I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.
Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning
Trying hard to get up on my leg.
Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment
Your love has given my heart a lift.
Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Friends and trouble go hand in hand.
Legends of the neighborhood.
Like statues and vacant buildings still stand.
A crime in plain view no one ever saw.
Held hostage in fear.
The mouse sturggles to escape from
Blood on the bricks that stains my mind.
Time takes me away.
Yet never leaves the memory far behind.
Summers in the city nights run into days.
We turn are backs to the truth.
But in this game everyone plays.
Heros are villians depending
on who you are.
Stories told bout the other night.
Hidden truths like the bat under the bar.
The players are future tombstones
Men glorified beyond there name.
the citys children caught within her confines.
Forced to play a different game.
the gray cat, Tempus, in doldrums
lazes, purring, stretching.
I have watched him:
cunning eyes half-closed,
he stalks bright birds in the garden,
near day lilies.
Wings wet from flights
through the sprinkler's sweeps,
the birds swoop, glide, flutter.
They light on dry grass,
strut and shake themselves,
are lulled. Then,
Tempus pounces on one bird.
The rest are routed…
And Tempus fugit.
I've been shoved out in the back yard,
A bit ruff, don't you agree?
It's not that I've disgraced myself,
No,It's because SHE caught a flea!
Don't know what all the fuss is about,
I mean they don't bother me.
Any way I need the exercise,
It's a great way to have a good scratch.
Those crafty little blighters
They get right under my thatch.
I like to chase 'em out
To see how many I can catch.
I grabs 'em and bites 'em
And has my bit of fun.
When they see these gnashers,grrr,
You should see them try to hop and run.
Oh! there's one,oh! there's one,
Oh! there's another one.
He-llo!what's going on here then?
Aaarghh! that stuffs awful,smells really bad.
Oy, watch where you're spraying!
If you don't mind,I still want'a be a dad!
Sometimes these humans just don't care.
They drive me barking mad.
Howoooo, I'm fed up with all this palaver
I can't stand all this strife--.
Hang on-time to be 'mummies darling'.
Here comes his soppy wife.
The things you have to do to make them happy.
It really is a dog's life!
Palaver-fuss or bother
Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”
Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”
One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…
Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.
Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”
Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.
Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed.
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.
Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.
Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray,
“Lord, let this day be my last.”
For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Both quietly passed away.
The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….
Stood an old dog beside the stone,
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place.
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.
She smiled. “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too. His name was Pal.”
I see her still in twilights shroud
At visions edge she’s standing still
She lives on for me, but makes no sound
Her presence felt , a loving glow.
She watches me with sightless eyes
The look that speaks but makes no sound
Where shadows spill she lingers now
But when I look I cannot see, just feel.
She should be here if fate were kind
My partner in the quite times
I miss the things she needed that I gave.
That giving soul that has now passed.
She waits, I know she does.
The bond that held will always be
She was my friend, my love, my charge.
Now my pain, my loss, my memory’s dear.
from his abc's
to that freaky billy jean
came a pop star
for all to love and see
from the apollo's stage
wondered if you were ready for screaming rage
for you never had a childhood of bliss
only done what was on joseph's list
a studded white glove
and white socks just because
a star on the hollywood walk of fame
for you sang and danced showing no shame
scandals of twisted truth
did not detour you from your missing youth
neverland was your own safari escape
who would figure your best friend would be a chimp of faith
michael may god cradle you in his arms
and basked in your king of pops worldly charm
will forever miss that porcelain smile
and always think of you on my radio dial
for now your at your heavens trial
may god forgive this lost and lonely child
In Loving Memory Of
Michael Joseph Jackson
Aug 29th 1958 - June 25th 2009
In a dog's life.We get toy balls, and toy bones
to play with.In a dog's life.We get names like
Rover, and Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, and Lucky.In a
dog's life.We chase balls, and cats, and cars,
and deer, a bird, a pheasant, or a little girl's
Christmas present.In a dog's life.We like milk
bone dog food, crunchy biscuits, and crunchy dog
treats.We like dog foods with plenty of meat.In a
dog's life.We jog along, when the master goes out
for a run, or we run all day long in the back yard,
just for fun.In a dog's life.We catch a flying frisbee.
As it floats through the air.We make all kinds of
noise.As we chase off the grizzly bear.In a dog's
Doggy Pet Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
All rights reserved
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
I miss you already, Buddy.
You’ve been the apple of my eye.
