I heard a scream from the laundry room,
A shout, “Come QUICK! And bring the BROOM!”
Ran down the hall, and through the door,
“There it is!  THERE, on the floor!”
I looked down at the clay brown tile,
That’s when I saw the gecko smile.
He looked at me.  Looked in my eyes
As if to say, “Are you surprised?”
“It’s warm in here when the dryer runs
I’m just sleepin’ in the morning sun,
Wouldn’t hurt a fly (maybe that’s not true,)
But I promise, Sir, I won’t hurt you.”

Its skin was tan, like its tile bed,
“But, It’s so small,” I turned and said,
“I don’t care.  It’s in my HOUSE!
Remember when you trapped that mouse?
So here’s what I want you to do
Go buy a gecko trap or two,
And get that monster out of here,
I’m not coming back till the coast is clear.”
And she turned around and walked away
Guess I had my orders for the day.
There’s a gecko in the laundry room
And I’m standing there with a worthless broom.

The gecko stared, I stared right back,
I was making plans for a sneak attack
When all at once the gecko took a leap onto my shirt
“Sir, give up now, I beg of you, before one of us gets hurt.
Tell your wife I ran away; I think she’ll understand.
After all I’m just a gecko and you’re a big strong man.”
He jumped onto a dark green towel, then to my surprise,
He turned green and disappeared, before my very eyes!
That little guy was really quick,
And the camouflage thing was a **** good trick,
But I knew he wasn’t really gone,
I had a job to do, so the war was on.

I closed the door and chased that guy, for an hour, ‘round the room
I’d get close and swing at him with my gecko huntin’ broom
He’d stretch, and yawn, and leap away, turning colors all the while,
“Come on Sir, try harder,” he said with his ever-present smile.
I moved the washer and the dryer, the laundry basket, AND the clothes,
All the time he’s laughing, as my frustration grows.
“Excuse me, Sir, “ he said, I’m getting bored with ‘Hide and Seek’
There’s a window, over there, think I’ll just go and take a peek,
You turn around, and close your eyes and count from one to ten,
I’ll find another place to hide and we can start the game again.”
So I turned around began to count, “One, and two, and three,”
No tiny little gecko can make a fool of me.

I knew the window was cracked open, I would sweep him right outside
Then I wouldn’t care at all where the gecko chose to hide.
As I counted four, I turned around (I didn’t wait for ten)
I thought I’d get the drop on him, but I had to think again.
The gecko, on the outside, gave me a little wave
“I know what you were going to do – Sir, that wasn’t very brave.”
I saw at once what he had done,
Now there were THREE instead of one.
“Sir, I was getting tired, so I called a couple of my friends
I told them you were fun to play with, but I guess it all depends,
On whether you keep playing, or let us stay the night.
We promise when your wife comes back we’ll all stay out of sight.

I turned and wandered down the hall, and told my wife with pride,
“It’s finished, over, job well done, the gecko is outside!”
“Thank you dear,” she said and turned to Oprah on TV.
But wait, I thought, (though not out loud) till you find the other three.
Phil Lindsey 11/17/15

A sneaky rat and a little gecko
Both lived in a family house
The little gecko always greeted the family
The sneaky rat always stole their food

The family loved the little gecko
Because it was cute and kind
The family hated the sneaky rat
Because it kept creating a mess

They set a trap for the rat
Hoping that they could get rid of it
But the sneaky rat was clever
And told the gecko to get the food from the trap

The little, innocent gecko stepped on the trap
And the sneaky rat ran away
Even the family couldn't help the little gecko
Now it is trapped there forever.

When I was a black clad killing machine
no change there then
they called me the mist master
with the feet of a gecko

I used to climb walls by thinking
funny enough I climb walls still
but now it is just stress and dying
on the ceiling with feet of a gecko

Don't turn the light on
it is bad for a reptilians eyes
whist I hang from the ceiling
catching moths and flies

Ok if I can stay really still
waiting for that juicy ****
yes I am a lizard hero
with feet of a gecko

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

It isn't like that.
It isn't a left turn too early,
a lark awake at night,
thick brown light in an open field;
unpredictable: a bad or counter-miracle.
It is only wanton.

