Best Leashes Poems
I just found out two poodles that I bought
were ferrets! Ay caramba! And guess what?
To make each one resemble less a rat,
they gave them steroids, making them both fat!
They also fluffed their pretty fur just so
around their heads. So how was I to know?
Each one looked so much like a toy poodle
they had me fooled - whole kit and caboodle!
Our veterinarian has verified
the facts for me. Those poodle dealers lied.
And folks now say I should have realized
the truth, which stared at me with beady eyes!
Those ferrets sure run fast; I think I’ll buy
two tiny leashes, or else I could try. . .
to sucker someone stupider than me.
Hey, buy one poodle; get the other free!
For Janice Canerdy's Rhyming Couplets Poetry Contest
* I wrote this April 22, 2013 after hearing a news story about a guy who actually believed he had bought a poodle when it was a ferret on steroids! See above for the link to the news footage!
The sun hung low in the sky
And the light was beginning to fade
Maggie the Schnoodle and Jack the Retriever
Stood before me
Tails wagging
Noses pointing to leashes
Looking expectantly
Tapping their toe/paw
Checking the clock
Clearly reminding me
It was now time for their daily walk.
Okay, I promised. We'll go after I do just one more thing.
I’ll just check my email, oh and just search Google on that one thing I heard about...
Oh look there, well I wonder if anyone’s done any research on that, let’s see...
Well, hmmm, are there any blogs with opinions on the matter, let’s see…
Ah ha! I must bookmark this page and come back to it,
For I must take the dogs out before it gets dar………………k?
How can it be? Where did the sun go?
Why, only a moment ago there was plenty of light.
Alright Jack, let's go Maggie …how 'bout a walk by the light of the moon?
Inspired by Laura McKenzi's "Beyond (an un-named time that follows day)fall" contest.
Magnolia and pink mimosa
garden path with swollen dirt
from pop-up storms.
Cloud cover’s pleasant,
slightly sultry.
I, the adult,
adjure my joints to sport.
Delight of finger flowers,
red trumpet bling,
along the meander
of old man creek.
Kids of Summer,
dip thigh-deep,
‘neath the wooden bridge.
Swings seizing the edge,
slides a-whiz,
rainbow puddles.
Pleasantries exchanged
between adults
with perceptive eyes
and wry smiles.
Unleashed from indoors,
pups pull on their leashes
desperate to be kids.
6/28/2021
I leave the door open
to the glass pane storm door
so the cat can see…
see the squirrels
see the rabbits
see the cats
see the chipmunks
see the birds
see the dogs on leashes
see the possums at night
see the birds of prey hovering above
see the leaves as they fall
see the weeds as they grow
see the wind blow in its majesty
I leave the door open
to the glass pane storm door
so the cat can see…
Or is it really just for…
me to see the cat enjoying life?
Lacovia road
Here once the bambo trees
Dance like native girls
In native half-nakednesss
And farmers trudge a way
Not so long nor forbidding now
Along the banks where lizards lazed
A scampering of children
And trees are with sturdier concrete replaced.
The slant of rain obscures the dry of sun.
Lacovia road
I cannot tell which house you use to live
My old landmark
Of public standpipe is gone
And perhaps lovers
Meet in virtual space of idleness
Instead of where the gossip flowed
And fill the empty lives
With long leashes of control
Dripping from tireless tongues.
Lacovia road
And a fluttering dust of memory
Like paper littering the school yard
New mansions are strewn among the grass
Old cottages gone
Gone too the wattle and daub familiarity
Where we huddled out of the rain
And shared bammy and avocado
And old stories of Kujo crawling through the sugarcane
Among the crocodiles and in their skin
And the British fright to see the thing
Up like rabbit running for more than life
Lacovia road
And the big river still brims below
The old capital
Rearing for recognition without the mango trees
And shrimp sellers at the side of road
Without women burdened with cassava load
I long to smell the fry fish still
These stable buttress of the old economy
Replaced by the late coming
And harsh selection of a spindly modernity
Juxtaposed against a vast and ancient history
Of moments eternal.
