My Little Lobster - a poem

My Little Lobster  

by Susan Paczek

inspired by Edgar Allan's Poe The Raven

Once upon a July cheery I was up late tired eyes bleary

Pondering money and wondering how I could make some more
But around my head buzzing by, there was an annoying house fly
So annoying it made me cry, “What are you bothering me for?”
“Irritating house fly” I said “What are you bothering me for??
Go on and fly out the door” 

While near my ears this housefly barreled, at my feet the Chronicle Heralds 
Were piled in stacks so high they had fallen cluttering the floor
I rolled one up and I swatted at the flying pest besotted
With its quick demise I plotted that  I would have peace once more
If I could get rid of that fly, yes, I would have peace once more
Until then we were at war

As I wielded the business section in the fly’s general direction
Printed page reminded me Nova Scotia’s economy is poor
Expenses soaring, jobs lacking, folks had turned to minks and fracking
Likewise wondering about money and how they could make some more
It seemed that many were short of money and many could use some more
So said the Ivany Report 

So now there was doom and gloom to add to the buzzing in the room
As I thought of issues troubling not just me but the whole South Shore
And suddenly out of the blue, I asked the fly “What can I do?”
“Yes house fly I’m asking you, have you any ideas I could explore?
Any ideas on what I can do to make the economy grow some more?
Something to sell on the South Shore?” 

What happened next is quite shocking but the house fly began talking
While I sat there stunned and gawking, it spoke ideas I hadn’t had before
It said “I think you should worry less and come up with a smart business
Like making papier mache lobsters to sell at the Jenny Jib store.
Yes turn that Chronicle Herald into a lobster  to sell at Jenny’s store
And once it sells, then make some more”

“Alright”  I said “Prithee  tell me, your business plan, go on sell me
Explain how to market these lobsters to have people wanting more"

"Tell me”  I said getting louder “About this superstar of chowder
This iconical crustacean that I overlooked before
This succulent crustacean that I admit I did ignore
Though it’s popular on the South Shore” 

It said, “Look at My Little Pony, do you think that small horses only
Are the sole creatures that people could collect and adore?
‘One of a Kind’ is the seduction, an antidote to mass production
Mass production can depress those shopping at a big box store
You learned yourself that mass production only makes your arms sore
While leaving your soul wanting more”

“True” I said “I do remember carving crows this past December
And giving myself tendonitis like I’d never felt before
‘Make more stuff’ I had felt strongly now I see I had thought wrongly
Though I knew quality is what customers are looking for
Have you any advice with which my motivation would restore?
Some secret I overlooked before?”

“Energy!” The fly did chatter “Energy turned into matter
Mind the energy trapped in sculptures headed out your studio door
Your studio should be your Eden, your focus should be on your freedom
Stay present and stay mindful while sculpting sculptures for the store
Relax and you’ll see that the lobsters really are a metaphor
For that which humans yearn for more

And just as we flies love honey humans love that which is funny
And people enjoy tributes to those well known in human lore
Just be sure to avoid lawsuit but I think that you can contribute
With each tasteful, thoughtful tribute inspired by those in human lore
This is all my advice for you, and now I have nothing more” 
With that, the fly flew out the door.

And thus I began sculpting slowly while listening to Eckhart Tolle
Oprah, Jim Carrey and many other teachers I adore
The housefly’s point I did not miss and so now I’m focused on my bliss
And in pondering which lobster would be the first made for the store
“Ivany Sunshine” came to me as the first of My Little Lobsters galore
He’s the first, there will be more

Inspired by My Little Ponies I hope I won’t upset the bronies 
Or earn a ‘cease and and desist’ letter from a Hasbro signor
If that happens I won’t be glum but switch “My Little” to “Awesome”
And carry on with making papier mache lobster décor
Dreaming of boosting GDP with this labour of amour
Sculpting lobsters evermore!

Sandcastles - a poem

Sandcastles

by Susan Paczek

This morning all of us went to the beach 

To build a sandcastle or two or three each 

Some of us just built a simple one 

To leave more time to bask in the sun 

Others worked all day at such a frantic pace
They had no chance to enjoy their finished space 

Someone made others build a fortress with a moat
That was guarded by soldiers in a power boat 

Two young lovers built themselves a sand nest 

Adorned with stones and shells they liked the best 

Another couple argued endlessly
About where each window and door would be

One free spirit ignored advice and critique
And built a tower so stunning and unique

Someone could not seem to get even one built 

But kicked over others without any guilt 

Another managed to steal a couple’s sand 

To ruin the dream house that they had planned 

A few people worked together with skills to share 

And built the most beautiful castles seen anywhere 

We built and played until the end of the day 

When high tide came and washed everything away

Lucy and the Snake - a poem

Lucy And The Snake 

by Susan Paczek

 

There was a girl named Lucy 

She had never seen a snake 

So she pitied one who said he

Found that friends were hard to make

“I don’t know why no one likes me” 

He sniffed, lying there in a coil 

Lucy said “People can be silly” 

As she lifted him from the soil 

She draped him over her shoulders 

Though she was wearing a boa 

People greeted them with cold stares 

And whispered “Look! A snake, ooh ah!”

Her friends said “What are you doing!?” 

