The Mockingbird sings out his misleading best,
in hopes to attract a dupe with a nest,
where the squatter believes mate’s eggs should belong;
so mimics and jabbers uncountable songs.
Catbirds and Thrashers, related critters,
both grey North Americans sport throats of a twitter.
These gifted Warblers mock tricky bird tunes,
deceiving, deluding as feathered dragoons.
In fairness to balance the Tweeters’ intent,
creating, demanding a need to invent
a song to attract a new or lost mate:
so, a beacon to follow and commitment to state.
EXAMPLE MOCK SONGS
whistling, hey-hey yip pittie-yap
frog gurgle, snarf-chickie claw-saw
peep peeping piccolo-staccato bleat
sniftering chit-chat, yodel-do do
snerling, rat trap, blah tat-tat-tat
crunchy nasal chirp, coo-coo-coo
Happy Valentine's Day
Have it your way
Like a horse eats his hay
Snarf down these chocolates, OK?...
Yes, Ma'am. Happy Valentine's Day
And I don't give a hoot what you say
That bouquet of 'fresh roses' on display
Is not worth two weeks of my pay....
Oh, alright. You win. I tossed all my principles away
And bought you those smelly roses anyway
So, chocolate and roses: Hey, let's go all the way
I'll meet you in bed ~ Masks off, Whuddyasay?
A famished bird snarfed down a stinging bee
Began to feel faint, and weak in the knees
Set himself down to listen
Is there something here I'm missin'
What's this crazy sound buzzing inside me
There was a cuckoo-bird lived by a lake
Thought that a great fisherman he would make
But when he set up his lines
To devour the bait he pined
He'd snarf down all the worms, for heaven's sake
I never knew that most monkeys will swoon
To eat bananas in a real saloon --
They'll snarf down bunches
After monster lunches --
Then vomit up the peels in the spittoon
I think I know what life's about
It's ten a.m. when I set out
To eat, and then I snarf my food
You know that I am looking good
I go to class, get on my phone
I tell the teach: "Leave me alone!"
She tells me that I'm gonna flunk
I tell her: "What a bunch of bunk!"
She sends me to the dean, for what?
I open his door, begin to strut
He says, "The game is up; get out of here."
I say, "Thanks much, n'go have a beer...
Now it's six p.m., time for dinner
Fries and a coke will sate this sinner
Then I'm off, to hit the town
Rock-and-roll, and come on down
I get it on with a foxy chick
We smoke and drink till we get sick
I hit the sack by midnight's end
Then I'm up at ten to do it again
******
I trust you liked my little story
I hope it didn't anger or bore ye
That it's the truth is plain to see
The bad part is ~ The joke's on me
Her given name was Anna Abigail Logan,
But to family she was Foo Foo,
Trot-a-dog, Scruff McMuffin, Nose Brain,
Poo Dog, Annie Bananie, Snarf Dog,
Anners, Baby Girl, and Lovie.
A tiny fluff ball with black button eyes,
She had no brakes at first.
I sat on the carpet by the fireplace to play.
She would run full speed at me,
Crash head first into my outstretched leg,
Fall over, jump up in flash motion,
Then tare off in circles of fun.
She was an ambassador of love,
A warm little lap-sized giving machine.
She had no fear of strangers.
Hugs were pets and she collected them
From everyone, everywhere,
Giving back sloppy wet kisses
Whenever she could get a good lick in.
A silver miniature Schnauzer of merit,
Supreme friend and companion extraordinaire.
With a nose that came out to greet you,
Big bushy eyebrows and a deluxe beard
Dangled in her water dish,
Dripping after a good drink.
She walked on log legs, cylinders of long fur.
Perfectly groomed, sniffing air and thick woods
Or snoozing with Mom in her favorite chair.
Good-bye dear Annie Dog. We will see
You on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.
To keep my movements moving,
I begin each day,
with a doctored bowl of oatmeal,
bland stuff, some'd say.
But not for me I spice it up,
creative — like them poets.
(Really! Like the finicky ones,
the ones with all the know-its).
Agave nectar for sweet,
peanut butter too,
a must for me it is,
but maybe not for you.
Sometimes a touch of coconut,
in the oil form,
it adds a bit of tropical,
though it's not the norm.
Sprinkled with a dab of seeds,
(sunflower, not in shell),
frequently my morning meal,
is just this side of swell.
I forgot to mention,
a microwave is used,
(to splatter oatmeal everywhere,
as electrons get diffused)
to heat the stuff I eat each morn,
(like sun on morning dew).
Since I never measure anything,
it sometimes turns to glue,
but I just pile on the almond milk,
until it lightly sogs,
and snarf it up like royal fare,
unfit, some'd say, for hogs.
Pink and Purple Snarf Buckets
running through the hills
filled with lots of glories
and trying not to spill
running here and running there
it's really quite a shame
that pink and purple snarf buckets
shall never know their names.
Snarf bucket
snarf bucket
thats a game
snarf bucket
snarf bucket
what a shame
snarf bucket
snarf bucket
do I know
tell me your name
or let me go
One of my past lives appeared without warning
I was so handsome she without reservation
DAYLIGHT!
(or was it a dream?)
A prince of Egypt
Just as the ouija board said
In the museum come face to face with myself
palest white
but nicely wrapped
Met myself one day while walking through the woods
I stopped looked at me my wild eyes rolling around
and then
I wet on a tree
Oh to be reborn and another crack at things
Prahbupada says "You would be a tiger
the way you snarf those burgers"
Oh it's such nonsense!
She claims to leave her body
float around upstairs
where she meets old Uncle Ned
long dead old Ned
patting her soft silken head