If you find something lost
You have a chance to leave it lost
At less than little cost.
Some things burn in the sunlight
(And some of them should, right?)
But there’s something in the unknown
That we should never own.
Leave lovely Mystery on her throne.
This idea may be most sound –
Let yourself be lost with it.
You always need to be found?
Take the tumbumbleweed ticket.
(Read some of Itsy’s and Bitsy’s previous (mis)adventures.)
The world gets bored busy
By its own dizzy tizzies
And might take it out on an Itsy or Bitsy
Who met once again in the muck mired middle
Of a messy and yet somehow much ‘mired riddle
Where good and bad were naught but a quibble
Branching off the truthy tree
Where noble -tsys bloomed wild and free
Into blunt buzz of a soothe-see bee
Proclaiming the future had arrived
And sucking them into its inky hive
Where they dripped down pens to bring alive
This sorry story of promising luck
But if they stayed then they’d be stuck
So th y got up and off th y snuck
Into another tricky tale
Where they might fail or fail to fail
And all the importance that entails,
Sneaking in and out and ’round
Some polluted plot they found
‘Bout a large three headed hound
That stood guard at secret gates
But feared the fickle fingered Fates
Who poked at any stable states
And even with his six eyeballs
That haunted hound could not see all
So our -tsys took him awol,
Through the gates, into a space
The Fates were blind and could not chase,
A knowing and yet unknown place
Where only you could trap yourself,
A bedeviling sort of awful health,
That if cured would bring a wealth
Of other gates and other ways
Into and through the mother maze
So as they went they raised with praise
The heads and hearts of all they passed
Until their running reached the last
Large wyrm hole where sat aghast
A lion with its own three heads
Who stood up straight and looked ahead
At what could be and so she fled
Into hope with hound at heels,
Leaving ‘tsys to make a deal
‘Tween things they think and fings they feel
So Itsy and our Bitsy too
Declared themselves themselves anew,
Diving in the reddish blue
Of that hungry hole and –
That we were strangers once
Is deeply strange to think.
Weren’t you always there?
I say I saw you in the blink.
You somehow never doubted
The impossible parts of me,
Which makes me strangely wonder
How I could ever be
When those bits were not believed.
Maybe you made me real.
Might be a steep climb to fulfill
But I’d bury my heart in that hill.
One way or another
Now that I’m here
I believe in you
Even though I fear
You may be a ghost
Or even worse a mirror.
A reflection is a lesson
On real and really not.
You must be the misdirection
To see what Truth you’ve got.
I followed a cat to see what he did,
Followed and stalked and stealthily hid.
After some mischief and three weeks of sleep
He yawned at the world and sank to his keep.
I watched him pull out a thicker dog suit
Along with two pairs of bigger paw boots.
He put it all on in a great furry fog
And with a wag of his tail that cat was a dog!
That new dog got up and swaggered on out,
Leaving me in a pile of “What’s this all about?”
When I noticed some scales, then feathers, a fin,
That beast had other beast suits by the bin!
But when I saw a human suit I froze,
‘Cause an old possibility was no longer closed.
I tugged at myself to see if I gave,
This was the time to dig deep and be brave.
I looked in the mirror and to my small surprise
Found myself staring straight into wolf eyes.
I had to get off one howl at the moon
And then dug deeper – Emu! Tortoise! Raccoon!
I never knew how much of me was down here!
Next was a snake! Eagle! Mouse deer!
I found bugs below slugs under bugs!
I was made up of many animal hugs!
I had to find out – how deep did I go?
I keep on digging so someday I’ll know.
Illustration by Angel.
Drawn by Anodracs.
It’s a really silly world
That will tell you who to be.
A hilly kind of silly
That’s lost all its pretty lilies
And so has turned real chilly.
A confused, confounded, quilly world
That fills me with the willies.
But, above all, silly.
You’re already you.
I’m already me.
Who else would we be?
When Different came a-knocking
And said, “It’s time to change,”
We found it all sho- shocking
And shrieked, “You’ve gone deranged!”
True enough, but so had we,
So against leaving our range.
The known is past, different’s the key,
The future’s in the strange.