with one loud pop the electricity went out in our house
we live in an earth sheltered home and keep black blinds on windows
it was an instant cave, dark as coal and quieter than sleep
until the dogs woke up and began their loud, baleful howling
It is eerie in the dark when you live underground
And there is no light coming in; the best thing to do is sleep
Two dogs hit the bed the second I laid down
One weighs one hundred and twenty, the other weighs one hundred
We call them our pony dogs; I petted them both to console them
My husband slept through this storm, not hearing its fierce loudness
My eyes closed and I heard the dogs snoring; we were all safe.
Sleeping in a storm is the best kind of sleeping if you ask me.
Once, a little Spanish girl
was given a "regalo" -
a dainty little potted plant,
a purple-petaled mallow.
She set it in a sunny spot,
beneath a southern window,
re-housed it in an iron pot
and named it, "Don Galindo".
She gave it water every day,
and gave its loam a hoeing.
She talked to it and petted it,
and marveled at its growing.
Her plant rose tall and strong and fine,
rewarding all her labors:
"¡Te quiero!" sighed the little girl:
"¡Que raro!" cried the neighbors.
Joy never lasts, grief always comes,
said someone (maybe Byron?)
Galindo's roaming, ravenous roots
were hemmed-in by the iron.
The fine plant sickened and declined,
all hopes of salvage scuppered:
its lower parts, by steel confined,
could not sustain the upper.
And so, the moral of our tale -
resisting is not giving.
Do not preclude, prevent, prevail -
rigidity's all very well,
but soon turns heaven into hell!
Give in to me -
set us both free -
don't cramp or crowd -
things disallowed
can hardly go on living.
My father passed.
I wanted him to stay but god won.
I can’t complain.
We had him longer than we could have thought.
He was awesome!
He was my friend.
He was the best father a girl could have had
Right to the end.
I miss him so.
I cried so hard.
And then really loud, not me, but in my head.
He played for me our favorite piece Pachelbel’s Canon in D.
It was overloud but good.
It calmed me.
The music petted me and held me close.
Yes now, you know.
The undulating and waxing and waning.
High tide low tide.
This horrible necessary wave of knowing.
You want to so much, but you cannot hide.
Eventually this cruel acceptance slowly leaks inside.
And what’s left, I will take, the willingness to know.
That what I have left is the chance.
I might maybe see him again.
I can only hope.
Inspired by Beatles' song: "Leave My Kitten Alone"
(Recently edited. The last line got left off.)
You petted her, then got bitten.
Who said you could touch my kitten?
She doesn’t like you, can’t you see?
She’ll only roll her ball with me!
Your cat nip won’t even tempt her.
Back off. Take that stuff away, sir.
Buster, "leave my kitten alone."
Go and get a cat of your own.
They long to be catered, treated, and trimmed.
They are like mortals hungry for manicures;
Like house pets pleading to be petted.
Many lawns are in a state of harm,
hindered by downpours of rain.
They envy the flowers and trees,
who have escaped a late freeze.
But they are endowed with patience.
They know that it won't be long now
before they will grace the properties
and wave gingerly as the cars rush by.
Rescue haven, a stray little cat
front leg mangled, fur all matt.
No fluffy toy, this poor wee mite
eyes full of trust, denying his plight.
Minus his leg, fur closely shorn,
cuddled in blanket, cosy and warm.
Petted, pampered, he thrived and grew
soft velvet fur. A Russian Blue.
He rules the roost, this regal cat,
his lair… my bed, kingdom my flat.
Beautiful beast so much adored,
faith in this world, renewed, restored.
Fills up my life with sparkle bright,
just being near holds true delight.
My shadow now this ball of fluff,
his trusting eyes, reward enough.
ON THE LEDGE;
Hughes Turner Project HTP: Hughes/Turner/Di Cola
---------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes I lose my faith in heaven
Sometimes I lose my fear of hell
Sometimes I feel so lost
I don’t like to be petted or pitied
I yearn for night in day
I yearn for day in night
I am not confused
My dreams
Are as such, I don’t like to remember
Sometimes I feel I am on the ledge
Sometimes I feel I am all alone
Sometimes I feel I am losing the fight
I don’t like to live this way
I yearn to be saved, by You
I yearn to walk tall, by You
It is not much to ask,
My lord
Be mine, Be with me, Live me
Rekindle my faith in heaven
Renew my fear of hell
Calm me down, My lord
I like to sing your praises, Ever so
Make me strong
You cannot exist unless you have a gun
This is the Midwest
You might want to kill a deer
Or an enemy
Or an enemy’s kin
Or an annoying grouse
Get your gun
Let’s practice shooting
We can shoot out windows
Or doors
Or people’s cars
This is the Midwest, we will be forgiven
Everyone has a gun
We all wanted to be sheriffs back in the day
No one will worry or call us thugs
We will be “good old boys”
Petted and loved,
Admired for our viciousness
There is a squirrel
Kill that.
