Best In The Doghouse Poems


Premium Member WE LL RIDE A HORSE DOWN ROCKY PATH

We’ll Ride a Horse Down Rocky Path

We’ll ride a horse down rocky path
Fall in love in the aftermath
Well do-si-do and do it right
Me and honey can dance all night

Roll away to a half sashay
‘neath the moon’s where we’re apt to stay
We promenade around fig leaves
with rolled up jeans and shorter sleeves

Hanging out in the doghouse tree
I circle left and she don’t leave me
Promenade with a giddyup
Be home in time for kiss-make-up.

Allemande left as we make things right.
all things beautiful, all things bright.
Weave the ring, a forever link
All ‘lone till life turns blue and pink

I'M In the Doghouse Now

I’m in the doghouse now 
I’m out singing with the cows 
Well I made my baby mad 
And I’m feeling rather sad 
I’m in the doghouse now 

I’m in the doghouse now 
I’m in trouble and how
I went out on the town 
And I acted like a clown 
I’m in the doghouse now.

I’m in the doghouse now 
She’s gonna put me to the plow
Well I was feeling pretty swell
Till they threw me in the jail
I’m in the doghouse now. 

I’m in the doghouse now 
I’m out singing with the cows 
Well I made my baby mad 
And I’m feeling rather sad 
I’m in the doghouse now

The Doghouse

Upon this floor I sit, 
huggin' the porcelain bowl;
My stomach's tied in knots, 
Feels like I'm gonna blow!

I should'a used my head,
why didn't I ever think?
Instead I hung around, 
to have another drink!

One led to another,
another led to more;
Next thing y'know 
I was drownin' on the floor!

My buddy was a savior, 
he drove me to my home;
Pickled down in agony, 
I find myself alone!

My mouth's a watery mess, 
the bathroom's in a spin;
Sweat pours from my brow,
right to my pointy chin!

Dear God, can you help me?!
I was such a fool;
Can you pull me through this? 
please tell me what to do!

For some apparent reason, 
God fails to show;
Now I'm on my own,
just thought I let you know!

Uh oh!!...Here it comes!!
Damn, that really hurt!!
I missed the bowl completely,
an' it's rollin' down my shirt!!

My head's all awhirl,
I'm passed out on my back;
What started out as dim,
is now completely black!

I wake up in the morning, 
in a cramped lil' space;
Something wet and slobbery
just swept across my face!

Boy, don't I feel stupid, 
like a caged lil' mouse;
Someone dragged me from our bathroom
and shoved me in the doghouse!!


Doberman Pinscher

Hey buddy, this pooch has got a bone to pick with you -
You’re in the doghouse and we need to talk this through.
So prick up your ears and hear me through to the end -
This language barrier needs some serious work, my friend!
You wonder why I sulk and have no time for tricks -
Well would you want to party if you’d had your manhood fixed?!
And then you tug my lead when I’m positioned by a tree-
Say, do I bring a stop watch every time you need a wee?
I bring your paper daily, wag my tail with affection
But do you thank me? No, you just rush to the sports section.
I don’t mean to hound you because I’m your biggest fan
But please don't take for granted your most faithful Doberman x








30/07/18

link 2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O83lmO1lNDc

Doberman Pinscher Contest:

I Am the Project Air Bridge

I am the Project Air Bridge, 
The veritable virus lord-cum-felon of duty fraud.
Fumaye's privileged his bridge that projects pompous airs.
Maelstrom, mammon coextend where it forks and fares.
Transpontine ambulances shriek, hearses creak;
Cispontine pandemia profiteerings peak. 
Lip service put onto pushy pumper,
Juggling jobbery jarred into cushy number. 

       
        I am the Project Air Bridge, 
A villainous virus lord-cum-gubernatorial wailing ward.
I have federal flag foil my neckties,
Have federal fiefdom at my behest.
At home seizing states' supplies,
In style feathering my own nest.
Grave grin toward myriad plunders amassing in size;
Frivolous glee unto stricken states moaning distressed.


        I am the Project Air Bridge, 
A versatile virus lord-cum-omnivore slyly adaptive-jawed. 
All foreign aids I indiscriminately swipe and sweep,
Compatriots in need, meticulously sift and bleep.
Cronies and bogeys bogart the most and the best;
Those in the doghouse, let viruses lay them all to rest.
My wheeling and dealing can always pay off,
Just owing so much to so many I always play off.


        I am the Project Air Bridge, 
A heinous virus lord-cum-Old Nick's Regalement Board.

Blanketed by bereavement are betrayed people,
Their wounds bleeding undressed.
Butchered for banquet, the Bald Eagle,
My plates attending undressed.