“Snakes are bad news, you'll get bitten”
She said “But I find his rattle soothing.
Just look in his eyes, you'll be smitten”

Lucy and the snake hung out a lot 

Til one day on a café’s deck 

The snake was startled by a gunshot 

And pumped venom into Lucy’s neck

The snake looked on coldly as Lucy went gray 
Thinking, "I am what I am, I cannot help it" 
And said to the crowd as he slithered away 
 “If you play with snakes expect to get bit”

The Little Howler Monkey Who Ran For President - a poem

The Little Howler Monkey Who Ran For President

by Susan Paczek 

In the forest over there

Swinging merrily from a tree
Always smiling, always laughing
Was a little howler monkey

The humans in her forest
Weren’t doing very well
Some thought if she’d be president
That would be rather swell

“Be your president?” she laughed
“Well I guess I could
I suppose I have a platform
That could be rather good”

So the Monkey Party was formed
A campaign manager was found
Her platform was written down
And swiftly passed around

At the rallies she said “Listen up!” 
“And take heed of my advice
My Monkey Party has ideas
Which you might find very nice

I think we all should take more naps
And work at jobs much less
Everyone would have less stuff
But would also have less stress

Let’s all spend more time outdoors
And more time playing in fresh air
Grateful for nature’s beauty
That surrounds us everywhere

We’ll care more for friends and family
And be conscious of our actions
While clearing mindless consumption
Addictions and distractions

We’ll be more efficient with our time
And stop wasting our resources
Until we’ve healed all the land
And repaired our water courses

Let’s all eat more things from plants
Like leaves and berries and roots
And seeds and nuts and tubers
Pods, flowers, shoots and fruits

Any animals that help
Feed our community
Will be treated with kindness
Instead of cruelty

We’ll eat when we are hungry
And when we’re not we’ll fast
Spoiled stockpiles, needless shortages
Will be a thing of the past

We will need less hospitals
Because our health will be so good
As we make sure we’re all relaxed
And eating nutritious food

We’ll realize we’re all connected
No one is better than anyone else
Anything I do to you
I am doing to myself

We’ll cross the palace walls
Built around each miser’s soul
Knowing that at the centre of excess
Could be a heart that has a hole

We’ll show respect and love
To the sickest and deluded
Until everyone in the forest
Knows that they’re included

More people will use their talents
Or seek higher education
All will be able to chase their dreams
Whatever their situation

We’ll recognize that money is just paper
And see it as a useful tool
It will no longer be a weapon
A few tricksters can use to fool

Bankers and investors will stop
Pricing things arbitrarily
So we’ll curb excessive payments
On everything that should be free

With less value put on things
There’ll be less to hoard and store
So we can get rid of our military
As we get rid of war

As all of these changes
Affect everyone in the land
We’ll have more time for sports and leisure
And for making things by hand

We’ll all sing songs of love
To drown out messages of fear
We’ll tune into The Positive Channel
Until it is all we want to hear” 

The little howler monkey
Won her race by a landslide
Her first act as president
Was to invite everyone outside

Her followers all climbed up
Into one enormous tree
Where they laughed and ate leaves
Into the evening, happily

Then they slept a solid sleep
Through the dark still night
And when the morning came
Nobody wanted to fight

So to celebrate
That the darkness was done
Everybody formed a chorus
And howled loudly at the sun

The Young Mackerel - a poem

The Young Mackerel

by Susan Paczek

Once upon a time
There was a young mackerel
Brought up in a school
That swam together very well

Fast as jets, the school
Would swim around their bay
Without a fish out of place
Every single day

One day this young fish
Who had ventured off alone
Saw a fleet of fishing boats
Approach his ocean home

He told an older fish
That danger was drawing near
But this leader of the school
Did not want to hear

"Son", the leader said
"I've swam this bay for so long
How dare you imply
That our planned course could be wrong

Whatever you think you saw
There must be another reason
Because I know without a doubt
It is NOT fishing season

So today we'll swim around the bay
As we have always done
Now quit your foolish talk
And get in line with everyone"

Conflicted, the young fish
Chose to obey his inner voice
And hid in a cave knowing
Elders would not approve his choice

Later he felt relieved but sad
To win his bittersweet bet
As he watched his entire school
Swim into a fishing net

Irritated Oyster - a poem

Irritated Oyster

by Susan Paczek

Irritated oyster
Go on, give it a whirl 
Take your source of bother
And turn it into a pearl

Irritated seahorse
When trouble comes don't stay
Abruptly change your course
And quickly swim away

Irritated turtle
Your enemies know full well
There's only so much you'll handle
Before retreating in your shell

Irritated starling
Don't be scared to sing your truth
Take a deep breath, darling
And shriek it from the roof

Irritated porcupine
If a creature wishes you ills
Grit your teeth, arch your spine
And pepper them with your quills

Irritated chimpanzee
After you've been burned
Try thinking positively
Find the lesson to be learned

Chimpanzee Mugs by Susan Paczek - stoneware, not fired or glazed yet

Two Little Pigs - a poem

Two Little Pigs 

by Susan Paczek 

 Once upon a time on a farm 
Two little pigs shared a barn stall
One thought life was gloom, doom and harm
The other thought life was a ball

The happy pig said to his pal one day 
"Let’s go romp around in all the flowers
The sun is out, the fields smell sweet with hay
We can play around outside for hours"

“Nope” said his friend “I’m staying put in this pen  

I think I see clouds forming over there 

And I can’t see why you’d want to frolic when 

There’s so much danger lurking everywhere"

Later when the happy pig was done enjoying his day 
He couldn’t find his pal so he asked a mouse
The mouse said “Oh. The farmer came and took your friend away
I believe he is down at the slaughterhouse”.

Papier Mache Pig by Susan Paczek