When I was just seven, so small
My best friend Jacob, outdid us all
He had a pet Cobra, cool as could be
He forgot to feed it for a whole week you see
So I killed him
When I was fourteen, I went to the zoo
So many animals, all lounging around
Some seemed starved and some seemed week
One poor zebra died right on its feet
So I killed a Zookeeper
When I was twenty one I met a young blonde
We dated and loved and times where great
Her pet Collie so youthful with such playful traits
She left him in the car, the heat at one hundred and eight
So I killed my girlfriend
I am older now, a full mature twenty eight
My neighbor Miss Jennings has a cat we call him Mate
He loves all the felines all over the town
Till Miss Jennings had him neutered the Mate is down
So I killed Miss Jennings
Now I am thirty five and working so hard
At the animal shelter as the night guard
They bring in the wounded, the week and defenseless
All these humans who treat pets with out any senses
So I killed few strangers who mistreated pets
I am forty-two and work for the park
Where they come every day walking their pets after dark
In leashes so tight and bound round the neck
How is the good? Oh what the heck
So I killed all of them too
Now I am forty nine and in county jail
For some serial crimes they accuse me of committing
All I did was love animals, who are they kidding?
I am the hero in this story you all must see?
So I escaped and killed the jailor and now I am free
I have read the local papers; I am on the front page
They want to put me in a prison cage
Oh and there is PETA, who claim me as Saint
I am so proud why I might almost faint
But I kill myself as my final act
To be with the animals I loved till the last
There is a quest
A guess about time
A place to be
With me
If you would
Perhaps
In a dale or in the wood
Upon the glade
Perchance you would speak
To me
For you see I am alone
At the end of the pier
Watching the sun
Setting upon the sea
Leashes pull
And dogs tug
Little girls running
Jumping
Enjoying the merry game
They call out to the gulls
Swooping and dipping
Squawking out our names
Yet, we do no speak
With your iPhone
No one cares
Only you do
Speak to me
Speak
Batteries Not Included
They sit – idle memories – languishing
crusted filth - a city’s weeping gutters.
Detritus of fast food disposal clings
to scentless bloodied thorns of tear soaked rose,
future maple trees sailing sewer bound,
adrift on a city’s polluted dreams.
Yellow lights a-swirl on oil slickened streets
highlight a scrawny stalking alley cat
sad mime back arched on a red brick facade.
Cold shush of tires on icy pavement
hissing at the joy of dancing snowflakes,
chilled chatter of recycling’s shopping carts.
Barrier reefs of soft restaurant lights
deflect the silent hardness of the night.
Wet dogs shiver in the blue cell phone light,
taut leashes battling absent owners
check for “Pee-mail” on “Face Book” fire hydrants.
Puddles torment the feet of passersby,
tempting the feet of children and adults
dampening the spirits of the homeless.
Gutters, siphoning off a city’s soul,
seeking salvation from a moonless night
in search of a coldly distant sunrise.
12/27/2016
submitted to – Form – B – Poetry Contest
~There Was a Time~
There was a time when I would look
out over the azure glory of a Michigan lake,
or tear up from the umber-brown beauty
of Grand Canyon in the Arizona sun.
There was a time when I smelled
the fragrance of fresh baked bread
when east winds blessed us with the aroma
from our neighborhood bakery.
There was a time when I could hear
Elvis singing on my neighbor’s hi-fi
without the head shaking sound
of a wooferized bass.
There was a time when I hopped
aboard moving freight trains
or climbed the tallest water towers,
indifferent to the loss of life and limb.
There was a time when Doug and I slinked
through harvesting backyards
pilfering grapes and teasing dogs,
ever mindful of how long the leashes were.
There was a time when I could eat
a box of Girl Scout cookies
as I watched ‘Cavalcade of Sports’
and never gain a pound.
And there was a time when I never felt
the cold as I scurried up and down
the sledding hill at Bancroft Park
with my Flexible Flyer proudly in hand.
The air was crisp, the trees were bare;
The paths were shoveled clean.
In Central Park today it was
Delightful and serene.
A lonely jogger trotted by;
A nanny pushed her charge.
Some dogs on leashes sniffed and strained;
The cloud-filled sky loomed large.
But mostly it was only me
A'stroll across the park,
Enveloped by the vista
Which was anything but stark.
Walk along the river bank, lined with poplar trees,
Listen to the birds that sing their sweet melodies,
Mothers pushing strollers pause, to the humming bees,
A juggler keeps balls aloft, while on bended knees,
On the pond, pompous swans gracefully glide with ease,
Men in caps, meet on benches, enjoying coffees,
Children feed corn to hungry ducks, with quacking pleas,
Couples stroll the promenade, smiling in the breeze,
Picnickers open baskets of fruit, wine and cheese,
Playful dogs off leashes, catching flying frisbees,
Joggers pound the pavement, in shorts and sporty tees,
A beautiful day, to bask in eighty degrees.
January 15, 2017 Monorhyme for contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
LBI, Drifting Sands
Good Morning, Spring. I know you’re awake. I see your color rising with the sun.
Through the open balcony door of our third floor suite, the sea breeze coolly streams into our room as the sunlight pulls time over the warming golden bed sheets.
