An Ode To My Stalker, while I cannot sleep…

In the absurdity of things, I have found some rather immature stalker tracing my whereabouts, for what purpose I know not, other than for a strange amusement. I am not famous, do not drive a Lexus, nor have a big house on the hill (although said stalker might  find solace in such a place as the house on the hill). It is with partial amusement, and partial caffeine-overload, that I begin a nice little poem, more in the style of Mister Seuss than Mister Shakespeare. Please be assured I am most likely not speaking of you, since 90.99999999% of the people reading my posts are…well, likely normal people….or at least don’t want to know what I brush my teeth with at night…

It is strange, you see-

to follow after me.

I am not so tall, nor so wide

so I can always go into the bushes to hide.

but- you follow me here and follow me there

what purpose is this, that I should care?

my socks are not green

nor my hair turning white

I cannot discern why you would so delight

in knowing my weight and especially my height

and what dental products I have on my shelves

and what I think of hobbits and certainly of elves

it makes no sense, it doesn’t compute

I thought you were sane and a bit more astute.

But now that I know how your mind is quite muddled

I stand on my head, entirely befuddled…

and nearly asleep, finally.

About thelostkerryman

Thelostkerryman is an author, and entrepreneur, living in the forests of a consistently confused country. Here in this hill country, hurling doesn't usually involve a hurley; store-made soda bread has the consistency of a sea sponge; and Kerrygold butter has finally found a permanent place on the grocery shelves everywhere. His blogs are an account of his adventures, thoughts, eclectic -and eccentric- ramblings, random or insightful poetry, humor and non-humor, pictures (photos), video, essays, fiction, poetic fiction, nonfiction, drama, and writing he has not classified in the description above. All of his posts from,,, and are copywrited according to international copywrite law.
This entry was posted in Language, Life, Poetry, Relationships, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to An Ode To My Stalker, while I cannot sleep…

  1. queenlorene says:

    Luv it…had a stalker myself in college. But mine wasn’t nearly so amusing. Although, nowadays, anyone with enough energy to obsessively follow another person is capable of anything.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s