Best Pooches Poems
The hounds hungered but the queen wanted to bed
So she told the kind “the dogs need be fed!”
Rather than attending to this business
The king was caught with a mistress!
So the queen yelled “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
The jester soon entered (who had witnessed the smooches)
and said "such strange hairy lady! How she shuffles and scooches!
If I were to critique
with that grotesque physique
The king must have mistook her for one of the pooches!”
Fido was a bull dog
Who had a reputation
For being mean and macho
And met with expectation.
He had a spiky collar
He always wore with pride,
And every time he passed a cat
It ran away to hide.
Known by local canines
As neighbourhood top dog,
While other pooches fetched their sticks
Fido fetched a log.
Then one fateful morning
They took him to the vet.
Now Fido has a softer bark
And is quite a placid pet.
My house was made
for a family of three
So it turns out to be
two little doggies and me
When I shop at the grocery store
in my mind I can't ignore
Will the pooches like this too
It's something that I often do
Water bowls here and there
milkbones buried under chairs
The couch I cannot recline
because a doggy bed you'll find
Toys toys chewed and new
overflow the house and in shoes
Please do not sneeze
or dog hairs dance and tease
Two little doggies wagging tails
run about for doggy thrills
Yap and bark growl and fight
and that's just the start of night
When I lay down to sleep
I force my form to be more petite
For laying long across the bed
two little doggies from toe to head.
For four years I've longed to shout 'Adios!'
It's time for you to go, Donald J. Gross
Shove those burgers down, Chubs
Play with your balls and clubs
You're crude, belligerent and bellicose
Anderson called you an obese turtle
Who'd never admit you need a girdle
Your offspring are all jerks
In the west wing they lurk
Too bad your little swimmers were fertile
Eighteen thousand a month for orange hair!
While poor Americans have nothing to spare
You never gave a damn
Leave the White House...SCRAM
Get your butt off the oval office chair
A greedy, selfish beast, to say the least
Playing footsie with those in the mideast
Buddies with Kim Jong
That's all kinds of wrong
And your affair with Putin is a love feast
Questions asked of you...falsehoods you answer
You're not a hoofer, like Santa's Prancer
I hate your red ties
And your horrid lies
Here's a truth...you're a terrible dancer!
Your claim to fame? A one-term president
Mock the Constitution; a dissident
So many are inspired
To yell out, "You're fired!"
No covid warning? What selfish intent!
What a chaotic mess you leave in your wake
Those who praise you have made a big mistake
Our Democracy, you scorn
But you jape about p o r n
You've been a bogus President...a fake!
We the people, hate how you whine and pout
and the way your mouth pooches like a trout
A lunatic POTUS
Be gone with the FLOTUS
Americans have signaled that you've struck out
Brutus, my slavering Rottweiler, growls
He knows he's tougher than pooches with tails
The long pointed studs on his black leather collar
Are matched by his canines which make poodles holler
The drooling saliva that trails from his jaws
As he lumbers about on his four massive paws
Is soaking the ground and his talon like claws
Encouraging folk to keep children indoors
Devil Dog, Satan’s mutt, hellhound and more
All labels my beast has been nick-named before
I feed him on red meat and shin bones of cattle
It’s said he eats tigers but that’s tittle tattle
The park is all ours because other folk run
But wait, there’s a kitten, now this could be fun
Brutus will rip him apart for a lark
And splatter its blood and guts over the park
Hey, kitty kitty, come over to me
Play with my dog, what good friends you could be
But kitten was clever, too clever for me
He hissed and now Brutus is stuck up a tree
70 Years Ago
Riding through the flat ancient agricultural between
two the soft modulation of a stone less mountains
this place has every could green from the dark olive
to shimmering bushes so delicate it looks like air
temporarily has taken a green plant´s form?
Something is missing though an animal that brought
us humans up the ladder of civilisation: the donkey.
Look into its eyes; know the final chapter is missing.
Those beautiful eyes so full of sweet melancholy
A resignation of the cruelty of life after serving man
It ended up as dog food for spoilt pooches that are
so totally enslaved by us that they could not survive
in nature´s hard selection. Is that why we have wars
to separate the wheat from the chaff?
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
It was old fashioned shopping,....floors were warm planks of wood
Where footsteps sounded hallow, and the walls were lined with goods
A “5 and 10” cent heaven, … was the friendly Woolworth's Store
One would always be surprised, what revolved behind that door
How quickly flew the hours of a summer afternoon,
to fritter through the clutter, that lay in waiting there
Time would disappear upon a dime, with a sweeping of the eyes
like the feather dusting of the racks on the shelves of all the years
One could hear the clink of metal that nourished the till
Where children holding a mother’s hand, could be rewarded for keeping still
Little hands, restrained, would tire, leaning over a heart’s desire
While a mother would conspire with the clerk of the day
For there a child would stand in mute dismay,
An indecisive millionaire, a fight of tooth and nail despair
With fifty ways they might disburse two whole nickels in a purse
A bit of this and a bit that, a stack of crayons, a pair of socks,
Some satin ribbons, a new array of small barrettes, to dress the locks
Cases of candy, a licorice whip, eyes embracing one after another…
Laces or vases, sissors or needles, color climbing color
The stacked up bolts of ginghams, worsteds, chintz and serges
Trays of trinkets, and souveniers, ‘Evening in Paris’, the bottle was gorgeous
All of these things, under a dollar, even a collar for all the pooches
To know how it was to sit on a stool, after school
Order a sandwich, and sip sodas, always cool and sublime
This was how Woolworth’s….a store of the past
Would build a memory to last and last…..,
Forever in time, for a nickel or a dime...
