Best Dogging Poems
I embrace the nocturnal shade
coiled beneath tangerine lamplight
on the corner of the street
in case a certain little lady walks by.
I am ever watchful
in the telephone kiosk bathed in smells of damp
directories, of urine and pubescent vandalism;
silhouetted at the mouth of the
tubeway entrance;
sat in the rusting Lada across the road;
ever watchful,
gaze unwavering, unflinching.
I have perfected the dead-eye stare.
I am the vigilant sentinel.
I am watching you.
Wherever you choose to go I am
mere footsteps away,
dogging your trail.
At the salon I watch your pale tresses
cut and blown dry
through stencilled window glass.
That time I got a lock of your hair.
I like to collect souvenirs.
They bring us closer.
I know you know I am here,
I make certain of that;
dead certain.
I want you to know I am here,
always present
on the periphery of your vision;
live ghost haunting your existence.
The police have made empty threats,
charges of loitering with intent.
Intent to do what, though?
That is the question.
Intent to do what?
It is for me to know and you to discover.
This is the game, my sweet,
the game we play.
I feel your fear when you pick up the 'phone
and no one answers,
only the romance of dead silence;
I can smell your sweat leaking down the line,
taste your breath, sharp and spicy with fear,
burning down the line.
I sense your arousal,
the wetness of your loins, slick
with the lubricant of anticipation,
of desire,
of surrender.
But we do not speak, no,
not yet,
but soon.
Be patient, beloved, be patient as I am patient,
stoic and timeless and patient.
I hear you sobbing, crying down the line,
hear the crystal crash of vodka glass shattered
against the wall. Be patient, calm yourself,
for soon, very soon, we will meet...and
then my intent will become clear... as
clear as those shards of shattered crystal,
my sweet...
1/21/19
"OAT"
I was wrong to quit
It's been too long I admit
Was gone a bit
On a trip
Putting down lagers quick
Now I'm back with a stronger grip
Deep down in the water sits
The key for you and me, it is not a myth
Now go ahead and ponder this
Does god exist?
I will honor this
World and bring the proper gifts
My help I will always offer it
With a whole lot of wit
I already did it, before you thought of it
Had to stop to piss
Up atop a cliff
As I was walking my boxer pit
While wearing a copper fit
Back in the day I bought a bit
Couldn't tell you the last time I copped a zip
It keeps coming my way, a whole lot of it
Meanwhile, all day long I sip
You should already know, I'm off of it
We're polar opposites
You keep talking ****
Unaware, that I'll bring forth the apocalypse
Soon,you'll need a walking stick
And put in a coffin quick
Before Autumn hits
Still paying my homages
I would rather remain anonymous
In all honestness
Here to follow through on promises
Got no time for incompetence
Across the seven continents
They continue their reconaissance
Over the populace
Because of much more than opulence
It does have to do with dominance
And is rather ominous
You're a drone, I'm a rocket ship
You're a mosquito, I'm a hippopotamus
I'm negative, you're HIV positive
I protected it, you kept raw dogging it
I'm clean with good hygiene, you smell like rotten fish
I'm off the Richter, you're sweeter than a box of chocolates
When I decide to finish, they'll wanna audit this
. *DOGGY STYLE*
Tonight! Tonight! I must display.
About my man's doggy style way.
Once he comes home he acts like I'm his "DOGGY BAG."
"It’s DOGGING ME!" The way he starts to nag.
He came from the bar with his "DOG BREATH!"
Calling me by the name of Beth.
When he settles down he starts acting like he's the "TOP DOG!"
"DOGGONE IT!" doesn't he know I'm adding this bone to my blog.
Now he's drunk acting "MEAN LIKE a JUNK YARD DOG!"
I taunt him by calling him a pig and a hog.
We "FIGHT LIKE CATS and DOGS," this really must be love?
"It's a DOG eat DOG WORLD" when push comes to shove!
Once again he will sleep "IN THE DOG HOUSE!"
This time for ripping my favorite blouse.
It's too bad "YOU CAN'T TEACH an OLD DOG NEW TRICKS!"
