Best Wags Poems
I’m on my way into the grocery store
when I see him huddled near the shop doorway
In his outstretched hand
an empty coffee cup
I throw in a coin or two
smile, and ask his name
I’m Jack ma’am’ he says politely; and this is Benji ...
it’s only then that I notice a small brown terrier
his black nose poking out
from underneath a stained sleeping bag
Benji leaps up and wags his tail excitedly
at the mention of his name
I stoop down and he nuzzles my hand
I’ve a lump in my throat as I tell Jack
Benji reminds me of my dog Sam
who I lost last summer
Oh, how I miss the comfort of my pet
Jack’s blue eyes fill with tears
it's then I discover
he’s been on the streets for a few months
Benji’s my only true friend, he says
He’s never let me down -
not like my folks back at home
I can see Benji is well cared for
the exact opposite of Jack
who looks like he’s not eaten a square meal in days
I rise to do my shopping
and pass them both on the way out
I drop a brown carrier bag into Jack’s lap
he opens it like it’s Christmas Day
Inside are several pouches of dog food
and some substantial sandwiches
It is but a small gift,
yet I can see it means the world to him
he reaches up and touches my hand
I’m sorry son,
I wish I could do more to help
but I only have a small widow’s pension
I walk away,
knowing how fortunate I am
"This is no life, just a way of surviving another day"
I’ve had ups and downs in my life, but ...
“I've never been where they've been”
Writing Challenge 2, November - A Poem Meaningful - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Written on 10/7/19
Standing on the broken cement of the back porch
silently staring into the skies
and talking to myself
Fingers struggling to keep appearances
windshield wipers across my cheek
watercolors gone white
Flippant, fanatical, furious
patient, protective, passionate
trying to love the beast
Sending dreams to the clean ears of the open air
returned quickly, clutched in your mouth, crushed
presented for reward
Dead birds delivered to my doorstep
my nature wants to heal them, bury them
yours waits and wags its tail
Tongue Study
Tongues
Steady it wags
needing to know
more, about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain.
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served, it has given
and taken, it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been bitten,
and it has been written,
the tongue can be tied, twisted
curt, sweet, sharp, wagging or
bragging.
It may be your
native tongue
or foreign, it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
"the cat may have it".
If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead, you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.
The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.
Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.
Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.
Be careful, mind your tongue
it is closest to your own ears
and will affect you first, rather
before the others hear.
Be not at the mercy of
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown.
Do not despise the
a foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual, do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
or those who can barely
master his own tongue.
In general, I have concluded
whether you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.
I will not justify my tongue
when I use its power for the wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust.
The real power is in
the righteousness
of the speaking tongue.
For those who live by
the sharp and swarded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer.
May also die
by the mighty tongue,
or by the holding of it.!
Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014
Love is a feeling not words
To think otherwise would be absurd
But I'll do my best to explain
Although I'm sure it'll be in vain
He's as soft as a brief spring shower
He's the color in all of my flowers
He's my sun on a rainy day
He keeps me healthy at walk and play
When I'm sad he makes me smile
When I'm mad at him, he pouts like a child
When I'm happy he wags his tail
He's the wind that pushes my sails
In the dark he's the eyes that guide me
When I'm sick he lays beside me
He's my comforter on lonely nights
Lays sleeping quietly when I write
He's smarter than most human beings
Cause he's sees with his heart what I'm feeling
I cook him the meals he eats
And I tickle his freckled feet
Sometimes when I take a shower
He gets in under his own power
Then dries off rubbing a towel
Just like I taught him how
He wipes his dirty feet by the door on a rug
After going outside in the mud
At night he gives me a kiss
Then informs me if anything is amiss
He's the inspiration for the poems I write
And I love him with all of my might
He's not a dog or a pet, he's my friend
You see, I wouldn't be me without him
by Daniel Turner
For "Buddy"
My shoes lie prone like dogs waiting for a new adventure
Will it be a soft seashore shuffle?
A jaunt through the mall, all dusty with grime
A plunge to tippy-toe into mud and puddles
A climb up a tree or hike up mountain slopes
A skip through playgrounds with the kids
A ride up an escalator, what a relief!
All polished and shined, a first date in mind
A twirl around dance floor, avoiding soft toes
Laced up tightly and properly for business date, late
Or pounding the pavement for shopping walk jaunt
A stroll through the park on soft green grass, fresh mown.
Finally to relax off-feet, in lounge room, at last we're home,
Before shoes shed, get bedded in closet with friends,
Who share tales and tongue wags with the shodden down-trodden.
Gait Keeper
The limp is more pronounced on days like these,
cold rain and chilling breeze. The hitch in his giddy-up
causing his head to angle slightly, correcting for the
sway. His eyes seem a bit less bright yet still alert
while the tail, that ever enthusiastic metronome of
friendship, wags, and waits. So we walk a little slower,
a little less far, sharing the tempo of age and a
love that knows no desire to walk alone.
2013
submitted to – Beloved Pets – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Francine Roberts
I'm as free as the wind as I sway in the saddle!
I love life! There's no clutter, nothing to addle!
I give my faithful horse Wild Lightning free rein,
As we meander across God's magnificent terrain!
My pal Spooks trots ahead surveying sagebrush and crags.
I sense that he enjoys life too by the tail he wags!
I crave no roof - the wide-open range is my home.
Territorial bounds don't confine me - freely I roam!
Well-worn saddlebags contain my earthly possessions.
I don't aspire riches nor am I burdened by obsessions.
My soul abounds with wealth as I view His Creation!
