A mouse will put the finishing stroke to a castle wall.
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Kissing The Blarney Stone (Fun Poem 17)
Crane your neck back,
look up the castle wall,
which almost touches the sky
to see the platform there.
Your heart skips a beat,
when you see the narrow stairs.
Fingers crossed you begin your accent
up the narrow curving stairwell,
to the top of the castle wall.
The breeze ruffles your hair,
as you walk slowly around the fortifications there.
The worst is yet to come,
coat off, lay on your back,
to do the daftest thing of all.
You lean back through the narrow gap,
bend your head backwards,
and kiss a stone in the castle wall.
poem by David Harris
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Fast rode the knight
Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady!"
Fast rode the knight,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.
poem by Stephen Crane
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From A Castle Wall
Standing on the top of the castle wall,
surveying all that I could see
I wondered how the previous owners felt
on down through the centuries
when thy looked out from the battlements
into the horizon miles away
knowing all the land they saw
was theirs until their dying day.
19 September 2008
Authors Note:
This poem was written at the top of Carisbrooke Castle wall on the Isle of Wight.
poem by David Harris
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Missing
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for half a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried....
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he wasn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street;
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
He's just got out...
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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a mouse teaches Diogenes
You see Diogenes living in the slums. He lives in a barrel. This is the man even Alexander the Great admires. So it makes you wonder about Diogenes.
So you pretend to be there quite by accident and you ask: “Diogenes…Who was your teacher? ”
“A mouse was my teacher, ” says Diogenes.
You are quite confused. And you say: 'A mouse is your teacher? And how is that, Diogenes? '
“Well, most exquisite Sir, ” says Diogenes to you. “Most cultured Sir, ” he says. “I had no home and I was in the streets. I almost killed myself. Then I saw mouse. Mouse ran around and looked for food and it found some and I observed mouse for over two days. And I realized how resourceful mouse was. And then I said to myself: ‘Learn of the mouse, Diogenes- and all will be well.’ And so I learned of mouse. And every time I have a problem, I simply ask myself: ‘How will mouse solve this? ’ And so mouse became my teacher. And now, most Exquisite Sir, I have a problem. You. I want to get rid of you and I ask myself: ‘How would mouse solve this problem? ’ He would bite…”
You listen to this and you are afraid – and you run. And Diogenes has done well; he has learned well from his teacher. And you can hear him shouting to you: “By the way, who was your teacher? ”
poem by Raj Arumugam
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A Mouse Is Killed Today
a mouse is killed today
by an artist
who got mad because
the mouse ate his painting
of the nude woman
that evening while he got so furious
the mouse was at his hole
on the floor eating his usual cheese
the artist mumbled and murmured
and grumbled
and the mouse heard it
and called it
slapstick poetry
a doggerel,
the artist was not able to hold his temper
anymore
got an armalite and shot the hole with the mouse in it
in the name of art
the artist invokes his right to kill the mouse
he says it was
' clearly an artistic expression
and protected by the First Amendment.'
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Finishing second in the Olympics gets you silver. Finishing second in politics gets you oblivion.
quote by Richard Nixon
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Poem Seeking Permission...
May I seek
Your permission
To build my castle
Of fantasies
That houses you?
The castle may
Crumble down
Let it be...
From the debris
Will I quickly build another
Binding every wall
With my precious tears
Copiously shed
In the silence of
Several vacant nights
I'll roam from room to room
From corridor to corridor
Its every length and breadth
Day and night
The walls resonating
With your name
My heart repeats
The castle recharges me
It's my life-line, you see...
Do permit me...
11Sep2011
07.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Magic Mirror
mirror mirror on the wall
tell me something i don't know
mirror mirror on the wall
give me some response at all
mirror mirror on the wall
give me something i can't hide
mirror mirror on the wall
show me something fair inside
poem by Anon E Mouse
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My Red House
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I once played in that red house
Shy was I, like a little mouse
Tippy toed I went looking around
Giggling, without making any sound
Happy was I to run around and play
My very own home to live and stay
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Darkness came swiftly one night
A sense of something was not quite right
The shadows came across the wall
Covering my eyes, ready for my fall
The sounds of whips and chains dragged
against the floor
The sheer terror numbed me from looking
passed that door
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The darkness slowly turned to grey
The black clouds lifting away
No longer trapped, I did not need to stay
Free was I to let go and make my own way
So ever slowly, opening that door
I could see the light and so much more
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
Changing and always moving
Never stopping and always wanting
Step by step, I shed all those tears
One at a time, I climbed up those stairs
Moving closer to where I want to be
No longer a child but an adult me
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
I came home today
The Red House, same as it was yesterday
Slowly, walking up that hill
Everything seems to be in a stand still
I could only stay for a while
Before the darkness comes within a mile
My Red House
Be quiet as a mouse
The breath of life you gave to me
But took away the child within me
No longer a pawn to your destruction
I have found my peace and resolution
Turning away towards the path of light
I see a very beautiful sight
My Red House
There is no longer a mouse
poem by Miu Miu Ayushi
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Persistence
Persistence
is staying in the game
until the end.
When you run a race,
persistence is not the winning,
but the finishing.
Whether you are, first or last
it doesn’t really matter,
so long as you get to
the finishing post.
