Long Golden retriever Poems
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The toddler turns his face and grins
Bouncing along with a bumpity bump bump
The rest of the room stops to watch
Everyone feeling uplifted and happy
He is lying on his mommy now,
Flat out, with arms around her
Snuggling into her neck
We feel his warmth across the room
All we need now is a puppy someone says
One comes running, demanding to be petted.
It is a golden retriever, showing us that life is good
Reminding us that it is the small things that matter
We leave the party feeling lighter and younger.
Best party in a long time, my partner says.
I concur, smiling as I think of the toddler and the puppy.
Life is terrific. The key is to look for its greatness.
My medicine is getting me down
I feel depressed
Why don’t you take two? Someone suggests
As if that ever works
Someone does not know; he does not even go to a doctor.
A golden retriever puppy, I say.
It is all I have ever wanted.
I just turned 72 years young
and I retired.
Do you know how much they cost? Someone asks.
He says “You can buy twenty regular puppies for the same amount.”
I cannot be dissuaded.
I travel two hours to pick up my golden retriever, Beau.
My grandson Jack goes with me.
The puppy is bigger than I thought.
He does not allow us to pick him up.
My grandson is seventeen, he gets him.
They cuddle and sleep the two hours back.
I drive, all happy, singing seventies songs.
Loving Helen Reddy’s “I am woman”
and Cher’s “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.”
When we get home there are two problems.
Someone has kept them both inside.
Buddy our one hundred and sixteen pound puppy.
And Sophie, our old lady cocker spaniel who is 91 and mean.
How to introduce them to Beau, my new baby?
I get all kinds of emails and suggestions.
No one who makes these has ever had 19 dogs simultaneously.
I have.
I let the big boy and the mean girl come out and sniff the puppy.
(The puppy is safely in a cage) for this event.
Big boy Buddy wants Beau OUT
Beau wants out too.
Sophie the 13-year-old mean girl gives puppy a warning growl.
A low menacing bark originating from the bowels of hell comes out of Beau.
I am shocked.
He did not make a sound the two hours in the car!
I decide to let him out.
He gives chase and the other two run like I have not seen them run in years.
I think it’s going to be okay, I tell Someone.
That was six days ago.
They are all sleeping together now, butt to butt.
My granddaughter texted me this today “Do not let them touch for three days.”
“Too late,” I texted her back.
I have always wanted a golden retriever puppy.
This year I decided to gift myself one; he is Beau.
Thirty-five pounds of sheer puppy-chewing fun.
Sophie, our thirteen -pound persnickety cocker was horrified.
She is doing her best to pretend that Beau does not exist.
Buddy, a mutt who was dumped on us two years ago likes Beau.
They are both goofy with giant heads and enormous paws.
Buddy was sixty-nine pounds when he was dumped.
He now dresses out at one hundred and sixteen.
The puppy Beau is chewing dry wall, the legs of chairs, and my desk.
I brought home forty dollars of puppy chew toys, but they are not the ticket.
He wants to be close to me every second; it has made walking difficult.
Picture this.
You take a step, but there is a puppy head in between your knees for the next step.
Beau is now in the room with my husband’s drum set.
He has figured out his bark sounds even more fierce here
when it vibrates off the drums.
This is day two.
A pretty amazing day all in all.
Because I have always wanted a golden retriever puppy.
For those who've never owned a dog
Your life has been missing a treat
The greatest feeling ever known to man
The epitome of love at your feet
Most loyal companion we've ever known
Our Golden Retriever is that
The most happy joyful disposition ever
We learn a lot from this fact
In spite of all of our many problems
These guys are always there
They cheer us up and help us realize
Life's simple secret is to share
Share the love that's in everyone's heart
Nothing's more important in life
Doggies know, pay attention my friends
Their loyalty gets rid of our strife
© Jack Ellison 2014
purple skies, they write to me
take your time, i know this is scary.
what is my story
where is my movie
whatever's happening to me
lovesick and lost in a purple city
get me my sunshine
two blocks of sugar with extra whipped cream
golden retriever smelling like fresh print
for I'm lovesick and lost in a purple city
midnights in october
sky's a blank canvas
painting my way to the sunrise
serene is the silence that lives.
