Long Spayed Poems
Long Spayed Poems. Below are the most popular long Spayed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spayed poems by poem length and keyword.
She was a ball of fluff, and I was allergic
made no difference
for she was alone, helpless,
and I was immediately in love
My daughter had been begging; she was thirteen
We did not agree on everything, but we agreed on this
She was named Munchkin, tiny little kitty cat
We forgot to get her spayed
This was the only time I did not think to spay a pet
She had six babies; there were darling – three blonde, three striped
We had to find them homes
I was reluctant to let them go
I had fallen in love with them too
She had been a wonderful mommy,
But seemed okay with them being gone
after a week or two of meowing
I have never felt so guilty in my life
She was the last pet I forgot to spay.
I used to just paint and not worry about my dogs
Who were running crazily up and down our road
Because I thought it was a slow country lane
I had no idea until one of them dug under the neighbor’s fence
That this road is used by approximately nineteen trucks an hour.
Where are they going? This road leads to two dead ends.
I have no idea, but now that I know, my work is just beginning.
I have to figure out how to keep my dogs in a pen.
Two dogs who have been running loose all of their lives.
This has been a really difficult week for me.
Today it rained, and I thought maybe things would get worse.
They are about the same. How to keep them in?
It would help if the neighbors had spayed their female dog
She is over there wailing for her demon lover, and my dogs want to help.
Lucky left on Thursday
a stroke
Friday no tip tap in hallway
Saturday no tip tap in hallway
Sunday morning, we woke to tip tap in hallway
"Did you hear that?"
Jumped out of bed.
New dog had come into the doggy door.
Not Lucky, but another black dog,
needing a home.
It's too soon, my husband said.
He took her to the vet for her shots on Monday.
Was raving about her on Tuesday.
Fed her chicken, beef, eggs, all the good stuff.
Gave her chocolate which everyone knows not to do.
New dog, Sophie, stayed at the vet overnight to get spayed.
I woke up at 2 a.m. to Lucky's familiar tip tap in hallway.
Jumped out of bed and ran to look.
I believe she was letting us know that she is
Sophie's spirit dog.
Kiss Me At Midnight
David J Walker
Ring out the old
Spill into the streets and strain to see
The new year rise with the commemorative sun
In your eyes
See if your name is listed
in the everyday agenda
of the new year
It’s next year somewhere said
The News-man with the spayed hair
on the
75-inch Video Screen
Do me a Party Favor and
Kiss me at Midnight
Hold me tight and
Make me love you more
in that brand new moment
the annual renewal of an original event
They have paper hats now for everything
Tell me you believe everything will be better
With a new calendar
Tell me you can foresee the coming weeks
Of better days without end
How quickly may we dismiss and forget
The past year
Will you be my reminder not to
Remember
Will you consent to be my kinder
Gentler future
Across the tossing tumult of reality
my brain gasps for truth, for freedom.
This inconvenient leprosy of mind,
whose scarred visage must be quelled.
My own reflection has no scars,
yet, all about are those that insist that ...
AH! What a perfect sunrise!
no secret concoction, no peering prying eyes
-hidden yawns or dulcet tones or pseudo smiles,
suggesting - DEMANDING I ...no, this day
I will go to where only God knows where I am.
I will dance with the forgotten frantic weeds
- spayed and sprayed, dandelions of disdain
live here unfettered
This house, neglected, forgotten in
a field of imperfection to those
who can not see what is perfect, is Heaven to me!
Apples with scarred blemished skins
beg to be loved - excused for
their imperfections shall
be my nourishment.
The passing of each day -
my romantic vision transformed,
my own pace, my own space, where
freedom hugs me, warms me, feeds me
and loves me
-sleep dear child, you are free.
I am found, but then, God always knew
...where I was.
Some days I fly like an eagle,
some days I waddle like a duck—
today I’m fried chicken
crispy, cold, out of luck.
Some days I run with wild horses,
some days I hunt with the wolfpack—
today I’m a belly-up snake
on asphalt cracked and black.
Oh, how I swam with dolphins,
struck like white sharks through foam—
today I’m gutted salmon,
smoked and salted far from home.
On the cutting stone.
Some days I prowl like a panther
through jungle thick and green—
today I am scraps for rodents
on a stranger’s kitchen floor unseen.
Some days I howl with coyotes
at moons both dark and bright—
today I’m roadkill possum
as vultures circle, rip and fight.
Now I feel like a broken song
my voice ground coarse and gray,
wondering what cruel appetite
has left me spayed flayed betrayed.
On the grinding stone.
