Long Kennel Poems
Long Kennel Poems. Below are the most popular long Kennel by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Kennel poems by poem length and keyword.
"Mummy says now that my heart is broken, nothing will ever hurt me as much again" The Poet.
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Fir trees along the road, showing the way.
There's a log cabin, for us to stay.
Daddy built our house by a big fir tree.
A loving place for he, mummy and me.
Mountain country, cozy fires to keep warm,
Wild flowers, where bees love to swarm.
Daddy made a cradle when I was born,
He painted birds on it and a small fawn,
He made wooden blocks for me, I was one,
He piled them up, I knocked them down, such fun.
He made a rocking chair when I was two.
One bigger for mummy and for him too.
When I was three, kennel for my new dog.
When I was four, dolls house made from a log.
At five he made a tire swing on a tree.
The angels took daddy but didn't take me.
He didn't make me anything -I was six.
We went to a big house all made from bricks.
Cant take much, mum said we've to travel light.
I miss my dog and tire swing , it's not right.
Most I miss daddy, need him here with me.
I'll be good, when he comes home he will see.
Mum said he's making stuff with angels now.
He left all his tools, so I don't see how.
I'll stop crying, but we should never part.
When you left, I think you took my heart.
Girls at school said if your dad left it's true.
That he no longer loves your mum and you.
I cant think you dont love us anymore.
Please daddy come home like it was before.
I lie in bed when I cant sleep at night.
I pretend your strong arms hold me tight.
Daddy where's your smile to keep out the cold?
Your soft squeeze when you take my hand to hold.
I thought you were there, I was in that play.
You were clapping so loud, it made my day.
Missing you, I am wondering where you are.
Could you pick me up from school in your car?
When some dads share fun at the park, I cry.
You pushing me on the swing, I would fly.
I could show all the kids, this is my Dad.
Home from Heaven for good, now I'm not sad.
Lady was my shepherd dog,,
she was so kind and gentle
except to chickens down the lane
when she broke loose from her kennel.
Let's turn attention to a breed
that came from Pomerania.
Queen Victoria for such dogs
was seized by a lifelong mania.
On canine matters I'll not stray..
Long lectures are so stuffy.
Rather, it's my firm intent
to describe a dog called Fluffy
.
She shares with Pomeranians
a propensity to bark
but still she wins the hearts of all
when I take her to the park.
A dream has just revealed to me
that Fluffy and Lady have met.
Oh how I feared the next event
would see poor Fluffy dead.
You 'll never guess what happened..
The two became best friends.
To heaven they flew on a fluffy cloud
and here my story ends.
Amidst the weeping rain,
the hours refuse to move
as if they feel hard to bear
everything stagnated
adding more to strain and pain.
In this pit dark new moon night
gusty winds and non stop rain
led to power off and all stand still
adding more to strain and pain
The rain with thunder
made no human voice heard
but little later a whine
adding more to strain and pain
Dogs and puppies wail
as their kennel struck with a log
rushed to pull it apart
and to part from the strain and pain.
Darkness and silence threatens
when a little sound or light is sensed
catch it, release someone
you will be relaxed.
Amidst the weeping rain,
the hours refuse to move
wait, that too will pass
hope sustains life.
The stigma clings
as if you were born with it
the words drummed
into you head,
you are not good enough
you will never be good enough…
It’s like standing on parade everyday
to be chosen for a team
with eyes pleading
“pick me, please pick me!”
Don’t let me carry the water
bottles again…
And yet again
it falls on you,
with shoulders hanging
and a fake smile
though very convincing
because you wear it all the time…
The need to
not be second best
is getting so huge
you end up changing
who you are just to fit in
just to be someone’s first choice,
You act like a puppy
at an animal shelter
doing tricks to entice
a potential owner
wagging your tail
jumping up and down,
eventually they still chose
the puppy in the kennel
next to yours without the tail…
Will you ever be good enough?
The question remains a refrain,
uncertainty your friend right till the end…
Grandaddys gun is sitting in my safe
It's a rusty old single shot 12 Gauge
It rode the rack in his pickup
And to him it was just a gun
But to me.... It holds countless memories
You see that kitchen prayer on my wall
It's the same one we recited, when I was very small
We'd say it fore each Sunday meal
But that's not only its appeal
To me, its much more than ornamental....It's Sentimental
I'm not sure what it really is these days
Is it low T, or is it just my age
Of all the things I've ever owned
What I cherish most in my home
Are the things, that are so elemental
I'm sentimental
Over there on the mantel lies my best dog
With his collar and a lock of hair, taped to the box
I couldn't put him out in the yard
Cause if we moved he'd be too far
I still remember, when he came home from the kennel
I'm sentimental
You can call me any name that you'd like to
And my wife says I'd keep it all, If she'd allow me to
I don't understand why everyone has to be so judgmental
I'll be this way till my dying day
Just call me sentimental
I'll be that way to my dying day
Cause I'm sentimental
Underneath our sins/ they call us sinners
Underneath our pride???underneath our happiness? Buried within society? We heard them shout?
We heard them shout at the top of their lungs. We heard them shout where we were going and when we were going there. We heard them call us “Devils.
“Devils”??How could we be devils?? We were only just alive. We didn't choose to be this way, it just happened like this. We went to the venues for confession but they only shamed us more. They shamed us for coming clean, they humiliated us, kicked us out and closed the door.
-So what now. Where will we go? It's ok, forget about it, pack your bag and put on a smile. We're leaving but we'll come back after a while. Underneath my strong assertive exterior there is a person scared that they have to go. A person that regrets ever letting the world know. A person that took advice from someone living on the same planet yet a different world .