I wish he was a real dog, he needs to be neutered and fixed.
I think I will laugh and kiss him good night.
Anyways "HIS BARK is WORSE THAN HIS BITE!"
By morning he will be "SICK AS A DOG" and scary like a mouse.
I'm still waiting to be "Happy as a FLEA in a DOG HOUSE!"
"HE IS NOTHING BUT A HOUND DOG" thinking it's doggy style all the time!
In his rabies case his desires keeps getting worse than slobber and slime.
.Should I tell my man that his actions are what I call humans love torch?
With the reaction "IF you can’t run with the BIG DOG's PUPPY, STAY on the porch!"
By; smiles
My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played,
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.
The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.
I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,
So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth,
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.
Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.
I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.
Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.
The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.
The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.
So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.
That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.
The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.
more of my poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com
Red #1
Entry #5
2-24-12
Ever since he came into the picture
You stopped talking to me
You abandoned me
Now I'm all alone
Your friend has had me overthrown
He's dogging me like I'm not a friends of yours
I had a crush
I blushed
Why did I ever like you?
You're irresistible
You're irreplaceable
You act like you're unavailable
I wanna woo you
I can't stop thinking about you
I can't keep you out of my head
But my subconscious is telling me that you're better off dead
All right, no more Abecedarian again!
Buzz off,
Cut me some slack,
Dogging me,
Entrapping me with a
Form of poetry I am not
Good at,
Hamilton!
I entreat you
Jot down some other forms that won’t
Knock me off my rocker, like
Lyric, Limerick or Lay on
Myth and Mystery,
Narrative, Ninette or Nonet,
Ode, Ottava rima or Sicilian Octave maybe,
Parody, Pastoral or Parable even,
Quatrains or Qasida on
Romantic comedy or Repartee,
Shadow, how about Seharaa, Sestina or Senryu?
Tail-rhyme, Tanka, Triolet, Tetractys or Tyburn even?
Unlike Terza Rima, Terzanelle or
Villanelle and Vaasokht, just have contests on
Wit and Wisdom in form Vers Libre!
Xerox my words, Shadow Hamilton—
Yonder, beyond your vision, in the wings awaits a
Zealous Poet!
~07/01/15
Abecedarian contest by Shadow Hamilton
The Prairie dogging contra versies Oh, the queen of dramaturge absurd this stick stinking stirrer A interdiction of artless showmanship Dramatis personae that’s pure over acting bull in a glass house better left in an outhouse
DOG DAYS
The heat of summer keeps coming after me
Like a dog hounding me to a sweat
Growling with thunderous fury before the storm
Lashes my face
If I run from one place too hot
He trails me to my cooler lair
Dogging my heels
Panting, tongue out, I reel in torture
Can’t shake him off
...................................................................................................
Note
This is all about my hatred of hot weather. I just live for the arrival of winter.
The title is an expression meaning very hot days, referring to the idea that the sun
is in the same part of the sky as the brightest star in the sky, Sirius, the “Dog Star”,
and the two shining bodies supposedly produce extra heat.
Can You Please Wait A Second...?
In steed of ye
mounting your stock
key high horse,
perhaps named Rock
Key, and head off...lock
stock and barrel,
who knows where,
now lemme seat chew wait
ma self, and quickly knock
out quick mention about
hour (meaning everybody
within the wide world),
and their webbed
warp and woof weave
courtesy of Father Time
analogously to a jock
key hunkering down
aiming tubby first
crossing finish line
at races, afterwards celebrate
with social feted outing, while
scheduling proctologist appointment,
et cetera, sans squeezing
late radio talk ad hoc
meeting, an
extemporaneous yet timely
lesson indirectly related
to bird dogging, i.e. migrating
fast as Glock
pistol can shoot, essentially
sound (garden) resembling
joyus honking flock
of seagulls heading
Southside Johnny
and Asbury Jukes,
and on Tortoise -
to sea dock
side of the moon
Pink Floyd attired as Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle,
whose schedule Nsync
with YES men hosting
showtime merely minutes away...
remember ring that char existence
enslaved to thee a bomb
been nibble atomic clock,
which device uses an electron
transition frequency went
sallying forth in
the microwave tent,
experiencing optical radiation pent
up ether, or ultra
violet region meant
for electromagnetic fervent
active spectrum, or Palestra event
of atoms comprising
Adam and the Ants
(as well all other matter)
linkedin to frequency standard for
timekeeping Strunk and White
element of style.