It’s the hollowness of silence
when the wild has moved on through,
and you’re served up on life’s table—
nothing left that’s truly you.
It’s the break when seasons stagger
when the night gnaws through the bone,
the crack where time is splintered
and the sky abandons its throne.
On the whetstone
I lie between migrations—
wildness gone, yet not my own.
Not on my own, not on my own—
On the tombstone.
Caught within the fault-line
turning like a prayer all alone all alone... so alone.
Wait—
the Potter’s shaping stone.
This is just an update to those of you who love your pets!!
Not all the doctors are cruel hearted, greedy vets!!
I actually talked to a nice Doctor last night,
and at five o'clock my cat gave birth to five babies.
The lady took me at my word that I'll pay her tomorrow!
Four babies lived and my cat is now spayed and her babies lived.
All but, one. I actually helped revive the kittens with my sister.
This lady was so upset that she couldn't do anything at the clinic
she was "on call" for, that when she got home to her house she called.
She has her own practice at her house, and she feared my baby would die.
As did, I. So My cat, Maxine, who is named after my Grandma, is okay.
So is Lois and Quagmire, (Family Guy), and Emmet and Jasper. (Twilight)
So thanks everybody!!!! You guys are the greatest!!!!!
There lives a puppy named Weasel
She's almost big as a diesel
Artists paint her on their easel
She can be found digging up bones
Her heart is as wild as a deer
She's amazing - she's without fear
Her hair grows in spite of the shear
She eats so she may get gallstones
Her mind is stirred up by the cats
At night, she'll chase after the bats
I once caught her chasing the rats
She is spayed but still has hormones
Her time is spent near the river
Sometimes, she eats things like liver
Her soul is kind - she's a giver
On the web, she uses our phones
Her joy is found in hues of pink
She'll pick that one without a blink
If you pet her, she'll give a stink
Living with her gives me love tones
Her light falls soft on any heart
She's lovable, warm and so smart
Yet, she may smile, look up and fart
When she visits vets she gets cones
Her life has been one filled with hope
Mind, soul and spirit, she can cope
She is happy - won't ever mope
I promise, my heart, Weasel owns
Tall Tales 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser
April 6, 2022
Sirens sounded secretly securing source. Strait sacks swooshed scamps scaling sensitive sentries (simply spayed seals) surveying surrounding staked spy sotted sham semicircular slipshod shelter. Snappy, Snippy, Snoopy suited Skyhawks surprisingly swooped somnambulant senseless scriveners. Sargent Salemander slipped shiny shimmering shellacked Sheppards Shutterfly sidearms sized simulated small skyscraper slinky, soapy, spooky squarely summoned, sentenced, sacrificed see swarthy Samsonite satraps Section SpecialOps.
Sometime soon savior snuck stealthily stealing sinful schleppers. sundown syzygy saw serendipitous, surreptitious, surreptitious segue-way shuttled safely Scottish shoals. Stigmatization stayed steady. Supplication statements swatted. Sole survivor swiftly spun self shaming sesquipedalian soliloquy. Sea side serenade soon spewed solipsism saving Slim Shady.
Sayonara seminal surfer swirling scarily sans sinister serpentine silent space.
Inspired by Jan Allison's brilliant "Eye Rowed My Hoarse",
top winner of the July 2021 Word Play contest.
I'm knew to this language; it baffles me sew!
With so many mysteries I wish too no -
I came to this country wile seeking warm climb
but I get awl flustered when righting a rime.
Sea, homophones throe me, they drive me inn seine
each weak I fined gnu ones, their such a big pane.
That last couplet had maybe seven ore ate
(I red it allowed butt I cant keep them strait!)
Eyed herd that this language can be vary crewel,
two words sound alike but there meanings are duel.
They say it’s the most daunting language yule find -
two solve this wood take a reel lode off my mined.
If a rose is arose, then wheel call spayed a spade,
let a male be a mail, and a maid be a made.
A horse is a hoarse, but of course, but of coarse,
though the rules of rite spelling are hard to in force.
I've pulled sow much hare out, aye think isle go bawled -
I'm certain I've misspelled sum words eye just scrawled.
Its enough to make even the mightiest feint
but aisle martial my forces and rays no complaint.
If this struck a cord - if you feel up a creak
know you're knot a loan, yore dismay's not unique.
Perhaps it is fête that has shone us assign,
let's bye some pail ail aura glass of wight whine.
And pleas don't dessert me, I so knead ewe they're,
I still wont to learn how two wright with moor flare.
Buy now you've disk hovered I rote this ingest,
if ewe care to try won yourself, bee my guessed!