Tag Archives: Mystery

And You Thought They Just Slept A Lot And Licked Themselves!

Nobody knows the journey of a cat:

Where they go or what they do,

What secret groves within they sat

Or fearsome vermin that they slew.

No one knows the lives they’ve saved

And the worlds they lost in vain.

Such is the mystery of the cat;

Both majesty and pain.

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In the wilds of Gobbledegook

Are paths too many overlook.

One path most people think is lost

Leads to a world exempt of cost,

Where man and nature have no laws,

Where an effect may have no cause,

Where you may hear a singsong tune

That smells like sunset on the moon.

The goblins that live in this land

Live lives most thoroughly unplanned,

Not to be shared with people doomed

To travel on a path more groomed.

If you are one who seeks to find

The secrets of the unthought mind,

To seek safety via dangers

Know this: Goblins welcome strangers.

All you need to live for free

Is to stare at what you can’t see.

The best place to start to not look?

Try the wilds of Gobbledegook.

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Why Not Celebrate The Already Well-Loved?

April is national poetry month.

February was the month of black history.

How they pick what’s special for each given month

Is, to me, a bit of a mystery.

If I were in charge of month-topic picking

I’d pick something everyone loves

Like the national month of ice-cream and sex…

Either that or elbow-length gloves.

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Pulitzer Bait

What in the sheltered blue of dawn

Was in the sunlight brown as fawn

Turned reddish bronze in ochre night

And yellow in the Summer’s flight.

The spectrum warranted by such

Invoked in hearts a feeling much

As was supposed in rumor and buzz

That no one knew just what it was.

Opaqueness faded into clear

As people gathered far and near

To gaze on the whatever thing

Until the spoken truth would ring.

Alas as stanzas came and went,

The verses writ and meter bent

It soon was clear that even I,

The poet, could not identify

Just what in sheltered blue of dawn

Would visably change as all looked on.

This ending fixed inside my head

I thought of a rhyme and went to bed.

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99% Complete

70,020 updates

In a minute all are done,

So why’s it take an hour

For number 70,021?

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After the Rave

What is orange

And six feet tall

And smells like it is dead?

This isn’t a joke.

I’m asking you

Because one is in my bed.

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