earl catton

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earl catton is a praying mantis who lives inside a jar on a shelf in my mind...http://earlcatton.blogspot.com

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    The Tale Of Two Towns

    In the town of Frownupon, Across the Sea of Sorrow, Live the men and women Who always fret tomorrow. “It will rain, and then will flood!” You’ll hear them in the streets, Counting our their weariness In lonely, sheepish bleats. The sun will shine but they will say, “Tomorrow it will storm, We better take some aspirin,” As they walk around forlorn. The oddest thing about this place, It never has had rain, And never does the sun not shine And yet they all complain. In the town of Laughalot, Across the Sea of Joy, Live the men and women, The kindest to employ. They have the hearts of children, In their venturing about, But never is there sunshine And never do they pout. It’s rained for years and always floods, Yet in this upturned town, You’ll find they fish and puddle jump While singing sprightly sounds. For those who live in Laughalot Have figured something out, Circumstance does not require That one must always frout.

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    The Globe

    The other day I spun a globe And wondered of those down below And how they drive their cars around When they’re always upside down

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    Swings

    Recess at the grammer school swinging on the swings when I felt a kind of tingle and out my back grew wings! So I let go of the chains and let my bottom rise then the next thing I knew I was flying in the sky The playground aids grew frantic at this unusual display As someone yelled, “Get back here, you may not fly away.” So I tried to do a loop-do-loop before all my friends and noticed a photographer with telephoto lens. I saw the headlines in my mind as I jackknifed in the air: Child With Wings it would say, I’d be a millionaire. I’d buy every LEGO set, three or four go-carts a hundred brand new pogo sticks, a horse I’d name Dart. I’d never have to take the bus or eat brocolli again for I had wings and I could fly away on a whim. Then I heard the school bell ring— my eyes came from their daze, I was but a child again bound to wingless ways.

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    Horrible, Deplorable Charlie The Flea

    Charlie was a flea of a very low degree who hopped upon the rump of a rat. He rode across the sea to the shores of Italy – to see what he could see off the ship. The gutters were a-flutter, every rat and her brother, had come for the journey of their life. It was 1347, and the fleas grew as leaven – riding rodent carriages to town. How small a little flea, who could have seen all the trouble such as Charlie could infest. Yet at times it’s the small, who conquer all by sending their plagues to our shore. Like that boy in gym who has a pointed chin and laughing made a jest about your ears. Or the girl on your block who once threw a rock and broke your friendship like glass. Such are the ways of our times and days the nuisance of bullies and pests. But do not fear for the days though appear to be bottomless with pain— All the bullies and fleas and plagues you see will one day simple digress. For Charlie the flea got hungry you see and never could manage to fill – Like a bully, this pest, finally did rest and couldn’t even hurt a flea. So the moral my friends, here’s how it ends Whatever plague you suffer and bear— Remember the fleas are but fleas if you please and your charlies a pest at the best.

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    Never Sometimes

    Have you ever never sometimes been flying in a dream across a lake of jelly when you hear a distant scream? Could it be a monster – or the echo of your voice? And being never sometimes you have to make a choice! Do you fly toward the trouble, be it theirs or be it yours, encountering the terrible never sometimes of a horror? That’s the way of dreaming as I have realized – when waking in a pool of drool while adjusting my eyes— Of all the never sometimes that I have lived to see it’s The Never Sometimes monster who always frightens me. So now when I go dreaming adventuring for miles – I carry both my waking eyes in my travel vials. So if The Never Sometimes should ever rise and roar and try to eat me for a treat I’ll drop my vials on the floor. And my eyeballs will be rolling around his feet and there will see that I am but dreaming The Never Sometimes eating me.

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    The Crocodile

    by Lewis Carroll How doth the little crocodile Improve his shining tail, And pour the waters of the Nile On every golden scale! How cheerfully he seems to grin! How neatly spread his claws, And welcomes little fishes in With gently smiling jaws!

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    A Valentine

    The opposite of love is evol.

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    Two Haiku

    by Yosa Buson A tethered horse, snow in both stirrups. ~~~ That snail - one long horn, one short, what's on his mind?

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