Long Dog it Poems
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The past and the future
A war was coming our way as a patriot, I enlisted
Although I was a bit elderly, I was accepted
sent to a camp, with the rank of sergeant in
charge of the kitchen
When the war ended, I took the bus back to my
village that looked the same as before, and my dog
sat on the steps waiting for me, she wanted to
go for our usual walks in the woods
After half an hour, I called the dog; it was time to
go home, but the dog had disappeared, think she
had run home waiting to let her in, but she and
The village was not there,
Instead of a man with a golf club in his hand, I thought
looked like Trump telling me I was trespassing
But there was a village here, yes, but we got rid of
it when constructing the golf course
He looked at me and said, Are you from the past?
Yes, I am, but this is the future you are in the wrong
place, you'd better go back before your time is over
I walk to where the road and horizon merge
When I was young,
love was breath
and heartbeat--
and fear of Mama,
offset by the comfort
of my lovely Nana.
And my father--
where was he?
Then I entered manhood-
fierce and stark, knowing
women before I knew them.
My lust for their bodies
kept my love at bay--
like a cowed dog it
whimpered, only
longing to be petted.
I was not kind but not
cruel, eagerly entering
their bodies while ignoring,
nay, fearing their
loving souls.
Then one spring day
the hollow man I had
become cracked open,
and my unknown,
unseen soul spilled
out into that river:
its dark fierce waters
of despair driving it
towards that ocean
of utter blackness.
Something saved me,
returned first my body,
then my mind to the
world, to this world.
The One I had forgotten,
ignored, showed mercy,
showed me my real being,
a soul without beginning,
without ending--truly
made in His image.
Halfway through shampooing the dog, it came....
A new idea for a poem.
I tried to scribble it on to the floor with a soapy finger
No one else to tell, except the dog...
He just looked bewildered, and shook his body violently
Splashing water everywhere, erasing my verse....
Quinching that wonderful lightbulb moment.
It was as if it had vanished into thin air
Gone forever.......never to be retrived.....
I asked my dog if he remembered any of what I had said
He just shook himself again, and I let him free...
My retriever ran off, like the words of my poem....
Free at last...free at last....
Retrieving a poem...or a wet retriever....isn't easy....
The following words are not written to disparages cats or birds or frogs
or any other animal for that matter…it’s just, in my opinion…
there’s something about a dog!
To start with…and this can’t be a coincidence…
I mean don’t you find it odd
that when you read the letters of dog backward it spells out the word god.
It doesn’t matter what faith you are, in what place of worship you sit
or if you don’t believe in a god at all…it’s a little curious…
you have to admit.
Dogs are innocent, they are loyal, they get excited over the littlest treat.
They are just as happy in your lap as they are sitting by your feet.
When they stand looking out a window they do so with style and grace.
Their love shows up from the wag of their tail to the tongue that licks your face.
No creature on this Earth greets you better when you walk into a room.
They have a way of lifting you up out of your darkest gloom.
They know when you are sad…somehow they understand
and they try to make it better by setting their paw upon your hand.
Spend some time with a dog…it won’t take but a little while
you’ll find how fast your troubles fade away…and you cannot help but smile.
And dogs never judge you by your color, sex, religion…
their acceptance is far and wide…
They don’t judge the way we humans judge…
they judge the person who's inside.
The only criticism I have of dogs is how soon their life is through
If I had one wish….I wish that dogs…would live as long as me and you.
Sure cats are self-reliant,
birds sing beautifully
and no animal jumps quite like a frog
but when you get right down to it…
there’s just something about a dog.
Ghostly
I sold my house to a Moldavian family
the drawback was they had two small children
the house came with two ghosts
as everyone knows, only children and poets see ghosts.
The children were not afraid they even played
with my dearly departed dog, it was just doing its
the normal routine at night, securing every room at night;
a thing it used to do before the transition.
The problem started when the children told the parents
they claimed I had not told them and demand the house sale
rescinded.
The dog is not the problem when it realizes its nightly
inspection is not needed hiding objects behind the sofa
is no longer amusing it will fade away.
As for the mule, it is not going anywhere, the house
used to be a barn and the living room a stable.
It has been here 90 years, happily munching hay.
You can even smell it on rainy days odour after
a long day, pulling the plough.
The estate agent told me not to worry about a court case
involving ghosts is a lost cause.
I wouldn´t mind if the dog came to the flat startling rats
coming up from the sewer I have to flush several times?
Before sitting down, and keep the lid firmly closed
with a heavy object on top.
When I didn't qualify for the football team, my Mom said to me in front of all the players,
"Flushing HS has just lost a quarterback, but our family has gained a daughter."
Good Times
Once my Dad returned home from a night on the town so drunk he could barely blink.
"Is there anything on earth," my mother asked him, "that you will not drink?"
"Yes there is," he replied with his breath stinking of brew,
"It's called poison my dear, but I'm saving it for you."
Good Times
In the middle of class I was approached by a bully.
He said, "I like your pants. Give them to me."
I always chuckle at that memory very fondly,
walking home in my gym shorts with temperatures in the 30's.
Ah, Good Times
"Does your dog bite?" I asked the sweet old man.
He answered "No" but when I pet the dog it bit my hand.
"You told me that your dog doesn't bite," I said wrapping my bloody wound with cloth.
We both laughed when he replied, "This isn't my dog."
Ah yes, Good Times.
Deep November,
a shallow time, nonetheless.
The snow is high packed with a cryogenic
amnesia.
Not yet dawn,
a sunken bed
muffles rising thoughts.
An eyelash of cognizance
flits across
thawing synapses.
Then the elastic nature
of sleep and wakefulness
snap alive!
November is howling still,
like a stray dog it scratches at my window -
wanting in.
For a while intelligence is a thorn in my paw.
Outside of the brain, November
is the same,
the darkness is still deep,
and friable as charred bone,
yet by now I am a candle flaring,
a flicker and gleam
within a neuronal time-machine,
and mind-surfing
on an ever-cresting awareness.
The ghost and a Child
I have a recurring dream I hadn´t been to my house for a long time, remember I had been happy
there with my little dog,
we used to walk in the woods, and when I was driving around in my motorbike, she was glad to see me returning.
I took a bus up, the driver didn´t ask me for money and being rather frugal. I was glad.
Outside the house, a little girl was playing, asked her If she liked living here?
Yes, she said, and I have a dog, she said.
The dog came. It was my dog; it didn´t recognize me growled when I called the dog`s name.
Inside the house, a couple were arguing, she said, I hate this house. It gives me the creeps
She sat down where I sat, wriggled a bit (which I liked)
she got up, stroked the seat (which I enjoyed too) but, she was bothered and sat on another chair.
They didn´t see me, I thought they must be blind.
Outside, I asked the little girl if her parents were blind. No, she said, but they can´t see you because
you are a ghost only a child like me can see.
It was late at night after a lively day, When I returned from the dance theatre, I heard a non -stop groaning sound nearby, The sound seemed to come from a building, I opened the gate of the old mansion, And I found a wretched,old mother dog, It was in a God-forsaken condition, And it was nearing its menacing grave, I was grief -stricken by the loss of the dog, What a sad condition the animal had ! , I wanted to save the mother doggy, I helped her drink some water, The dog wagged its tail for a reward, It was rescued in a gossamer way.