the world you see,
all the goodness thats inside, of you and me.
To wear us down, in the webs that they weave,
in our heart, the stings it truly leaves.
The stings of death, while we yet live,
till from the heart, love is hard to give.
To intertwine the good, and evil’s, again you see,
how it truly kills the light, in you and me.
The light is the Truth, that guides our path,
it keeps us from being, a creature of wrath.
To be different, a creature of Gods beauty, we are to remain,
as from the ways of our own darkness, we refrain.
For the masks, are many, and true people are few,
and when the time of our darkness is over, the sun drinks up, it’s mourning dew.
silly mourning doves
flit from roof to tree to roof -
hopping and dancing
matching move for move
under the warm, bright spring sun ~
chicks hatch in a month
Till death do us part
Those were the vows we made before God
I still love you even though you are gone
Your resting place was not a grave,
Marked by a grey stone
It was the bottom of a bottle coated with rye foam
You're jovial in the pub
But a husk when you're home
I mourn my husband,
For there's a part of you dead inside
Perhaps it was the one that housed all your love
Is it rum upon your breath
Or a rotting heart?
Who can tell the two apart?
I have fulfilled my vows,
For the bottle has stolen your life
Let us part then,
I'll share a bed with someone who's alive.
MOURNING MIST-:-
sighs
sparks
ascend
gripping
griefs
of EVANESCENCE FADES
mushroom
tainted
death
impermanence
glides
an ÉLAN VITAL
transitory
Buddha’s
ephemerality
achieves
nirvana
It feels as if all
The stars in the sky
Will pull us apart
It's hard to comprehend.
Pinocchio was my best friend.
A little boy so good,
made into firewood.
Such a tragic end.
I was a wounded child
At the age of three.
I wondered where you had gone,
But I didn’t understand anything.
I just woke up—
The yard was filled with people,
Mourning.
But I couldn’t mourn with them,
Because I didn’t understand.
I had so many questions,
And no one was brave enough to answer.
I wondered why the woman who gave me life
Disappeared overnight.
“Oh, my… death.”
That was a new word to me.
I didn’t know what it meant
Until you were gone.
I thought maybe you had gone somewhere,
Some place you would return from.
But as time went on,
I began to lose hope—
Hope of ever seeing you again.
Twenty-one years later,
Still three years old in your eyes,
Still carrying this pain
I will hold for a lifetime.
I love you,
Even though I never got the chance to tell you.
I miss you,
And I will miss you every day of my life.
Oh, my beautiful Rose,
Oh, my mother—
Twenty-one years later,
And I still miss
Hey!
Doves Have No
Reputation For
Being So: HOSTILE!
You Are A Proud
Specimen, Darling...
With Your Soft
Tuxedo Wafting
And Your Sharp
Bold Collar...
There's Plenty Corn
And Bird Seed For All
Your Prolific-ness
Commands, Coo-Bird...
Who Made You Important?
***Me? Was It Me??***
Heehee.
-Gray Squirrel
03-13-2026
Grand Greenery.
Frontenack kneeling.
Keening upon the front line.
You will moan me into my
own kind of oblivion,
A particular B graded death,
cornered in my own upheld dim fantasy,
ever much so fancy free in this prison.
I never understood how fast an afternoon could fade
until the chair you loved sat quiet in the room,
as though the sun itself limited our time.
Your heart was a warm campfire
on the coldest of evenings,
and in those moments,
you told me of days
when the tea kettle’s whistling
wove through a home
that had forgotten your name.
You taught me
that a candle loses nothing
by lighting another.
But you were the candle,
the first flame I could follow.
“You’ve been hearing my story
so patiently for a lifetime,”
you murmured,
though it was the last season of yours.
Still, your tongue became a flow
of sweet memories,
and I caught each one,
collecting the last sweetness of summer.
When you left,
you bled the sky into your veins,
and the sun itself slipped out of orbit.
Now stars hide in the frame of your picture,
as if night itself mourned your absence.
Still, I sing a secret song to you
each night we are apart,
a reminder that the path to heaven
is paved with the hands that stayed
and the kindness given freely
in the final light of your days.
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