In the mountains, lived a special pup
He was gentle, kind and so amazing
His antics were true, never made up
My meals he was forever appraising
He often seemed to be star gazing
In the hills, where this guy was born
There lived a kitten with dark gray fur
He often felt her exasperating scorn
His life went by so fast, it’s such a blur
He’s the pup my heart will always prefer
In the times when he was so young
His gentleness caused me to smile
Admiration was always on my tongue
For he was a dog who was never hostile
He taught his friends how to live in style
In the moments, before he left this world
He gave a sigh and fell across my lap
I petted his fur, so very soft and curled
Remembering his fear of every thunderclap
He was full of love that I’d happily unwrap
In the mountains, beneath forest trees
Lived a pup who was wild and free
He listened but mostly did as he pleased
Sometimes, he’d sit and scratch a flea
But, always, he’d be right there for me!
Come one, come all, down to the Candy Cat Paw!
The most fabulous kitty store in old Arkansas.
We have Animal Twists and Meow Mix too.
Mom and Dad, there are kitties waiting for homes with you.
They are being weighed and petted around.
We’ll sell them to you cheaply, by the pound.
Come one come all, down to the Candy Cat Paw!
Sugar mice are free, down in old Arkansas
Woman’s Desire
What’s all this rigmarole and claptrap
About the man being the only one thinking of sex?
Well, truth be known,
A woman, skin deeply eager, thinks much of it too…
Once leaving the job, after
The shopping; the vaccuuming; the cooking; the pots,
Pans, and dishes; after the childrens’
Homework, meals, baths, and good-night kisses;
Once the cat and dog have gone out and in
Twice, been fed, and cooed over while petted;
After inquires about her spouse’s work, complaints,
And wishes; after the phone calls to people of concern;
After checking the bank account, new emails, and
Cleaning out her handbag; counting out lunch monies;
Preparing the morrow’s snacks and clothing; writing
The lists of to-do’s and schedules; and, preparing medications…
Afrter all that, following ten minutes of rest
In a cushioned chair,
Among the first wishes of her long-patient body,
Is for some time to linger, living
Pleasure’s words whispered by her passion’s tongue.
A woman desires to lay felt and feeling sensuously
With her beloved, warm and spent,
Close to sleep at her side.
——————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 9/16/2023
In an abandoned house,
Four kittens found joy.
Taken by two men,
One hid, longing for family.
Hungry, it stole a fish,
Chased by an angry shop owner.
Rocks thrown by children,
Escape led to a tall building.
Kind humans appeared,
Petted and fed with care.
But cruel hands emerged,
Thrown down, unable to walk.
Days passed in despair,
Until a rescuer came near.
Amongst other kittens,
Hope sparked for the disabled one.
A boy, with a shared fate,
Saw the kitten's pure heart.
The owner hesitated,
Until the boy revealed his own limb.
In that moment, a bond formed,
A home for both was found.
Together, they embraced,
A resilient soul and his human companion.
When her ewe Sally had twins, naming them was easy for Nelly.
They would either be Salt and Pepper or Peanut Butter and Jelly.
Her brother asked, "what about Jack and Jill or Bread and Butter?"
Nelly was irritated, he was bothering them; she ran to tell her mother.
Triplet lambs are rare, it only happens 2.3 percent of the time.
But Sally gave birth three times today, the neighbors all chime.
Huey, Dewey and Louie or Cat in the Hat, Thing One and Thing Two.
They were determined to help Nelly name them – red white and blue?
Nelly was excited by the baby lambs three.
She sat with Sally, and petted them, feeling carefree.
A photographer came by and took her photo; she was a beauty.
He suggested the names A, B, and C, as if it were his duty.
You petted me when I was sick.
You let me sleep in your bed.
But now I am feeling weak.
Without you it is hard to stand.
You brought me to this Heaven of yours.
You opened my eyes so I could see its doors.
But after many sunshines and after many rain pours,
I could see the lonely street where you left me and
The path it follows.
Now I don't wish to see that Paradise of yours again.
As I have no faith in it and would like to experience the pain in Hell.
The whole world has turned upside down to me-
The Heaven contains misery and Hell seems well.
Soft meow's
silent footsteps
"cautious"
as her tail wags
swaying back and forth
quiet purrs
muttered
rising hairs
lay down
when petted
lap cuddling
body rubs- galore
feeling comfortably
"loved"
she stretches her paws
Writing Challenge - Yalto Form - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
12/7/2022
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