20 May 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Prisoner
Im thanking you for opening my eyes so clear
And sweeping old illusions from my soul
But most of all for turning something simple and sincere
Into somethin jaded and as jive as rock n roll.
Chorus:
Aint you always looked at lovin like a four letter word
That I made up to make you ill at ease
I fought to free you from your castle of despair
til I saw the prison wall was me
See the soul who calls itself a prisoner
cause its still too frightened to be free
I feel so much older now, and wiser
Aint it sad how lonesome that can be.
Chorus:
Aint you always looked at lovin like a four letter word
That I made up to make you ill at ease
I fought to free you from your castle of despair
til I saw the prison wall was me
Chorus:
Aint you always looked at lovin like a four letter word
That I made up to make you ill at ease
I fought to free you from your castle of despair
til I saw the prison wall was me
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Are You Gloating?
Why are you gloating?
You look as if you were a mouse,
Who was just awarded...
A lifetime supply of cheese.
'That's almost funny.
No.
But...
Say I 'was' that mouse.'
Okay...
Mouse.
'And that mouse was suspected of stealing cheese.
And those who made the cheese...
Did all they could to find the mouse guilty of the crime.'
Go ahead,
I'm listening.
'And...
The mouse,
Kept telling the makers of cheese...
They actually befriended rats!
And those rats were the culprits of the theft all along.'
I don't get it.
What has that got to do with you?
'You see...
The folks had their eyes focused on the mouse closely.
Under microscope.
Not realizing they socialized and entertained disguised rats.
Masquerading as wholesome folks with undeniable integrity.'
What became the outcome?
'Well...
Not only was the mouse awarded that lifetime of cheese you mentioned.
But efforts long dismissed achieved notoriety for that same mouse.'
Soooo,
'Why' are 'you' gloating?
'Forget it.
Just forget it.'
Hey,
Wait a minute.
Don't get angry with me.
You were the one to bring up the mice and rats in disguise,
Working inside a cheese factory.
Yeah...
That's right.
Walk away.
You need to lay that head down and get some rest.
No wonder I see him smiling all the time.
The dude is nuts!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cat and Mouse
I am the mouse running from the cat,
or am I the cat chasing the mouse?
According to Chinese astrology I'm a Rat,
so who is the boss of the house?
Cat and mouse, chasing in my head.
Who I am? I don't know. It's better to forget...
poem by Jacqui Broad
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The City Mouse And The Garden Mouse
The city mouse lives in a house; -
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
And sees the pretty plants in flower.
The city mouse eats bread and cheese; -
The garden mouse eats what he can;
We will not grudge him seeds and stalks,
Poor little timid furry man.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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To Be Noticed As A Serious Undertaking
The playing of cat and mouse,
May come to validate the cat and the mouse...
Choosing to play.
However...
Someone deciding,
They wish to see a cat and mouse game played...
Without the interest of the cat or the mouse,
Might discover themselves to be disappointed.
And the focus of an attention not wanted.
Some folks can amuse themselves,
By assuming their misdeeds...
Increase with their childish effectiveness applied.
Like deciding which toy soldier,
Prefers to be in the trenches or on the battle line.
And these minds try to enforce an authority of some kind,
To be noticed as a serious undertaking.
And not regarded as a joke.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Castle in the Sand
I built castle in the sand
Reaching to the far off land
I gathered the sand to mount it high
Thinking to built a castle in the sky
But fate took a different path
The castle I had built was down at last
The breeze blew
The castle flew...
I now sit here all alone
Gathering the sand to rebuild a home
But what a dream I did see
To always have him near by me
poem by Meena Mustafa
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The mouse in the wall may look at a cat, but he is wise not to squeak about it.
Alankar (Decor) -32
Chase (Rondeau Redoubled)
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Shall see to it once and all for today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here I keep the trap to trap and dismay
Sugared magic sure you're fooled o'poor mouse
Cunning you think? brainy you think? ..today
I won't let you go out o' little mouse
Fought, caught, taught to rot petty petty mouse
Bitter squeaks, what a pest, what a hell, hey
Snouty mouse, messy beast, out from this house
Shall see to it once and all for today
May foe feline be fed on you today
Be hooked and thrown-that I shall venge you mouse
Ha, ha, ha then shall all end just today
You run run-I run run-round round the house
No reason, no season, no taste o' mouse
krrkk, krrkk-nibbling all things, all time whole day
Like thief hide and steal you do in my house
But I win, you're caught and lost just today
Here is the trap for your best goal today
Slip in soundless for the 'masaal' o'mouse
I'm sure you will tempted fall but at bay
Thrown awed by foe feline outside the house
I won't let you
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Shall I Tell You A Story?
Shall I tell you a story about a mouse
That lived in the wall of a very old house?
He dined on scraps that fell from the table
And dodged the cat whenever he was able.
Shall I tell you a story about a cat
Who sat by the fire, on a lovely warm mat?
He'd prowl the house with a haughty strut,
But would stay out of range of the yapping mutt!
Shall I tell you a story about a pup,
Who next to his master's feet would curl up?
A more faithful friend you never will see.
His name 'True Blue' fits him to a tee!
Shall I tell you a story about a man
Who muddles along the best that he can,
With his dog, and his cat, and even the mouse?
Contented, they stay in that ramshackle house.
poem by Dawn Ferrett
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