We heard them shout at the top of their lungs. We heard them shout that sooner or later we would have to stop this sin. We heard them call us miscreants. MIscreants?? As in criminals?? What have we done to be classified as such?? As if me expressing my love through a touch is enough to make me into an animal. One deserving of being put into a kennel. Are those who love normal recipients?? Are they the ones worthy?? Does their normal make them better? Does their “holy” mean they’re greater? They shout loudly at the breaker. And their loud shouts grow prouder.
-Underneath that voice shouting lies a girl not so much girl buried within society. Slowly dying to make a break, slowly crawling to catch a breath. Underneath her happiness lies the lies that she hides from the world as she tries to be the best girl in it. Underneath her pride lies a girl that strives to reach and meet the terms of their holy but dries out and dies.
-Underneath their “HOLY”.
They call us villains.
We hear them shouting.
We bear with the pain and the shame… we pack our bags and turn our backs….desperate for the day they will understand our pain and welcome us back
I express my pain loudly yet not trying to provoke thee
They ignore my yells proudly while singing the songs of their holy
Boohoo is bidding for Boo-Boo
But Yogi’s not seeking a deal,
He’s scanning the park for a picnic
Looking forward to his evening meal.
Warner Brothers deny their involvement
So investors are kept in the dark,
But rumours are spreading ’round Bedrock
And the restrooms of Jellystone Park.
Boohoo is bidding for Boo-Boo,
It’s becoming a sought-after brand;
For Yogi it’s deeply upsetting
And he’s drawing a line in the sand.
This fetish for gobbling-up trademarks
Is addictive - a turbulent torrent,
So the trustees of Hanna-Barbera
Have rescinded Mister Ranger’s warrant.
Boohoo is loving the limelight,
Printing posters to boast of expansion.
Directors are driving round Dorset
Seeking out an available mansion.
Animated heroes fall silent,
Suppressing their deep-seated rage,
They’ve vowed to stop buying new costumes,
Thought bubbles stay blank on the page.
Snagglepuss is sacking his agent
Whose alibi soon fell to pieces,
Wacky Races have cancelled two meetings
Though Mister Jinks is still chasing meeces.
Huckleberry Hound is blue in the face,
So upset that he’s leaving his kennel tea.
Boohoo’s directors have not thought this through,
Analysts think they’ll soon pay a penalty.
Now Matalan, Primark and Peacocks
Are struggling hard to pay rates,
They see this young upstart named Boohoo
Just sealing competitors’ fates.
The Jetsons are locked in a hangar
Refusing to talk to the press,
While Cindy is comforting Yogi
Because bears aren’t accustomed to stress.
Just how many trademarks are needed
To cater for everyone’s tastes?
With so many trend-setters in lockdown
Periodically measuring waists.
The Jellystone team is downhearted
When they note that admissions are down,
With Boohoo now trashing their legacy
It’s the first time they’ve seen Muttley frown!
Yes, Boohoo is bidding for Boo-Boo,
It’s becoming a sought-after brand;
For Yogi it’s deeply upsetting
And the prospects for fashion seem bland.
"Pourri Pourri - Remember Me"
I am not white
I am coloured
A kaleidoscope
of voice and song muted
freedom sold
for the price of a bale of wheat
ground in the white man’s mill
I become pale as sifted flour
lost voodoo ghost
whispered on wind song
gone
walk about
in the Dream Time
with all my
brothers and sisters
chained to drown as anchors
in white man’s boats
I am blood sold and weighed
without home, without doubt
sold for the price of
teeth, skin and enslaved longevity
what is left in my veins
the remnants of a home
fading
the ancestors are calling
this is
not to be forgotten
drained I am
they attempt to make me
something else
white as
the bones that point
I am ignored
my gods hang their heads in shame
For I am lower
than the lowest pet now
kept in a kennel
no power
My heritage,
I am strung up on a tree
displayed
for what I am lacking
I am a lesson for the others
hung like art and burned
By alabaster
hidden hoods
I am
not seen
for who I truly am
Born of true royalty
misunderstood,
barefoot, voiceless, crude
I now dance
with all those who are free
united barefoot
colour bleeds
I dance with
Featherfoot
Pourri Pourri
Freed
You will see
Remember Me
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Its either me or you
Don't look at me like that
We live in this house together as one
You lick
I drink
I am your master
You are my pet
I work hard
You eat hard
Now that we are all hungry
You cant hunt and i cant work
I either turn in prey
Or you become my dinner
God would call on of us a fool
If we both starved to death
Now that i have sense
And you have strength
Lets the game begin
though you have to be in the kennel first
Because my wisdom starts on shooting
While your on tiring
Let the game begin
Either man or dog
will be dinner tonight
*from one of a tale i just read of recent*
Do you know what it’s like
Being a stray, that is
A homely sight
No flower beds for your biz
People looked at me with pity
As they’d walk their golden doodles
Dachshunds, long and nippy
Those high faulting fools
What happened to a mutt
Being a respectable family dog
I try not to lick my butt
Intact tail and dewclaws
By the dumpster, I would sleep
And have these amazing dreams
On a farm, I’d round up sheep
In shape, strong and lean
It should come as no surprise
I embellished more than a little
When the opportunity, did arise
I walked straight in the kennel
The gentleman who took me in
Had a lot of faith in me
Following a wink and grin
He quickly set me free
It wasn’t quite as I imagined
Those curly headed beasts
Weren’t the ones that I’d been counting
To drift me off to sleep
Confused as a peach on a grapevine
Butting heads, then seeing stars
Incapable of forming a straight line
They couldn’t see, this was an art
Each day was a small improvement
And now, they’re single file
A cadence to their movement
To make my owner smile
He lets me sleep at his feet
Gives me scraps after dinner
Perhaps a small deceit
But now he has a winner