My love so quietly sleeps, still to hear every breath of the ocean synchronized with the rising and falling of her breast.
Narrowly framed between the doorpost and half opened drapes, the sea stretches a blue-green carpet from the sands to the edge of the Earth. Porpoises dance briefly on its surface and dive beneath its nape.
Sitting comfortably, pen in hand, my eyes capture a picture, the subject of which has been painted in the hearts of everyone finding peace on the edges of the oceans. Sea grass is bending with the breeze, pelted lightly with drifting sands.
Now, it’s time for hot coffee and warm pastry on the balcony by the sea.
Below us across the wide dunes and sun bright sands, a few scattered walkers drag their owners by their leashes near the lapping waves. The stiff wind off the early Spring waves feels chilly, even through their jackets and hats.
As Earth bows in reverence toward her perfect partner, something, someone awakens within me with the warming of the Spring sun. Like sap pumping slowly upward to engorge the budding leaves and reddening flowers of my mind and spirit. Is this dis-order: to be attuned to the rhythm and flow of Mother Earth?
In orbit: that perfect balance of attractions. An effortless flow wherein the music of influence plays in symphonic perturbations. Mother Earth sings her harmonies to Father Sun’s melodies as she twirls in the softening groove of her recorded destiny.
As a flower opens to the Sun, when Spring awakens, so do I, picking back up the verse of my souls praises of the Sun.
Good night sea. Pleasant dreams. Pull the moon’s light gently to your chin, a glowing silver blanket shimmering on your skin.
Comfort me through the night. Come to me through my open door and whisper sweet dreams in my ear. I’ll rise again like the sun to warm you and praise the gifts of your bounteous life.
"Golden Gift"
sweet life as a golden retriever
a good therapy dog, stress reliever
changing lives I am called Venus de Milo
wagging my tail I shout a huge "hello".
after duties are done I speed round the yard
barking so softly while still standing guard
my friends, Thor and Thunder, are gentlemanly "Danes"
treating me like a lady while we play doggie games.
at dinner, my mistress, allows me to share
canine chow with "the guys" a midnight blue pair
we dash for the leashes for a walk in the park
enjoy greeting people till long after dark.
soon bedtime arrives and my friends paw "bye-bye"
I trot to my blanket in a basket nearby
howl goodnight to the Moon as I nod off to rest
tomorrow duty calls and I must look my best!
*For Doggone Tales Contest
*June 22, 2012
You want to know about it
The bad memories, the pain
Ok just wait for a bit
Ill have to jig it out my brain
It happened in the middle of May
Glen my friend was off to Spain
I remember it was a sunny day
A few months before I dated his sister Jane
“Come around please, pet sit”
“Jane and I will be gone five days”
“It will be only for a little stint”
“The dogs just eat and want to laze”
So off I go up the hill, House No 7
A beautiful mansion, the best on the road
You could almost feel as if you were in heaven
With a gate that had a 6 digit code
An eloquent man answered the door
Handed me the leashes and said he’d be back a five
“Don’t surprise them” and he said no more
I heard the car as it left the drive
Sniff, Sniff, then, it happened
A huge black object almost snapped off my nose
I caught the rottweiler by the skin of it neck
The chiwawa was dangling from my nuts and my hose
I screamed colourful words but for you I’ll use “What the heck”
I could not let go as I kick the rottweiler in the nuts
It squealed, then growled it went wild
I punched it as hard as I could right in the guts
Then I ran upstairs with a chiwawa hanging screaming like a child
I dove through the upstairs window to the grass
With a chiwawa squeezing my bits
But this time with a rottweiler attached to my ****.
The rottweiler landed first with me on top as we hit
I suffered a broken collar bone, a leg and an arm
The rottweiler was out but the chiwawa was hanging on
I didn’t think the chiwawa would cause so much harm
Till I ripped it from my loins and with my good arm threw it far and long
I fell on the ground in pain, I thought this was the end
And as if a miracle an angel stood sent from heaven
It was the familiar face of Glen my trusty friend
He said what you doing at no7 we waiting at no 11.
S ensuality exudes from within
U nlacing passion with show of soft skin
L uxurious curves of breast and of hips
T aste of paradise awaits on her lips
R avshing dreams, become real in her arms
Y ou cannot resist, her womanly charms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
S izzles with heat with each step that she takes
U leashes passion in moves that she makes
L ures you to come and burn in her fire
T empts with her eyes that speak of desire
R eleases pleasure in wave upon wave
Y ou can’t keep away, you’re her willing slave
ONE OR TWO? IT'S ALL UP TO YOU.... :) Love this word....
Eileen Manassian Ghali