My auntie declared she went dogging
I wondered if I should start blogging
But I’ll tell you the truth
She’s walking her puppy Ruth
Not eyeing lovers when she’s jogging!
In memory of Joan
02/02/22
It wasn't till I learned to drive
That I could look forward to going on a family trip in the car.
With the spectre of car sickness always dogging me along the way
Waiting to appear at the most inopportune moments.
I remember once being sick over my brothers new suit before
We were even out the gate.
But as soon as I started driving my stomach underwent
A miraculous transformation.
And is now quite definitely cast in iron.
Even when I clean up other people's sick.
There is one trip I still dread
That no amount of driving will keep me from feeling
Sick in stomach and in mind.
It is a trip I never plan on taking
But somehow find myself on even when I know I will find no pleasure there.
Thankfully I now don't very often go down that road
And now when I do common sense prevails
Leading me back home quick smart.
As going on a guilt trip is just plain selfish,
With an accident waiting around every bend.
And no happy ending in sight.
MEMO FROM SANTA,
THERE WILL BE NO CHRISTMAS THIS COMING SEASON..
I SUPPOSE YOU WANT TO KNOW MY WHOLE REASON.
EVERY YEAR I GET THIS CHRISTMAS LIST.
THE MORE I READ IT THE MORE IT GIVES ME FITS.
I WORK ALL YEAR MAKING CKRISTMAS TOYS FOR ALL THOSE LITTLE GIRLS
AND BOYS. NO ONE WANTS THEM.
THEY WANT IPODS,XBOXES PLAYSTSTIONS,COMPUTERS,COMPUTER
GAMES. WHO THEY THINK I AM THE I.B.M?
I TRY TO MAKE CHRISTMAS BRIGHT.
THE ELVES WANT MORE MONEY,THE REINDEERS FIGHT..
RUDOLF NOW DRINKING HIS NOSE DONT GLOW.
HOW AM I SUPPOSE TO SEE WHERE TO GO?
MY SLED IS OLD NEEDS REPAIRED,
I CANT FLY THAT OLD SLED EVERYWHERE.
ON CHRISTMAS EVE IM FLYING DOGGING TREES,
CLIMBING CHIMNEYS SKINNING MY KNESS.
DOING ALL THIS, JUST TO FULFILL EVERYONE CHRISTMAS LIST.
WHEN IM FLYING OVER YOUR HOME,
PLEASE WHEN IM FLYING OVER YOUR HOME,
DONT CALL ME ON YOUR CELL PHONE
ASKING FOR ONE MORE CHRISTMAS WISH?
TO BRING YOU A SATELILITE DISH.
JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THINGS MIGHT GET BETTER,
THE I.R.S SENDS ME A LETTER.
NOW ISNT THAT FUNNY,WHO EVER HEARD ANYONE SENDING SANTA ANY
MONEY? THOSES MONEY MUNGERS,JERKS.
NOW YOU KNOW WHY, I FEEL LIKE SCRAPPING THE WHOLE DARN WORKS.
THEN I STARTED THINKING WHAT CHRISTMAS WOULD BE?
IF THERE WASNT A SANTA TO PUT CHRISTMAS GIFTS UNDER YOUR
CHRISTMAS TREE..
SO PLEASE DELETE THIS MEMO FROM ME.
ILL BE THERE AGAIN ON THIS COMING CHRISTMAS EVE
SO LONG GOD BLES AND I WISH YOU ALL A VERY,MERRY BLESSED
CHRISTMAS.
