I rode a rabbit down its hole,
It meowed and barked and growled,
I hugged it hard and howled.

Now you may ask:
Kyle, why ride a rabbit down its hole?
It’s dark and dirty, what’s the goal?

And I might say:
To not is dull.
Be it rabbit, bear or boar,
Fox or crab, snake or mole,
They know where to find a door
Straight into adventure’s soul.

Why ride a rabbit down its hole?
You could find a million mile worm,
The treasure of a troll
(That is, old socks it likely stole),
An undiscovered germ,
Or, not North, not South,
But the rumored Center Pole!

So:
Why ride a rabbit down its hole?

Because you never really know.

Illustration by MB.

I’d rather know what I don’t.
I know did,
What’s all this won’t?

The alphabet I know I know
But what’s out there past Z?
The shapeless, shameless,
Nameless, blameless,
I don’t have eyes to see.

But then I’d know
And then I’d go
And write this same old poem.

So I suppose
I’ll just not know –

I’ll be glad to know that though.

A plumber!

While I’m a fanatic fan of fruits,
None compare to plum.
Royal purple on the outside,
And inside – golden purple yum.

I’ll help plum trees become the best
Fruiters they can be.
Though I think we all can see,
Doing what they do,
They’ll bring out the best in me.

Yes, this coming summer
I’mma be the next up-and-comer!

What’s that?

As a job it’s rather wetter?
And has to do with toilets?

Even better!

I’m gonna be a plumber!

Drawn by RW.

Illustration by Ugmotaur whose work can be found here.

Between you and I,
Let me tell you a truth:

You can learn a lot from a lie.

A fair maiden
Left her heaven,
Where every hopeful
Dream was made in.

Her toes touched Sea,
Waves walked her in,
Begging that she
Never leave them.
Tentacles rose up
And grabbed,
But Earth sank Sea
As up it stabbed
Into new land
And clasped her hand
With icy diamond
And one demand:
“EVERY STONE THAT IS IS YOURS
BUT HERE FOREVER STAND.”
Night awoke in lightning
As stars streaked toward the ground,
Blinding even ancient trees
With a constellation crown.

And she said, “Stop.”

They had to heed the call.

“All you powers push and pull,
I am not here to join you all,”
And then sunk into darkest halls,
Walking through the world’s last wall,
Finding nightmares
In mid-fall,
Reaching for the nightmared,
There to help and hold.

“It’s okay.
You are safe.
I’ll be with you
Till you wake.
Then you’ll go,
But have faith,
For I am Love
In different shape.”

The secret to taller?
Step up to the altar.
I have the great honor
To serve as your scholar.

Stretching?  Why bother?
They say no more water,
Drink milk by the saucer,
Down mountains of cobbler,
You must believe harder!
Pray!  Yes!  And holler!

They’re naught but big talkers,
They’ve nothing to offer,
Those gibbering toddlers.
They’re goners as solvers.

My cure’s not a dollar.

The best way to be taller
Is find someone smaller.

Why, you’re just a bit shorter.
Let me make you an offer.

“It doesn’t matter!
Nobody cares!”
I shouted aloud to none but the air.
And it echoed back the very same swear,
Adding its own snarkified flair:
“Nobody matters!
It doesn’t care!”
Continuing on with more info to share:

“It’s easy to blare
Or say a quick prayer,

But if you want your
Circle squared,

To get your here
To a better there,

Don’t ask to be,
Just be the mayor.

You need someone
To get somewhere.
And if it’s two?
Be a pair!
And if it’s three?
Be your spare!

Doing is rare,
Don’t be scared.
You’ve built yourself
A very nice snare.

Do or don’t care.
Fair or unfair.
Shout or just stare.

That’s what doesn’t matter.

Find your derring-do
For you must do and dare.”

I can’t leave this puddle.
Ever since it rained
No matter how I struggle
I’ve been stuck in muck befuddled.

This puddle prison puzzle
Has got me awful ruffled.
The toughest type of trouble
Is muzzlingly subtle.

Interesting though…
Not to get too sappy,
This cold and wet seems… happy.

I think…
I think…
I’m mud!
I am this muddy muddle!
I don’t want to leave this puddle.

Warbling Chuchu
Enormous and has no voice.  Once it becomes fully mature it hunts down and eats a train engine.  Is then able to bellow as it pleases.

Illustration by Marek Jansen whose books and other work can be found here.

Sand Crasher
Burrows into sand in order to trip people.  Then goes through their pockets looking for coins and other shiny things to decorate their nests.  Vain and dangerous.  Do not attempt to defend shiny things.

Illustration by Marek Jansen whose books and other work can be found here.

Incomplete Oriole
Just claws and a beak.  Modern science has been unable to explain its existence.

Blur Jay
Prefers to perch on one’s nose.  Can cause cross-eye syndrome.  Has never been seen clearly.

Scrumptious Finch
Has a very buttery flavor.  Goes great on toast.

Carpecker
Pecks holes in cars.  Seems to do so out of curiosity.  Enjoys viewing the activities of the people inside.

Rogbogobgor
Has a large, black beak that burns to the touch.  Is more scaly than feathered.  Eats nine lions a day.  Is rumored to spout fire and witticisms.  Might be a dragon.

Giver Goshawk
Enjoys leaving gifts for people.  Has yet to deliver anything useful.  Near extinction.  Would not be missed.

Drawn by Sam.

There was a young lad on a bridge,
Above a great pool of porridge;
He jumped off the side,
And opened up wide,
But the porridge ate him up like fudge.

There was an old lady of Memphis,
Who spoke with a spit and a hiss;
“Hok pita patoo!
Sass sis sauce sue!”
That garbled old lady of Memphis.

There is a young person whose eyes,
Leak oil whenever she cries;
If your car breaks down,
Give her a stern frown,
And she’ll fix you right up with those eyes.