When I think of life without you,
It makes me cry. It makes me cry.
Oh, so many moments we've shared together,
From romping mischief and tummy rubs to those pesky fleas;
And nothing’s better than my puppy’s kiss;
You always try your very best to please.
You always curl up with me on the bed.
You always meet me at the door.
You run and jump and bark with such excitement.
Yes, Buddy, I know you couldn’t love me more.
And when all others fail me, Buddy,
My best friend is always there.
Through my very worst of times,
Your eyes and your attention said, “I care”.
Five to seven years for every one of mine
Is so little time... it’s hardly fair.
It must be God’s way of saying,
“Love them now… and well.
There’s precious little time to spare”.
But, if I should go before you, Buddy,
Love your new master without reserve;
And they will love you as you love them.
It’s what a great pup like you deserves.
I miss you already, Buddy.
You’ve been the apple of my eye.
THEY graze in beauty on the land
of grassy glades and dewy dales,
and all that's best of dark and tanned
meets in their aspect and their tails;
thus mellowed to that tender hand
which Shepherd to gentle glen compels.
One fleece the more, one hair the less,
had half repaired the shearless grace
which wreathes in every woolen tress
or darkly tightens o'er their face,
where mouths serenely sweet express
how pure, how dear their grazing-place.
And on that rump and o'er that round
so strong, so firm, yet elegant,
the baas that win, the hooves that bound,
but tell of days in meadows spent—
a flock at peace with all around,
a drove whose milk is innocent.
01/26/2014, "First Poem On Soup" Contest
The fire alarm went off
Water sprinklers came on
Near pups will not writeoff
Pups are my obsession
The floor and walls hotter
Dry hot air_no way out
Get faint start to totter
There's crash on door without
Master early today
He will care for me_pups
We can count on him to stay
His love grows in all ways
It's not him crash through door
He spots me; as I survey him
Shiver with pups on floor
He reaches_ touches rim
Container where pups lay
Places in pocket on coat
Fireman works swiftly this day
Concerned person take note
Who's here_need to be moved
Swiftly fireman moves now
To safety takes them improved
Flames leap; gone_ puppy chow
My life_pups was limited
Our time totally up
To be annihiliated
Fireman saved me _pups
My one_ only method
To say to him thanks_thanks
Is loving kiss slipshod
As he pets my scorched flank
(slipshod in this case:careless or messy)
Having leg pain
May mean legs not getting
Proper blood flow
Called Peripheral Arterial Disease (PAD)
What is PAD
With PAD arteries that carry blood to your legs
Feet or arms clogged with fats, others
Can slow or even stop blood flow
Common sign of PAD leg pain or cramping
Pain comes when you move
As you Walk, climb stairs or exercise
May go away when you rest
Healthy lifestyle can help
Provider may ask you to
Get regular exercise
Eat a heart healthy diet
Important to control problems
High Blood Pressure
Surgery is needed for PAD
She smiles all day she thinks it' s o.k.
She makes weird sounds and it's all day
My Aunt I asked will you not make that silly sound today?
My Aunt looked at me and said why? she always say
In public she snorts when she laughs and I get that
But when things get out of hand she scares my the cat
I have a cat but my Aunt well she kinda sat
Poor little cat it was now a furry little mat
I get really mad at her, but she seems to make me smile
Because one day we walked, she sang me a song about a mile
I was happy because she ran out of gas at last
She also could not speak at all, and that was a blast
Although she could not speak
She kept smiling she once never look bleak
My Aunt Willy who's Silly is the person who never does things in half's
I can not express any louder she makes me smile with laughs
What of this pregnant white cat?
Her dirty fur a smudge
Against the snow's crisp canvas,
She mews at my door for milk.
A stranger to me, she appeared
Without express invitation,
And now, she lingers like a cold.
This cat is an embarrassment.
Like friends whom I feed
Because I lack strength
To turn them away.
In a cat's life.We get a rubber mouse,
a shoe string, or a butterfly to play with.
In a cat's life.We get names like Sylvester,
Felix, Tom And Jerry, Morris, and Garfield.
In a cat's life.We chase hamsters, mice, and
rats, anything loose, with a string attached.
In a cat's life.We like a big bowl of warm milk.
Crunchy cat food nuggets.All filled with love.
We like tuna oil, and tuna fish, and goldfish.