Dogging the Walk
by Odin Roark
Yes
Like so many things
Humans got that wrong too
Check it out
To walk a dog
Suggests
A tether with a human first
Dog second
Like walking a kid
Or grandma
Or pouting mate
All have tethers (gender be damned)
A connection putting the walker
Up front
Leading the walked behind
Occasionally loping to the side
Depending on sobriety or age
Now as to dogs
The walker’s tether extends
Forward
Pulling
Jerking
At times
Jettisoning not the walked
But the walker
So next time
Get it right
Say it accurate
Walking the dog
Wrong
Dogging the walk
Right
Earth to Mars
This is the Tolbert Report
Signing off for today
More of earth’s backward living tomorrow…
Assuming they survive
I can write you a poem
Filled with words
Words that can make you laugh
Words that can make you cry
Words that can fill you up with eternal joy
Words that can carry you through the day
But today I choose to write you a poem filled with a lifetime of wisdom.
Words not just for today
But for everyday
Quotes of great wisdom
Life is about living
Tomorrow will take care of itself.
Keep your eye on the Lord
Guard your heart
And everything will be all right.
Mothers are to be treasured
Children are to be enjoyed.
Trials are to be conquered
And family are precious.
Words are like a weapon
If used in the wrong contexts.
Men are like the weather
They are forever changing their minds.
Friends are like diamonds
Rare and hard to find
So hold onto those you got.
Politian’s are greedy
And seek after they own.
Funerals are like a gathering
It brings people together.
A lustful man looks after himself
And divides families apart.
Single women are strong
And look out for all.
Death is only another reason
To cop out on life
So live each day as though it’s your last.
A fool avoids wisdom
And steps into the unknown.
Be alert at all times
Keep your friends close
Your enemy’s closer
Your family happy
And your eyes open.
Only a fool will say
My family I trust with my life
My friends are my brothers
Don’t you know that man can trust no one
But God for in man we bust but in Christ we can trust.
Heaven waits for all
But only a few get in.
Love is God
God is Love
But man disappoints.
Lies are like a garden full of thorns
There is no way out.
Woman who steal from others
Will only discover that there rob no one but themselves.
A cheating husband
Is like a leopard
That can’t change his spots
His ways are cunning
And he deceives no one but himself.
Living with another woman’s husband
Is like living with a snake
Forever dogging bullets
And never knowing when
You are going to be sting.
A guilty person
Always wear a smile.
Never trust a man
Who abandons his family
For he is worse than infidel
That has no soul.
The morning sun’s oppressive; a nasty b*tch in heat on Rizal Avenue,
Where vendors hawk their cigarettes, baloot, and dog meat barbecue.
The jeepneys buzz the intersection like a hornet’s nest,
But it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
Olongapo is waking. Magsaysay Drive gives up its dreams.
It’s six AM in Subic Bay, Republic of the Philippines.
A sailor slouches back to base, hung over and depressed,
But it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
His head is stuffed with sawdust. His mouth’s as dry as peanut shells.
Last night he guzzled mojo on top of all those San Miguels.
At midnight he responded to the curfew’s harsh request,
But it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
Been a year since he’s been stateside, a year since he’s been home.
Just another duty station, and another port to roam.
When he hears a stand-up comic, he reacts indifferently;
He lost his sense of humor on the South China Sea.
He’d picked a girl named Cora, and booked an air-conditioned room.
He’d paid her fifty pesos to revel in her raw perfume.
He spoke a few Tagalog words, but she was not impressed,
And it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
He held her like he knew her; embraced her warm skin tenderly.
His dreams were of Missouri; his nightmares, of the open sea.
He’d found a lonely refuge with his hand upon her breast,
And it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
A new day brings its promise of beauty and of poverty;
Of cockfights in the province, and monkeys in the mango tree,
But Subic is a working port, and work must be addressed.
Still, it’s quiet down the mountain once the stone has come to rest.
Been a year since she divorced him; a year since she’s been gone,
Just another disappointment, and another West Pac dawn.
If he laughs, it’s nothing funny; it’s the sound of irony.
He lost his sense of humor on the South China Sea.
And that chip upon his shoulder’s like that ancient, fabled boulder;
He’s a victim of his own mythology.