Muddy mug shades dirty cook;
Murphy's mug shakes leprous wine.
Worse stinks history's mug book, 
Ever since its accession of mine.

Silver spoon feeds up mouth; siren's spoon feels up lips. 
Sicking up are malapropism and spoonerism of freudian slips:
Feasting my eyes on boons cross air bridge,
No blink for victimized crossbones' bare ridge.

        This is me, the Project Air Bridge, 
The very virus lord-cum-Juggernaut Accelerator of boons-for-bones baud.

Premium Member The House

The house,                                                                    sailing on the boathouse,                                                trains are in the roundhouse,                                        I served jury duty in the courthouse.                                I played with dolls in the dollhouse,                                  my husband is in the doghouse,                                                          I never want to visit the jailhouse,                                    flowers filled the greenhouse.


Date Written:6/17/2021

Note: It has been a very, very long day/week and it shows 
here. 

Laugh a little.........

3 Place 

Workshop: Adjectives Deleted Contest Judged  7/11/2021                
Sponsored by: Jack Webster


Premium Member Dog

Dog

I once had a fluffy white dog take my hand
He was born a Maltese and was very well cared for
He was my every world, my one and only, all over this land
When I’d come home he would greet me at the door

The exchanges of happiness would touch my heart
He would twirl and dance at my feet, nipping at my dress
Meanwhile, my couched husband is doing his part
Watching his sports, drinking beers, and being a mess

My little one would follow me to the end of the Earth
He would follow me all over the house as he loves me
The times  I do take him for a walk, I have self-worth
Everything about him is real and loyal, I love to see 

Many a candlelight dinners it would be just me and him
He would get his bowl of treats and there be a bone
Together our eyes dance, and I'd hear his imaginary voice hymn 
Without his companionship, I would be so alone 

Meanwhile, my husband is doing his part nipping at his beers
You would think that my little one acts the part of a spouse
At night he would jump onto my bed, cuddling my tears
The man that I married, sigh, is forever in the doghouse

2/6/23

Writing Challenge - D Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Constance La France
2nd

A Spoonful of Snow

We scratched and scrapped and piled it together,
thin as cobwebs, like molted bird feathers,
spread out on the frozen lawn,
a gossamer frosting in early dawn,
a meager, stingy December snow,
hardly enough to foster a glow
from the Christmas lights candycane twirled
about the evergreen swags softly whirled.

A new sled from Santa's gift giving
was mine to enhance childhood living!
Why he did not provide the blizzard--
(He could have called on the North Pole snow wizard!)
we just did not know,
but to work we would go
and make a snow ramp out in the yard
about as thick as a worn playing card.

The rest of the story is not hard to guess;
my dad's in the doghouse, my mom in distress.
That snow ramp was built quite poorly it seems,
engineered from child wishes and misguided dad dreams,
and though for a moment, I thought I would fly,
at least, sitting here, I still have an eye.

Copyright, December 5, 2017
Christmas Rhymes Contest
Kim Rodrigues, Sponsor

The Doggone Dog Contest

Our War Dogs are heroes but they're treated so bad
They're "in the doghouse" which really is sad.

The unequaled loyalty which they provide
When their handlers are wounded, they stay by their side.

The Pentagon awards medals for our wounded vets
For which there are no objections, complaints, or regrets.

But what about “Fido”, has he not earned respect?
To give Him a medal - why do you guys object?

The U.S. War Dog Association should hang it's head
cause these dogs get wounded and also get dead!

Maybe some of it's members should take the dogs place
for just a few days - could they stand the pace?

Sure these are “just” dogs, but their life’s on the line.
They’re there to help protect your freedom and mine.

They say “Official Awards” only humans can win.
Are War Dogs “Unofficial”?  If so it’s a sin!

They’re in a War Zone doing all they can do
So they should be able to earn medals too.

So “ Pentagon People” this case is open and shut
You’ll see it too, when you get your head out of your butt!