colours of wonder
colours of joy
colours of hardwork and colours of life
purple skies and purple lives
silver linings on a dark night.
cotton candy immature little lady
too sweet to crumble too quiet to cry
the scent of coffee bringing sanity
claiming to be a fairytale
cozy sweaters as we're nearing the end
the end is only the beginning
we skip through the bends
purple madness and purple cries
streaks of gold above they glide
rays of sunlight crawling to my side
it's a purple feeling of a purple sky
calligraphy on purple clouds
meant to be letters from a secret scout
smiles of a puppy
make me so happy
for I'm lovesick and lost in a purple city
Golden star child they say.
The perfect kid they say.
The smartest in class, the best in friendliness,
Willing to help, and most importantly...
The star child.
"It's not true" I say to my friends,
Being humble, I lower my head to people.
"It hurts.." I say to myself when alone,
Wishing it would stop.
Everyday I would go to school, be happy.
Smile and greet, be praised and decline.
It's just all that.
After a tired day, I train.
Coach tells me my average is best in my grade.
I'm happy and content,
I thank the Coach for helping me to get here.
But when I get home,
I isolate.
I go to my bed, rest and think about it.
Then talk to my friends,
The only friend I consider my real friends.
"I'm lonely and weird" i say to them,
"No you're the best person we've ever met."
One says,
"With great humor!" Another butts in,
"And an amazing unhinged personality."
Another, honestly speaking.
"You may be weird but that's normal, everyone is unique"
My best friend says.
But ofcourse, in the dark there's someone out to take my place.
With hatred and wrath.
"Attention seeker, stop fishing attention"
There it is, what hurts me the most.
It's true, I seek attention.
Not only that, but also affection.
It may be the truth but it's okay,
Everyone wants affection and attention.. right??
"The golden star child.
I am perfect and humble,
I will have a leash on my collar like a golden retriever.
I'm not a star child!
I'm no where near perfect at her!
What are you all thinking?!
I'm just here.. existing under her shadow
That's why I'm alone,
Begging for attention...
But the attention I receive,
It's not the way I want it to be!!
Why can't anyone under stand that all I ask for
Is to be least average!-...."
I stop out of control, putting on a smile on my face.
"I am the golden star child, I am to listen without complaints.
I.... I'm the golden star child.. the star child.. the perfect daughter.. smart.. kind and beautiful.. i-im.. I'm......."
Tears fell, the tears overflowed the jar.
I sob yet noone sees..
"Nothing...."
Wynken Blynken and Nod???
(ah...oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee
barked up the wrong tree –
reed don my mongrel friend)
This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag
to take digs on front page
headline grabbing news, nonetheless dag
nab bit significant dysfunction prevails
when bodily energy
does shutterfly like a black flag
without rapid eye movement,
this lix spittle chap
feels like an old hag
whereat every friggin bone (er)
in this straggly, mangy, and creaky ship
of state feels like jag
head shards piercing thine flesh
with pronounced jet lag
and reacts with
the slightest provocation
like a curmudgeonly
cranky compromised nag,
yet, this muttering mouth foaming
flea bitten doggone chow barker
bows down in (toto) obeisance
(like an obedient Dachshund)
tail wagging, trump petting,
and snout sniffing out provenance
on par with the smell of new sofa despite
fur vent angry ma
stiff masta paws zing
aghast at dog eared, glom haired,
and icky stained new furniture,
how petty, versus slumber
lest awakening the Cerberus within,
hence faux long enough
to excel as the top notch mix breed
boxer golden retriever terrier
male delivery postbag
(as taught at canine obedient school)
upon spilling contents,
the bulk of printed material
detailing importance,
sans letting sleeping
Canis lupus familiaris lye undisturbed,
especially after a bath
when pooch resembles
a limp dish rag
all apropos hot (gravy trained) relevant
topics for instance,
when feeling sleep deprived
detailing how to shepherd
and summon the snoop doggy dog
inchoate hounding gnarly
Marley elusive dream
fostering feigning fearsome nightmare
asper getting lost without a name tag.