....how much more could one girl find, and how much could one child ask?
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Skat's Premiere Contest: #13
Man, it’s been four long dog years!
Forlorn doggone tears
of toil
and trouble
It’s a flee collar fact,
this feels like forty years
of Sirius jaw smack:
Loss leader of the pack
has got a Cujo shifty,
barf shuffle
Spit pissing
constant doggie poo
puff bubbles
It’s bad to the bone,
contentious err
Listening to those vulgar [s]wag tales,
has pup aged
my schnauzer soul ten-fold
That’s howl long it’s been,
four dog-eared years!
All of them dog whistle tweets,
mutter sounds belch indiscreet
Vomit noise spilt in the streets,
by deputy dawgs on gag delete:
A Pluto soundbyte loop repeat
Those pilfer pooches
was gon be
the Scooby-Doo death of me
But I didn’t wanna wait-see
Woe, man! It’s been four long dog years,
of carny bark
not subtle
Every wrinkled nose ballot spoke,
grey stubble
Too many me
were simply dog tired
Of seeing Lady Tramp Liberty
lip muffled
Her trashed democracy hope
getting Lassie tear-tossed
in the rubble
I truly dream-fear
those rabid dog years
(four centuries of snarl jeers)
will runt-of-the-litter reappear
11-30-20
at doggy day-care
pet pooches get so pampered …
time for walkies boys!
11-20-17
To define the word 'exuberance'
One need not go to the Net
Watch two puppies meet on the street
That's happy as happiness gets
It's real 'exuberance' personified
As they tug away on the leash
Both tails wagging a mile a minute
A couple of ecstatic beasts
What if we allowed 'em both to go at it
Exploring until they dropped
They'd surely be two happy pooches
Till in their dog house they flopped
We could learn a lesson from these little guys
Begin each day with a smile
Cram in as much fun as you possibly can
Never know if it's your very last mile
© Jack Ellison 2014
The Heinz dog and the Silky and that Precious Papillion,
A Terrier and Chihauhau-are a few that I have known.
Not all at once, of course, but a few throughout the years,
They delegate their tails to tell-and this 'person' volunteers.
SL Jackson knows that there are things that dogs can't really do,
"They cannot make a sandwich, wipe their butt, or talk to you."
So, as their 'person' speaking here, for pooches big and small,
We're charged to love our faulty dogs, and love them one and all.
You had to love that Heinz dog found sitting at my door,
Should I call the local shelter, and keep him here no more?
Should I keep him in the family safe, and pay his every bill?
The people who love dogs relate...they know he stayed until!
One might even love that Silky from that posh exclusive store,
He proved that he was stunted..NO Pet Stores! No, no more.
He disappeared one evening in his backyard...it was dark.
Found him hiding in our shed next day-too weird to even bark.
The Papillion was precious. But her mental state..not there,
She'd been caged and used for breeding. Her existance wasn't fair.
She'd never been a fun-filled dog from the time she was a pup.
The breeder didn't love her and...she'd simply used her up.
Our Terrier was helpless, when it thundered she would hide,
She broke away into a moving car. It hit her and she died.
It wasn't beauty killed the beast as we all have heard that story,
It was fear of thunder took our pup, and sent her on to glory.
And now comes that Chihauhau, with legs up to her ears.
She is that other 'heartbeat' in a lonely lady's years.
She is another rescue, and yes, a lapdog tried and true,
Forever home and doing, what lapdogs love to do
Canine person all believe that their pets are special creatures,
And endowed with certain wisdom that far exceed their features.
I'll save those claims for other times..there is a tail that's wagging,
Wait! I didn't make that sandwich. Dare I think my dog is bragging?
With a title like that I’d bet,
I got your attention and yet,
if, unlike you,
I sniff some poo
please haul me off to the vet
Lonely lovers lay
Prone pondering the pages
Of others offerings
While wealthy women
Cashing company cheques
Purchase those priceless pooches
All the while, angry adolesents
Sewing sad smiles
Filling furrowed frowns
Beauty borrowed, now broken
On swiftly shifting sands
On the surface the town appears
Like any town, perhaps your own;
It has its share of low-cost homes
Segregated from the splendid
Houses by an invisible
Well defined demarcation line.
The inferior homeowners
Dine out when they can afford to
At fast food places like Wendy’s;
Whereas the well-to-do- frequent
Eateries with French sounding names;
You can distinguish these people
From the rest of us by their dogs:
They’re the prissy pooches with bows.
Bless me with enough smooches,
That I may confess the blunt honesty of thy will.
Bless my heart with painting in thy words,
To such extent you know my testimony is your grace.
Enough is the triggering pooches,
It keeps me standing still.
Enough are the beautiful looking bird,
That keeps my eyes wandering in space.
Let the armor you are reflect in me;
No doubt, it will supply me enough glamour.
Without thy breathes inking words, will my heart ever be?
Healing power is thy beauty; my prowess rammer.
The way you seek,
Is in me bleeding...
It's your choice to make it strong or weak.
Passing through it at will, shall keeps it breeding...