Straight from the living room fish tank.In a
cat's life.We like to curl up next to our master,
like a fluffy pillow, weeping willow on a sofa
bed.In a cat's life.We take off our mittens and
booties.As we leave our paw prints in the
muddy soil.In a cat's life.
Cat's Life Poetry By Kim Robin Edwards
All rights reserved
An earful of breaks...
in overnight silence,
the ticking clock,
a cat fight,
a siren blares,
a hooting owl,
a plane zooms...
trucks and cars
River City life,
My dreams and desires
Are to write to inspire
I have so much to give
That is my reason to live
Peace always invades my spirit
I’m so glad my soul welcomes it
My compass to my life is lost
I cannot navigate the way home so pen pays the cost
I will always write to find my way
To my God I pray
As the realization dawned on me
When my pen flows I’m free
I can be anybody I want to be
So many of us have to settle for a life of deception
I shall soar beyond this world's limitations
In all things, follow your heart
In life be careful how you walk and talk
Think it, believe it
Don’t hold back do it
Let your dream grow
Please let God take control
*Wild Thang Monkey
All the things' you wanted to
Know about a monkey
But, was afraid to ask.....
1. Never touch one in the wrong place......
2. Never let a monkey see you naked!
3. Never let the monkey know that
you are about the same thang
4. Never let him see you pet or
disrespect astray monkey!
5. Never let a monkey go first!
6. Never ride a monkey out of anger!
7. Never let a monkey know all
of your business........
8. Never monkey around with another monkey!
9. Never let a monkey see you apologize.
10. Alway's remember that monkeys' are
naughturnal. Never let them see you
monkey around with another monkey....
Goldie, my peculiar but beloved cat,
has certain affectations --
she prefers, most times, her own society
and shuns her housemates.
But, sometimes, she cuddles
or will join the others
to laze around -- in the living room,
the dining room, a hallway, or
in the kitchen.
An inside cat who, early on,
suffered the indignity of
she asserts her independence
by darting into the front yard
when a door is opened --
and she pointedly ignores
any calls or pleas to come inside.
But when the door shuts
and no one is around, she is fearful,
immediately climbing up into the ash tree.
And there she stays
until I come to coax her down.
She may climb high up
and, finally, shakily manage
a descent to allow me to pick her up
and carry her back inside.
She never leaves the yard
but does enjoy ignoring me
when I am in a hurry.
She will dart about and run
from one side of the yard to the other.
For her, it's only an infrequent game.
And, as my treasured pet,
she certainly deserves to play
while testing the limit
of my affectionate, chagrined
< cakes and sausages on hot griddle
uncle Leroy's dam dog just piddled
slipped ~ slide across floor
grabbed shotgun by front door
now dam ole dog just plays an fiddle
bow bow bow bow bow bow bow bow ~ wow
ow ow ow ow ow ow ow bow ~ ow
with tail between own ~ legs
now dog sings ~ and ~ brags
about cousin's daisies's bad bow ~ pows
Entry For John Freeman's
Slapstick Limerick Contest
Poor Ole Dog LOL
It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
his untimely end.
He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends. I do care.”
Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.
So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?
We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.
Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.
He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.
“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.
And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…
There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight
to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.
“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy. You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats. It’s up to you”.
As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred. I almost cried.
On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.
But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.
But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.
For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea,
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me. Please, take me”.
“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.
In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.
Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.
I got really sick
Or else I was old,
I need to go now
My owners were told.
It happened so quick
I just went to sleep,
I hurt no longer
My owners would weep.
I went to heaven
And barked at the door,
"Please let me come in"
"I can play once more.
I know my owners
Are really so sad,
I usually was good
Yet sometimes was bad.
I had a good home
For that I was blessed,
I'll seem them again
When they lay to rest.
He lay dying_ slowly did his life pass
Watching others as they moved about room
As his heart failed, fluid filled him enmass
More than his body could handle consume
Legs swollen so that look like muscle man
Stomach swollen sounds as ripe watermelon
Lived a good life years beyond most lifespan
Pain in eyes _ don't really need this athlon
God how can in life some have to suffer much
The depth of their suffering you have shown me
Through the death of this pet whose so soft touch
Touched our hearts to depth in death _ made me see
Instant death_ here; then gone_ suffering little
So sad_ long death slow torture overbattle_
Early_ quiet house
Warm, snug under covers _dreams
Kiss, hugs, snuggles_ah!