LEAVES
My mind wanders, as I sit at my cluttered desk, trying desperately to contact our clients. Working from home during the Covid-19 Lock down, is a challenge with no staff.
I imagine myself sitting in a field of abundant green grass with cosmos flowers surrounding me. The old oak tree has lost some of it’s leaves, we are half way into Autumn. I see a bird’s nest not too far out of reach, but I am not quite tall enough to peep in. I hear tiny chirps, hungry fledglings awaiting their mothers return. A winding but strong stream, trickles beside me and I am mesmerised by the sound. It makes me sleepy, but my golden retriever Plato keeps barking at me to throw a stick into the stream. I lazily pat him and lay down on the grass. A fresh Easterly breeze is blowing gently caressing me, and rustling the leaves in this old oak tree that could tell me more than a lifetime of stories. A leaf falls into the trickling stream, and I hear the water running swifter. I suddenly see a fast flowing river that leads to rocks and rapids, but I still see the leaf flowing and churning and dipping and diving. I am so engrossed in its misfortune flowing towards a waterfall, that I become the leaf, and the waterfall roars as I drift closer to its thunder. I no longer feel peaceful as I struggle to not fall over the edge – but I am a tiny leaf in a vast world.
The phone rings, and confused, still in my daydream, I reach to answer it. As I say Hello?’ the headline “Latest Covid-19 news” scrolls across the TV above my desk. Reality takes over, we must survive!
The wind sweeps over my bikini
and combs through my hair
This canoe ride.. is like a glass of red wine
The Naked grape my favourite kind.
I feel at peace...............
For the first time, in a while
completely rid of my anxieties
The sun embraces my skin
My china doll ceramic is so accepting
My golden retriever fearlessly jumps off the dock
he flies
He seeks adventure and see's life for what it is
You see because life is two people throwing a frisbee.
Chasing the disc back and forth desperately in hopes of the one momentarty tasting his own
personal victories
Or those moments where you throw back your hair to the wind
Uncaring for the consequences
This is how he lives
My golden retriever is the essence of living,, unaware of how his actions may be percieved
as emberrassing.
Because he lives how he feels free, and when your free
your mind explodes like a dying star and is reborn into a forming galaxy
That is all he needs.
When is it in life that we as humans just accept life for the catch and release
The elegant flight of the greek discus
When we should be tossing away our laptops, and blackberries
I'm sick of fashion magazines
telling me what is the right skinny
Because I have two skin cascadian mountains erupting from my chest
I have hips like the sticks of dynamite
and nile river torso
and a bottom that is as flat as a pizza dough
You realize the quirks and aspects that make you as an individual
BEAUTIFUL
Live like the dog that is hidden in the back of your mind
find the little things that make you gratified
Love the people around you, and celebrate their arrivals like a carnival
Eat your bowls of food like they were your last meal
Lay out on the carpet as if you lay in a bed with sheets made from Egyptian Silks
This is the way to live your life I am telling you
A dog named Arrow…with a beautiful smile
came to the mountains…to visit with us for a while.
She didn’t come alone for this little dog depends
on the love and care of Bonnie, her owner…one of our oldest and dearest friends.
Bonnie named her dog Arrow…as a nod to the indigenous people
because she understands…
the wisdom and knowledge they possess as true caretakers of our land.
Walking Arrow I remember thinking I am like the bow
with her leash in my hand…pulling her back…as forward she tries to go.
I took this as a good sign…and by no means am I bragging
but every morning when she saw us…her tail wouldn’t stop wagging.
There is an Native American legend that when a human dies…
as those of us left behind are feeling the loss….
if that person is to get to heaven…there is a bridge that they must cross.
At the head of that bridge…waits every animal they have ever met….
any animals they’ve encountered…every chance meeting…every pet.
Based on what those animals know of that person…it’s up to them to say…
if that person crosses into heaven…of if they’re turned away.
I hope when I come to that bridge…(for I am a true believer)
among those greeting me will be Whitman…our favorite golden retriever…
followed by all the other animals…in my life’s collection…
and I hope a Arrow is at the head of the pack….
pointing me…
in the right direction.