Ah! The grandeur of it all! 'Tis ample compensation!
I pause on a knoll viewing the vast panorama and ponder,
The river, a lake, those snow-capped mountains o'er yonder!
In the valley a herd of pronghorn antelope gambol and play.
At dusk The Master Artist paints a majestic sunset display!
Campfire embers slowly die - Wild Lightning grazes nearby.
Spooks lies at my feet - snug in my blanket I gaze at the sky.
I anticipate being awakened by a glorious sunrise next morn,
When Wild Lightning, Spooks and I continue our vagabond bourne!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
We are as similar as opposites can be
He's short and puny, I am gangly
He barks when he's happy, angry or sad
Yes, he's my dog and he makes me glad
He looks at me with reverent eyes
As I beg before the world, for a morsel of rice
He's happy even though, it's in a broken voice, I sing
To him I am nothing less than a King
I am dirty and unkempt, my clothes in tatters
When people turn away with disdain, my heart shatters
But he's blissfully unaware of my pathetic existence
To him I am more than just means of subsistence
He is my companion, my friend, my guide
Together we surf the storms and the rising tide
Of everyday life and together we survive
I think, it is for him that I stay alive
As the day winds down, our spoils we share
In a dirty corner of a dirty street; Our lair
We always eat together, never alone
He always gives me the meat, and gnaws on a bone
I talk to him about past's glory, and today's misery
The world laughs at me and calls me crazy
But he wags his tail as though understanding it all
And snuggles up to me and sleeps, when night falls
Some days ...
Not dank days, but bright
I go to the well of creativity and muse
Drop a bucket with intent and hope ... wait
It rises empty, oozing thru holes of apathy, procrastination
(Save for last sleep's nightmares, scratching inside)
I look to the inked depths, shivering
Red-eyed, a demon wags his bony finger
Mocking a twisted, condescending grin
I scream him to hell, yet he whispers back ...
"But Brother, we're already there"
Did he just call me ...
Brother?!?
The winter winds are frostily howling,
their bloodhound companions are searching
Under a crimson moon scarlet glowing
And I e-scapegoat dream
of a new life
On the other side of Dawn
Runaway thoughts
keep me on the rabbit shun
Desperately trying to get to the woke realization;
that sunrise stun,
the radiant feeling of freedom
Wading thru the Tennessee fog,
following the North Star
To an unfettered fate
that awaits
After ev’ry next day
Midnight dreaming in a murky bog
That a life of liberty
is like an Exodus cloud moving
from pyramid underground task,
premature burial bent
To a Promise Land, no questions asked
‘bout the dog wags sent
Can’t get caught up in wistful thinking
just yet
Not when liberty lies
on the other side of the misty mountain
Til then, before the night fades away ...
I keep my fleeing hopes chained to my bosom
A dash, so death daring true,
as my heart race to the new Dawn horizon —
Into a sacred space
that oasis awaits
After ev’ry next day
Freedom arise anew,
with each wet pillow embrace
A joyous splash,
that leaves no fetter tear trace
12-01-20
Alas I am still here but you are gone,
verily so all things must pass old friend;
true the proud breast filled and white his coat shone
from beginning to inglorious end.
A scout, a hunter, and a rover save
the car chasing fool in outrageous youth,
yet in his lazy dotage I forgave
sly endeared mischief too long in the tooth.
That you bettered me I do freely boast
and made less joyless this world unto me -
a kindness of heart I’ll remember most
and wagging tail known eponymously.
I think of old times over hill and dale
in my love for you in this a dog’s tale.
Written: May 1990
Our family dog 1972 ~ 1988
An English Setter cross.
It's not easy being a cat, you know
They say we have nine lives
But truth be told, like you, we have but one
In my personal life, in my odyssey to the road of being loved
I purred many days and nights on doorsteps until I found the warmest hands
Sleeping 'neath the stars many a night, thinking to myself...
"There must be someone out there"
Someone out there who will shelter me, care for me, and love me
Someone out there that is kind and thoughtful
Someone out there, for Christ sakes- that likes cats!
Well, my quest for finding love had finally come
And trust me, it was well worth the wait
When Ms. C brought me in,
I knew that I had finally found the "Purrfect" home
The unconditional love that she gives to me...
Wags my tail in motions that even I didn't know existed
Now, I look at those same stars at night, thinking to myself...
"It's so nice to be a cat"
I don't know if I will ever have nine lives
But one thing for certain is that I lived two
One very scary and lonely life...
And one very loving and beautiful life
All thanks, to Ms. C
And for her wonderful kindness...
To cats, like me
"Goddess of Dawn" from ancient mythology,
I'm a creative soul, loyal, compassionate, responsible
Sister of curiosity, sibling of five brothers and elder sister;
Passionate about nature care, my family circle, the arts;
Who feels safe with loved ones, connected with God, and joyful about positive changes in this world
Scared of climbing heights, being stuck in close spaces and sudden demise of kin:
Would want to see the end of poverty, life in Jupiter, splendor of Borealis
Citizen of Asiana , a country famous
for her powdered beaches and warm smiles,
Claud!
My dachshund pal lights the days' fire
Naughty Snicks-- a dame of desire,
Her wags and night plays always soar
Gone now... times with her I'll adore!
the
thick message
competes with reality,
pulls us like string puppets,
wags the tail of truth,
prevents positive emotion,
obscures historic changes,
stopping time....
....slowing progress
increasing
shareholder
value
like Labrador retriever
squirrel wags his bushy tail
forth and back and forth
happy go lucky* amidst
Autumnal storm of acorns
*cheerfully unconcerned about the future