MOUSE HOUSE*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In my shoe, I found quite a sight,
a small mouse, with fur soft and light.
He twitched and he squeaked,
as I gasped and I freaked,
Then we both took off running in fright!
*This poem is written in memoriam and dedicated to the field mouse who mistakenly decided our garage would be a cool place to wait out summer's heat.
BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While nibbling on French croissant so fine,
Audrey sipped coffee, feeling divine.
She struck a pose, twitched her chin,
The staff oohed, awed, gave a grin,
At bunny who dined with glamor and shine!
“Oh, daaaarlings,” she said with a flair,
“I’ll nibble on pink pearls, I swear!”
“I’m Holly Golightly,”
She said most contritely.
This dazzling bunny made Tiffany's rare!”
*"Breakfast at Tiffany's" is a 1961 romantic comedy film directed by Blake Edwards, starring Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, a quirky socialite in New York City. The film is based on Truman Capote's novella and explores themes of love and identity. (Source: Wikipedia)
I said I knew him—
like the sea knows the moon,
drawn, pulled, dancing tides to his rhythm.
I traced constellations in the freckles on his back,
wrote sonnets on the way he stirred his coffee,
knew his heartbeat like a song I was born with.
I could name the sound his silence made,
the way his right eye twitched when he lied,
how he always looked left when he didn’t want to cry.
I memorized his favorite shade of regret.
And still loved him.
I said I knew him—
like the roots know rain,
the thunder before the downpour.
I forgave storms that shattered me
because he smiled like sunlight
and I was always cold.
I built an altar from our laughter.
Burnt my pride as sacrifice.
Called him my home.
My poem.
My person.
But—
He was not mine.
He was never real.
Just a ghost I drew on a canvas of longing.
A man made of metaphors and needs.
I was the only one in the room.
Talking. Loving. Remembering.
He was a story I told myself
just to feel
less alone.
As my nose twitched,
before the coming sneeze,
time froze, anticipation heightened,
awaiting its inevitable release.
I surfed the bardo,
my thoughtless attention animated,
wherein fulcrum of tremors,
could not be located.
The tumbler did fall,
when I least expected;
I covered my face,
that others be protected.
As for the act,
expelling saliva and air,
it’s a learnt art,
I perform with flair.
Silently, he stood on the edge of a mirrored pool
For breakfast, he'd have to do a bit of wading
The egret's feathered image I wanted to capture
among wild cattails at this early morning hour.
He seemed to sense that I was watching him.
Stilted legs twitched, poised to take flight
but I was still as overhead, clouds hovered...
whiter yet, than this egret of the morning.
His regal head suddenly turned my way
but I dared not move, not to frighten him away.
His long, graceful neck turned from side to side,
as he tried to figure out if I was something to fear.
He took a stride towards me and then stopped.
A ripple on the pool caused him to change direction.
Breakfast was being served and so, he ate his fill.
I quickly sketched what I knew I'd have to paint.
Lily was a gorgeous maiden with an unusual hair color.
Men gave her more attention than she deserved.
Plenty of plain women were ready to turn her in.
Calling her witch, declaring she had cast a spell on them.
Some of the more jealous ones twitched violently.
Calling upon the good Christian soldiers to banish her.
She was about to get burned at the stake.
Something the ugly girls were glad to see.
But along came the witch hunters; Hansel and Gretel.
They had weapons and were not afraid to use them.
They rescued Lily, and warned the good people to leave her alone.
It was a sad day for the plain, ugly, sour-faced old maids.
Hansel and Gretel knew the power of good and bad witches.
Their mother had been a good witch; so they had an inside track.
They had experienced the wrath of a bad witch while young.
It was imperative they keep saving good witches, so they did.
I was in Eden, when the stars saw and moulded man
I beheld the achievement of my toils and plan
I surveyed the ape body beneath my tail of green
I contemplated the workings of my servants
I breathed my warm breath of wisdom into his nostrils
I saw the flesh breathe in and out, tasting the air
His brown eyes opened, and looked in the four directions
Her ears twitched, to listen to the stars whispering
His wide nose sniffed, smelling the corpses of my past works
Her hands felt the grass dancing beneath her rough skin
His mind awoke, the beauty of my dream departed
Her soul moved, and I was filled with breathless horror
Your almond skin concealed the web of veins and muscles
Your hair was black that pointed in all directions
Your teeth were thirty two pearls of white bathed in cows milk
Your two eyes sparkled with inquiry and longing
Your soul in your eyes was as white as the night sky’s pearl
Your mouth spoke about the pink pearl beneath the shell
“Let my pink pearl drift in the gnosis river
Let my pink pearl drift high above Eden’s stars”
You left, but we were meant to be,
We were a perfect couple, everyone could see,
Infecting my mind, thoughts of you, tear open my heart,
I trusted you, believed you, and you ripped me apart.
