Scurried Poems

SAM THE SQUIRREL

SAM THE SQUIRREL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam the Squirrel had a hunger profound
In a park, he was often found,
     With nuts in his cheeks so tight,
     He scurried with all his might,
But alas, his appetite had no bound.

One day, as he climbed up so high,
In a tree with a nut-laden sky,
     Saw bird feeder, what a sight!
     'Twas filled with a feast, a delight,
"This snacking's too good to pass by!"

With a cleverness that took them aback,
He pilfered birds’ seeds in munchy attack,
     Birds squawked and complained quite loud,
     Sam the Squirrel was quite proud,
His cunning had earned him smorgasbord snack.

Forest of Lost Dreams Felled

I wandered through the forest felled.
Its stumps arrayed as scars.
Its bird song larks forever quelled,
to axed-silent memoirs.

Remnants of trees are now a maze,
traced by entrails of mists.
Curling up as veils between leaves,
that once held memories.

The moon's face shunned, shamed.
The wind scurried all around,
the graves of trees blatantly maimed,
along paths no feet had ground.

The forest of trees, lost its leaves.
Lost its old trunks of dreams.
Lost all its shade and shadows cast,
to vast bright white clearings.

I saw the ancient remnant dells,
spared of incumbent trees,
get crowded out by death-neath spells,
of clearings, felled down to knees.

Devilment is Afoot

Leaves of the oak trees congregated in clumps of whispering soldiers
A devilment was afoot; the fey felt this and scurried to the meadow.
Someone was dragging a heavy sack into the darkest shadows.
The night shuddered, recognizing the evilness of the scoundrel.

Perfect place to hide a body, most agreed. Those who were brave to look.
Others hid behind stumps and rocks, hoping the culprit’s thirst was sated.
He has been here before, always leaving flesh that turns to putridness.
Finally whitening and stiffening into a stick-like corpse.

The evil doer did not give the trees or the sack a backward glance.
This was his dumping ground; he felt no reverence for it in the least.
A place to leave the shell of the people he hunted and killed.

Alone And Unseen

He watched them walk by

Many scurried 

People from all walks of life

He looked at them and he saw them

Yet no-one looked at him and no-one saw him

Sitting on a bench

His whole life and home beside him in plastic bags

Alone and unseen

Viewpoint

The signals get scattered in our scurried days
The constant grind trapping us in a daze
So we sit and copy and paste the weeks
Unsure of what it is that we seek

Even if we are unaware of its purpose
Hope is bubbling up under the surface
Luckily it won’t remain hidden forever
We just need to pull on the right lever

Allowing our eyes to pick up the clues
To see what has always been true
That the transformation is already underway
Molding our mess into a masterpiece each and every day

While the grind will never go away
Let's remember that we have a say
In how we frame our life's picture
Embracing the messiness may make things richer

DAYLIGHT SPRING TIME COMES AGAIN

Tonight, the dark sky again
only slept a short while;
no longer eager to cheat
its sun’s awakening joy
over the horizon’s realm;

Bulky white yawning clouds
hovered over the night-shaded
ground below as small nocturnal
creatures seemingly scurried into
and out of the dawning day;

A dawning day during which
we shall seek to see justice
and peace become realities 
in a world wrought with chilled
fear and misery:

May new spreading sunshine
sweeps away waning darkness of winter as
flowering hope again welcomes a new spring
toward resurrected liberation and equity:-

mix'n merrily 'mongst morn'nin mist

.

                     az if'n hern purty
                           belong'd
                         though true
                              hern
                           could did

                     'sidez thuh point
                     'sidez thuh point

                       I resist'd hern
                              not
                      under mine old
                         blue spruce
                     hern resists mine
                              not

                            spin'n
                           off hern
                           scurried

Mister Misanthrope

Mister Misanthrope had given up hope
On the entire human race 
He'd bark and he'd bleat as he walked down the street 
With a grimace on his face