Men Can Be Trained Just Like Puppies

Men and puppies are the same
Training them is just a game
Of a lot of patience and
A gentle firm living hand
Teaching them what's right and wrong
But training can be very long
If they're stubborn and wont do
What you are telling them to
Smacking puppies on the nose
With a rolled up paper shows
Something wrong they are doing
On a rug peeing and pooing
Is not where it needs to be
It's more fun on a big tree
It's the same thing with your guy
No matter how much they try
To aim inside and not out
When they pee its like a spout
Making a mess everywhere
They're punishment can be severe
Puppies like to destroy things
Enjoyment it always brings
When they find a brand new shoe
On it they will chew and chew
So you say bad dog--they cower
Knowing you have all the power
When a man makes a big mess
Your patience is put to the test
Making them clean up they will
Be in the doghouse up until
They learn to be a lot neater
Making your life so much sweeter
Puppies like to run and jump
On top of you--sometimes they hump
Your leg and those of your friends
Push them off, it has to end
Like when a guy is all excited
His fire is soon ignited
And just attacks from behind
It is not polite or kind
So you push away your lovin'
Till they learn not be be jumpin'
It might take a ling long while
To reverse this wild style
That both men and puppies share
But with just a little care
You can turn them both around
With some tricks that you have found
Treating them when they're behaving
With some yummies they are craving
Or getting a little rough
When they're bad--showing tough love
Never knowing how they'll be 
Full of fun or misery
Just take it simple and slow
And improvement will soon show

Even Black Hearts Hurt

I'm sorry, I know i was wrong.
I am sure you  heard others sing the same song.

I was wrong you are right,
I miss you, i don't want to fight.

My heart is hurting and  broke.
I miss the last time we spoke.

You mean everything to me.
You are there in every picture I see.

Your voice is in all the words I hear.
And my eyes? They are broken, all cried out, nothing left, not even one tear.

I said forever, and I mean it still
please just take me back, if you will.

My heart ache, i feel like it is sore about to fall out of my chest.
My mind is all about you, racing 1k miles an hour and i don't want it to rest.

You are special to me, my sunshine on a cloudy day,
you always know how to cheer me up, you always know what to say.

Your words crush me and raise me up,
i know i should be put in the doghouse, i was a bad pup.

I am the one that messed everything up, it was my lies and my mistake,
i don't blame you for being mad on that i do not debate i am a fruad and a fake.

I am mighty, I am a King, I am royality, but unto you, I submit.
I miss you, your cold shoulder hurts, I think i got frostbit.

I await on you, I will wait. Like a good lil boy I'll sit.
I'll always try to get you back. I won't quit.

Premium Member Oh, She's Mad

Her husband in the doghouse, he called her by the wrong name during sex.


Date written and posted: 12/15/2018

Brown Dog

He’s a brown dog conditioned
in chains.
He lives with a castrated desire. 

His urges are groomed. To be
gentle, he
must be docile. His fangs sink

into the flesh in a red China 
plate. He
sucks on a daydream. Fetters

are unfastened in the dark.
Yet he 
can’t chase that street . 

There’s an ID tag attached to 
his neck.
Sincerity is a strain. Even a 

Norway rat scratches his sleep. 
He can 
lunge, snarl, yap, and is proud

of his vigour. But all are transient
illusions. His
hind legs swell horribly. A vet 

diagnoses an incurable fate.
Heart-worms of 
despair spread in rapidly.

Master shuts gate on his face,
not paying
any gratuity. Wisdom eyes 

open in his sultry brain. 
Whining is 
in vain before iron bars. 

He deciphers nonsensical 
side of  
barking. Dropping past litter  

in the doghouse,  he limps
away through 
experience like an ascetic. 

First printed in The Literary Hatchet

Premium Member 'We Need To Talk'

I'm suddenly choking 
             On the disorienting fumes 
               Of unbearable suspense.
              Four words was all it took.               
             What does "We need to talk" 

                 Supposed to mean? 
                Oh, dear. I'm bracing...
             For a ravaging avalanche 
                  Of unsettling news 
                   To bury me whole.

              It's THAT bad, am I right?
      You guessed it, I do not feel good 
      About what you're about to tell me! 
              Not when you're wearing 
                  A concerning scowl.  

          What's on your mind, pray tell?
      Screw later, I'd prefer we talk, NOW.
        About what, though? One word...
       In that phrase, "need," engendered... 
      A paralysis of dread in me, you see.

                 Did someone we know 
          Get arrested and thrown in jail? 
         Is this some sort of twisted joke 
                   You're pulling on me?
       Does it mean I'm in the doghouse?

    Nope, I don't need to sit down for this.
               Why the prolonged wait?
               Come on, for God's sake,
                 Let me expel some air!
           Wait, this isn't a breakup, is it?


W T F Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John lawless
Date written: 05/29/2023

Don In the Doghouse

Don in the Doghouse

By Elton Camp

Don had a wife who was easily offended
If her wishes weren’t immediately tended

In the doghouse his time was mainly spent
Since out of shape his wife was often bent

Poor Don finally decided that he’d give in
And he built himself a doghouse in the den

He even bought a coat of white canine hair
To put on whenever he had to live in there

Bowls of dog food he decided that he’d eat
When it was his wife wasn’t acting sweet

Ultimately it became Don’s permanent bed
Because she came to detest everything he said
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.

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