Mist rises from creek
As dreams take me to seek love
Snuggles warmth tickle
Kiss, kiss, kiss, snuggles
Waking daylight streams through blinds
Princess! quit licking__~~
Contest: Morning, noon, or night senryu
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
Penned by: Sara Kendrick
On August 20, 2011
*Note:Click on about this poem..
She’s out there chasing a cricket
Through bush, through shrub & through thicket
Together they hop
But when she gets it, she just wants to lick it!
A cat whose vet took his eye
Just cannot quite understand why
His eye’s been enucleated,
3-D vision reduciated,
So now, he keeps an eye out for an eye
Ya gotta keep limericks loose
Think green eggs, or perhaps Dr. Seuss
They’re structured, it’s true,
But they’re also a zoo
Whose tenants are all on the loose!
I frolic in fountains of words
Overflowing with serious absurds
Each poem I write
Wakes up and takes flight
Joining angels and faeries and birds
You ask that we write a good limerick
How to do so, I haven’t a glimmerick
So I struggle and frown
Teaching poems to clown
So a smile on your lips will be shimmerick
A cat with a mouth full of mouse
Brought her feast right into my house
She played with her food
Who was not in the mood
To be a banquet of mouse in the house
The nightmares that shadow my sleep
Stampede the proverbial sheep
Right out of my mind
When I try to unwind
I find my appointment with sleep hard to keep
In her search for original truth
She met people unsavory and couth
She knitted and purled
But only unfurled
Yarns told by new age and old youth
Cat, suddenly pink,
Drinks her water from out of the sink
She looks so absurd
Since she’s been de-furred
I really don’t know what to think!
If one and one is two and two is four,
And there’s only two ways to go through a door,
Then, is earth up or down?
And, where is down town?
These are questions we need to explore!
A was that is an is
Tried to mind my biz
But I sent it packing,
Its presence was lacking
And I don’t have time for such shiz!
A couple who lived in Los Lunas
Loved the wide desert sky’s crystal blueness
They’d stare at the air,
Over here, over there
And rejoice at the feeling of newness
A cat with a very fat gut
Found it easier to walk on his butt
He’d drag it around
Across carpet and ground
And use it to slam the doors shut
Said the Missus to her dear Mr. Otter,
“There’s something I think that you oughta
Do before we get old
To protect us from cold –
You oughta make the hot water hotter!”
The ghosts who live up in my attic
Make noises that sound much like static
I’ve tried to send them away,
But they’re here to stay,
Those staticky ghosts in my attic
I do not know?
Many, many years ago – when I was only ten,
Times were so much happier - life was simpler then,
No problems met with me each day
My role in life was to run and play.
And destiny was just a word
I never used and seldom heard.
My youthful days were never spent
In worry over food or rent.
But fate will always have its say
In all things meant to come our way.
And something lacking in my life
Was often causing major strife.
Loneliness would follow me
Though kids galore were there to be
Playmates during times of need
When something caused my soul to bleed
Then fate employed parental love
And called on heaven up above
To let something play the part
And still the aching in my heart
Well, heaven knew how kids are made
And knew what caused my joy to fade.
So, early on one winter morn
A little spotted pup was born.
He’s grown into a faithful friend
And many joyful hours we spend
Just knowing that the love we share
Whenever needed will be there.
Dogs are of a special breed
And always fill some special need.
I'll cherish always that special day -
The day that Buster came to stay
John Posey 12/04/12
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
The Gift of Sound.
In our little house stands an upright piano
Tuned by a blind man blessed by the gift of sound.
My son sat one day playing a masterpiece
Wrote long ago by a man who couldn’t hear.
Listening to the music it took my mind away to
Afar magical places no luggage and no cases.
My mind kept jumping between different scenes
Fields of colored flowers the loveliest it can be.
Shadows of far mountains colors in different hues
A pied piper sat under a tree playing his favorite tune.
Sheep gathered together chased by a cleverly dog
Taught by nature no cane and no flog.
Oh… the gift of sound.
Each morning, when I first awake;
a daily vigil, I will take.
I arch my back and I stretch out long;
this helps my body to grow strong.
To my box, I take a walk;
release a stench, in lime-like chalk.
I dine in silence, savoring;
the tasty flavors…mouth-watering.
Upon my favorite stool, I sit;
paws tucked beneath, belly and chest.
‘till I transcend, my physical home.
I am a Buddha-cat, you see
And a Bodhisattva, I hope, to be.