Each day he would howl with a snarl and scowl
Most folk scurried as he neared
He'd chortle of death with foul rancid breath
Which was exactly what they feared

The skies became gray the birds flew away
Even rats would turn their backs
The locals weren't dreaming went running and screaming
To avoid his verbal attacks

One day in the valley down tornado alley
There formed a massive cyclone
With joy they saw Mister riding that twister
Into the great unknown

Before Bed

I put on pajamas. 
Before bed. 
The curse and everything that goes with it. 
Something happened. 
I think I dropped my meds on the floor. 
It was dark, and the lights were spinning, but there were no lights. 
I could sleep on the couch.
They never used to let me. 
I think the couch wants to kill me. 
The couch laughs. 
I live alone. 
Before bed. 
I remind myself. 
Before bed. 
I live alone. 
I get emotional at this time of night. 
Maybe a couple pills scurried away. 
I have to go to bed. 
Some of the lights are on.
I don’t know. 
Some of the lights…
I get up and turn them off again.

Uh Oh - I'm In Trouble Now

As I was WALKING and TALKING in the park all ALONE 
TROUBLE was DOUBLE because I was out LATE 
Best THOUGHT to REPORT to my wife back at HOME 

But then, a BRIGHT LIGHT entered my BRAIN 
How UPSET she would GET if I blew off our DATE 
Best SOUGHT I OUGHT to get out of the RAIN 

I HURRIED and SCURRIED to get back home- on a DIME 
But she LEFT all BEREFT, no more would she WAIT 
Oh WELL, what the HELL- we'll go another TIME

Phobia

you always notice black marks on the floor
checking, in case they scurried with evilness
but don’t look at me, no no no, I double-took 
earlier and to be honest I’d rather carry the 
village church up the stairs wearing flip flops

Magic

Abracadabra, the women chanted with flair,
As they waved their wands, magic filled the air.
A curious cat watched, tail twitching with glee,
As the women's spells brought wonder to see.

Abracadabra, they chanted once more,
And the cat transformed into a dog on the floor.
It wagged its tail and barked with delight,
A furry friend, in a new form, shining bright!

The women asked, "Dear cat, are you happy now?"
But the cat replied, "No," with a flick of its brow.
So again it changed, in a swirl of magic dust,
And the women laughed, at the wonder they could trust.

But then it transformed again, oh my!
As it turned into a rat, and scurried by.


And then, in a flash, a new cat appeared,
And gobbled up the rat, without a speck of fear!
Abracadabra, indeed, their magic was true,
And wonder, awe, and joy, were all conjured anew!

Happily Ever After for a Fallen Star

a fallen star dove in the middle of the Kansas forest of fir
Landed next to a gorgeous dainty violet that quickly adopted her
I will protect you until my dying day, the violet said, all cherry and merry.
Moss scurried over to get some credit too, as did a wild strawberry.

star had never felt this loved, she blossomed almost overnight.
Many came to see this gorgeous deity, she was an awesome sight.
She soon converted into a mushroom village where faeries could dwell.
They loved being in and out of star village, feeling protected and swell.

As Humid Night Turned Into Day

As humid night turned into day,
my eyes I lifted to the gray
and what I saw gave me a turn.
Emboldened blaze of rising sun!

Clouds parted, scurried fast away
and left the dawn to seek its prey.
Tree leaves ashen and green grass scorched,
as if their essence had been torched.

Running, clawing to get inside.
"Have mercy on me, please," I cried.
Seeking shelter from horrid heat,
I quickly made a fast retreat.

As I shut my welcoming door,
the A/C came to raging roar.

After the Flood

After the flood
We tallied the living,
Scurried under the Earth,
And invented new prayers.

There was a hungry need 
For sentiments under the sediment.
We pushed like rainbows against the dirt.
Our new songs would take 
10, 20, 30 years to bloom
Upward and outward.

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