I got angry, screamed, punched a wall,
Bang Bang Bang!
Left behind with nothing but bloody knuckles, and a forced on smile.
I need you, and you need me.
Your friends tell me to go, but I don't want to!
I want, no, need to see you!
They treated me like trash, told me you didn't wanna see me,
But that's a lie, right? We have a bond.
I saw you again, you told me to go,
I twitched, and cried, and told you to die!
I didn't mean it, I promise!
I was just on Adrenaline high.
Now I've fixed myself, but you still don't want me,
So I sit alone at home, hoping that somebody,
Will think I'm good enough once again,
And not treat me like an explosive friend!
Little
Miss Witch nose twitched.
Bewitched a mundane stitch;
Halloween clown from head to toe
trick, treat.
She walked
Down the dark street
With sweet sounds of laughter.
Skittles, candy corn, M&Ms
Bag full
One, two,
Three, sudden; Poof!
Black spike hat, gown, and boots
Holding a kitten as black cat
Looked out.
Despair weaving up my spine,
engorging within body, mine.
And though I twitched and groaned today,
that feeling did not go away.
"Why so grim?", Old Tom Cat asked,
but Little Kitten turned away –
stared at the sky with wistful eyes,
withdrawn from this sweet, golden day.
"Why so gloomy?", Old Tom prodded,
flicking Kitten with his tail.
"No room for melancholy thoughts
when sun is heavy on the vale."
Little Kitten turned his head,
shaking off his pensive shroud.
"I want to be a bird", he sighed,
"and sleep upon a silver cloud."
Old Tom's whiskers twitched a bit –
he had these feelings sometimes too,
but cats were cats and birds were birds,
grass was green and sky was blue.
"See here, Small Kit, let's run about,
scampering in meadow weeds,
caper through the dandelions,
loosening their soft, grey seeds.
Depression will soon float away
with all the downy fluff.
We'll make a million tiny clouds
and that will be enough."
The dirty dishes at the sink
are piled up high, near at the brink.
A reckoning is looming large:
a Staten Island garbage barge of smells, I think.
I’ve carried out the garbage pail;
I’ve twitched my nose to no avail,
but still that reek, that awful smell.
I tried a Jeannie blink as well, but it too failed.
Staring at what’s in front of me,
I’m faced with grim reality:
it’s time to replace every dish.
Will Amazon fulfill my wish in time for tea?
————-
A fun one called a Florette, done as quatrains (there's a quintain option as well):
Syllabic: 8/8/8/12
Rhyme: aaba, with line 4 matching the ‘b’ rhyme at syllable 8
Bold, bright as broach,
plucked from
a distant gaze to settle
the folds of a morning,
unmoved by the dappled light
twitched across its outstretched wings,
a sleeping butterfly
rolled up in a cardboard tube
and sent flying
halfway across a world
to here, still deep
in its dream.
Too late the moon exposed herself
emerging naked from chiffon clouds.
The Moon; she the mistress
of insanity and love
had arrived
yet her curtain call came too late.
There were bodies to count,
some still twitched their pale limbs.
Lovers ran blindly through empty streets,
the loved and the lonely rolled in their beds
in a fever of want.
Juliet searched the night sky for him
alas a wane moonlight caught her eyes,
had sent them spinning into webs of doubt
until she felt betrayed.
The mistress appeared too late;
for even in her Luna absence
drapes had been pulled over
the victims
of love and lunacy.
The night had bit deep,
both lovers and all other trusting souls
were left deserted, hungering
and lightless.
The pyramid's gallant angel retains the apex.
Khufu's hand is spread, palms facing down
Taking shape over some infant's head.
As if completing an unseen stone, a lateral line.
The child lifted his arm in a greeting swing.
The climb is tough, Parents of Kindness.
Such stones are rough, as are intriguing hearts.
It twitched such as echo, a wild aching feeling.
Each angel's voice lauds The glory, Highness.
Serenity in the gloomy, harsh magical lane.
Written: January 11, 2022
Inspired by a Leonardo Da Vinci Art Tableau
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