You know how it is
Suddenly, something trapped between your toes:
the world has a strangled voice, it is
unroofed. You want the comfort of normal walls,
normal light, normal noise; in your hand
is a hot brand you'd halfway use
to smith it back together
and halfway swallow.
I had different plans for this vacation
than destruction.

I had plans. You had plans. The earth
planned its axial tilt; the weather planned
its burning; we put aside too little water.
A few plants were familiar -
the ruined piñon pine I remembered from the placard.
One lonesuch tree that made a little niche
at a defiant angle into the air
and outlived all except its orphaning.
How we thought we could fare better, I cannot say.

Ten feet up by one hundred feet over:
one liter water per mile climbed:
fatigue. Fatigue.
The quiet supremacy of all these rules for living like
transit and occultation
refraction and dimness
exertion
hunger
peristalsis pulling down
huge loads of sunlight
into the ***** gully
like bread and meat.

You will not see the bottom
no matter how hard you look.

If blood I am, then what kind of blood?
Unsettled and unsettling. The circulatory system
has an apt name: sometimes I can feel yesterday's blood
in the same neurons, saying the same thing.
I have no choice but to repeat it.
Time sheds its significance.
I have no continuity:
I have rhythms.

The new day, on fire and sitting in the trickle
you held a golden fish in your palm
as if you had made it by will
and cupped, it circled in the valley of your fingers
and I ate from the vision of care.

Erosion: isn't that what made these furrows?
I beg it to unmake me
flat like a seabed and many fathoms green
where the sun will never reach me.

In the penumbra of your anger
I do not fear dying,
only dying unclean.
Heights are all the same.
They would all break me and none would enough.
The grasshoppers and gecko hatchlings
all die in their way, rubbed in the hot dry dust.
Parched, I gnash my stone teeth
and tongue of chaparral -
I am making a song to say
die with me
but smile at me.

Then I see it through flashes of temper,
frame by frame, like a fingertip behind a pinwheel:
a dream of something distant that is also true.
Dreams of freedom alongside dreams of dying.

what forests are those we pass,
blazing along the railway tracks,
a tree bloom of still cranes,
stream black of ******* bane,

stench of dead city rubble,
factories of rusted cast metal,
distant cotton twilight skies,
sun slide across a bunch of wires,    

passing tunnels echo
lonely platforms, frantic gecko,
looming hillside,
crackle dry wood fire,

a god barred in lock&key, 
blink glimpse of the sea 
one rush of vision,
pebble fling at frisson,

metal-crunch rhythm,
grind music sublime,
spark, grunt, grate,
we arrive, we dissipate...

there you were.
fully clothed, but never covered.
over the edge and under the sky.
you ruled as if you'll never die.

you stick yourself unto the wall.
and you never knew when to fall
we saw you facing the golden sky.
on cloaks of murky waters you always lie.
with your tail gone asunder
far awaiting death and its mighty wonders.

siblings stare and the spectators share.
how lovely it defeated you.
how less of them actually care.
and no one knew, cause they had no clue
it was only left for the eyes of the blind.
and the stare of an eagle.

From a distance which only it sees
and only, so little was known,
for the shiny scales, and this forbidden tale!
for however we perceive it.
we never know how endless the cycle is.
for however we ended the story.
there always began another
for however suicide be punished.
there was always that.
there was always the "gecko"

If you cut a
Gecko's tail off
It'll grow back

If you do
It again
The gecko
Would be like
"Dude.."

She's strong and wise and sticky fingered
She's squishy and smart and colourful and fun
She's small and quick and shiny
And she's gonna find herself in
Being free