Best Whippet Poems
when he spoke
words broke like glass between his teeth
14 minutes past 8PM 7 weeks after the red river
in his brain ran almost dry
he the acidic and sullen shadow of his youth
turned to me
(one side of his face a landslide of flesh
frozen into freefall
thus i won't mimic the inarticulate sound of it)
look after your mother
and my ten year old self nodding
wishing i were not there
then she who had married this man to protect her
plus one boychild from a condemning Catholic family
and a rabid priesthood
having thus become a widow at 37
being only 5 feet high in her pumps
also as slim as a whippet
turned to drink dying quickly of a gastric ulcer
never mind her failing liver
no wonder
i turned out more angular then an open razor
biting every hand that fed body and mind
thinking that same hand would one day turn against me
as it usually did
but i unable to stop my breakneck race to personal destruction
until poetry found me wandering a bitter earth
it entering my soul one turbulent night wailing like
a hungry infant which i fed and carried for years
not knowing i needed it much more than it needed me
and so
we ate broken glass together until
words bled into red flowers floating upon a river
that flowed through my brain
When we found you at the pound,
your eyes showed your despair,
all the others jumped around,
but not you, you just laid there.
dull chocolate coat, and painfully skinny,
you didn't even lift your head,
I watched you sadly, just a pup,
yet you seemed so grown up.
Half Lab, half Whippet, who could imagine such a dog,
we brought you home,lean and scared,
but soon to us your soul you bared,
your antics always make us all laugh,
you've long forgotten your dreadful past.
Your so full of life and vigor,
so very different than what we imagined,
our lives will never be the same,
you came and livened up our game.
Thank you Missy Lou, for being in our life,
soon you will be two, and we sure do love you,
you make our day brighter than sunshine,
and at night, when your day's play is done,
all your toys are put away.
By my side you lay, sleeping so gently,
as I stroke your silky coat,
sometimes you open a honey colored eye,
and look up at me contented, and then give out a little sigh.
Dedicated to our wonderful dog Missy Lou
who we adopted from the local animal shelter
in March, 2009. She didn't turn out to be what we
thought we wanted, but she turned out to be just
what we needed in our life. She is truly a ball of energy!
We love her!
It’s the phantom window cleaner
He’s a man who’s built for speed
You should see him cleaning windows
He’s extremely fast indeed
If you watch him climb his ladder
With his squeegee and his scrim
Then you will not be surprised
That there’s not too much of him
He won’t slow down his pace
It’s such a disconcerting habit
Like a ferret up a pipe, or
A whippet, chasing rabbit
But wait till Friday night
When he is serving at the bar
It’s a total transformation
He’s the slowest one by far
Whooosh! Brrrrr...icy!..North wind in a steady gale blowing hard.
Whipping up the green sea into a jade and white peaked frenzy.
The water turning to an ultramarine blue on the misty horizon
Dappled clouds echo a scaly sea pattern in the lavender sky .
The cool Winter sun shyly peeking through the cloudy canvas.
Walking with the wind a woman with a whippet braces bravely.
Facing the salt spray and a wild sea the wind carries her along.
Burnt sienna sponge corals daley with red rubber spike corals
Empty crab shells crunched under moon crescent horse shoes
(presumably still alive
predicated on rumored sightings dive
ving fast as blazing saddles,
her blitzkrieg,
nothing but a blurry beehive.)
Swifter than Usain
(lightening) Bolt
Eden Liat
(thine eldest daughter,
a mixed hybrid breed
greyhound and whippet)
leaves in the dust
topnotch any racehorse
prompting speculation,
she harkens, and begat
from a long line,
sans award
(at trough feed ding),
many a cooly
winning super naturally
infused awk worded Colt
surpassing (with a flash,
plus even sub track ting
considerable handi
capped add halt
ting delay), thine
prestigious, princess,
and prodigious exalt
ting marathon running
smart lee zipping
as a whip lash heiress,
thru no fault
in the stars
of her astrological designs
oft times humbly declines
adulation, benediction, dedication
and deferentially finds
reasons amazingly, gracefully,
and mannerly deflects
self imposed grueling practices,
that she quickly grinds
into pulverized powder,
any high top custom made
high tech lines
brand name
threadbare sneakers saved
with countless
trophies that aligns
storied (and stuffed
animal bedecked)
bookshelf, even gag
me with a spoon
humor tinged competitions,
faux rotten tum ate oh
(John Heinz)
seeded "ketchup with me"
hash-tag game
opened to all kinds
of village people, including
some barenaked ladies,
where flashy Mainliners
dressed to the nines
(essentially for sound
garden variety public,
who generally favor squash),
that crop up during
Indian Summer salad days
punctuates the warm air,
where one after
another lover doth appear
oak kay embracing ephemeral
pseudo sappy romance
spine tingling
as sharp needling pines.
A vagabond whippet in Scranton PA
Will be your best friend before running away
Neither callous nor rude
He just craves solitude
When open roads call he must always obey
2/27/23
woman, oh woman
even after your
constant, daily
treatment of abuse
I demonstrated
I could have been
your karate kid.
In your defense
did I not impulsively
stand tall between
two warring giants
me, a whippet of a kid
arms outstretched
like sabre swords
pleading don't hurt
her....
taking blows
meant for you.
You the one that
inflicted pain 24/7
twisting the
tender skin off
my arm flesh and
leaving huge welts
that stung like
scorpion hot chilies
the umpteen mountainous
goose-egg bumps
you planted on
my tiny forehead
with knuckles
constructed of iron steel.
I demonstrated
a compassionate heart
in dreadful moments,
woman, oh woman
where was your
loving heart
standing in as mother
to an abandoned child
now trapped in a
poor, blazing hellhole.
With fresh eyes anew
...my learned enlightenment
I now understand your
sole/soul's motivation was
the almighty dollar
... hard cash that never
came through for you.
Pure and simple ...
avaricious by nature
most certainly
not nurture and,
please excuse me
while I laugh
you claim
to be a
christian!
Hmm, I say
hypocritical
and evil
to the core.
A clicking clock is a sound warden. A stereo monologue of one syllable. Like an om om. But an om is neither an omega nor a nom nom. And nom noms are said to be as righteous as driving around a drive or a lane with a clear view in sight of a previously blanked out blanket trees. Blanket trees are so very comfortable. Great aren't they?. Loose leaf pillows and a solid base trunk. Unbelievable the sights and sounds of a sewing and knitting course. Click click then but no den made in a duplex pile of material crocheted hems. Cross patch then. Ha ha mr whippet playing with a block of blue ice cream. Ha mangled moöns drying after spin cycle. C v dancing with bodies in a clearing. Clap. Operatic ostriches neighing to ovations. X x x x x incineration z z z z