Ode to a Duck
(inspired by a story of a kid and his duck)
I like ducks they go quack
I like them all as a matter of fact
Daffy and Donald are my favorite two
I like ducks, do you?
They keep the garden free from bugs
The gross thing is, they eat slugs
A little baby duck waddled my way
Snuggled up close and there he stayed
I named him crackers because he ate all mine
He’d swim in the dogs dish all the time
He jumps on the chair sits next to me
Eats my popcorn and watches tv
The dog doesn’t like him, neither does the cat
He chases them both going quack, quack, quack
Now he grown and must behave
Because he’s a daddy with three little eggs
I have a puppy who loves to run and jump.
I have a Chihuahua that is named Trump.
He was born on the 14th of January and he's special indeed.
I now have two Applehead Chihuahuas, that is their breed.
Trump is some feisty and he's as cute as he can be.
He is my new pet and he means a great deal to me.
It's nice to have two dogs that are purebred.
I love both of my Chihuahuas who are Appleheads.
You'll never have known a love so true
than the love of a dog when he loves you
The wag of his tail that wags just for you regardless if your happy or blue
He'll greet you every morning and stick to you like glue
He'll follow you around as though you are brand new
He'll never tire or get bored of his lot
For in his mind he's hit the jackpot
Cuddles on the sofa or walkies in the park
Curled up by the fire after a scrub in the bath
He doesn't care for material gain
He'll forgive you quick and he'll ease your pain
He'll look at you with love
best mates you'll forever remain
If he sleeps on his back with his legs sprawled in the air
You know he feels safe and loves his place
He doesn't feel vulnerable or insecure with you
He knows you're always there picking up his poo
He may be cheeky and he may be rude
But when it comes to the important stuff he's the coolest dude
It’s tough to write a happy poem.
The poems about the nasty,
Gut wrenching stuff-
I got it down.
But a happy poem?
That’s gonna be weird.
I think it’s because growing up,
In the home and life I did,
I learned not to hold on to the happy stuff.
To not feel the good feelings for too long.
The happy moments were far and few in between,
And when I had them I was scared to enjoy them,
For fear that enjoyment would be taken advantage of,
When I felt happy moments,
I did my best to hide and push them away.
There were moments though,
Where amidst all the pain and suffering,
There were moments I was brought comfort.
There were moments that made me want to live,
Want to go on,
Search for something better.
These moments were brought by two furry ears,
Eyes with the closest shade to my own,
And a long furry tail.
Yea, I’m talking about my cat.
And now the poem has taken a sharp turn from meaningful,
To just absurd.
That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?
Dude, this chick wrote a poem about her cat.
Her fucking cat.
These moments aren’t when my cat was being funny,
There are a lot of those memories that I enjoy.
These moments are the ones where I’m sitting on the stairs,
My hand pressed to my mouth,
Suppressed sobs shuddering through my body.
She hates us,
She hates me.
She doesn’t deserve any ounce of pity from me,
I meant every word I said.
You know that’s not true,
She is your daughter,
You should care.
You can’t just freeze her out,
She isn’t one of your old college friends,
She needs you.
She doesn’t need me,
She doesn’t want me,
And I don’t want her.
You know what,
I can only hold on to the hope that she was lying.
But even in those darkest moments,
Listening to my Dad try to defend me,
Just to give up and walk away.
Listening to my Mom,
Throw my name around in the mud,
And stomp all over it in her New Balance Sneakers,
Canni was there.
Animals have a queer way of being there right when you need them,
And Canni is one of the best.
She’d sit there patiently,
While I willowed away into nothing,
Biting feelings of pain,
Echoing in my head.
Those feelings took me down,
To a deep, dark place,
Where there was no feeling.
No feeling happy,
No feeling sad,
No feeling hurt.
There was no feeling at all-
It was safe.
But she brought me back.
She’d rub against me,
Nudge her head under my hand,
Nip at my arm if I didn’t pay attention to her,
Or even just sit there next to me.
She’d listen with me,
Her tail flicking back and forth,
Like she couldn’t believe what was going on either.
Maybe she was trying to distract me,
Maybe she just wanted attention.
She made me care when I had nothing left to care for.
She gave me something to hope better for,
Gave me something to work harder for,
Something to get me moving out of the dark,
Hopeless place that had become my heart.
If not for me,
Then for the small animal,
That cared enough to know when I was happy,
And when I was sad.
My cat is the reason that I know love today,
The reason I have feeling today.
And for that,
I can’t thank her enough.
Today I watch your eyes fade to black
Today I listen to your final whispered silence
Today I feel your body sleep it's final rest
Today I loved you as your peace came
Today I release your soul to be young again
Today I set your spirit free to run joyfully again
Today I will be strong for you
Today I will cry for you
Today I will smile for you
Today I will remember you
Today I put the end in a box and gave you the gift
Written by Victor Timmons 12/5/2016
Your ears are like black silk
Your tail is long and proud
Your paws are white as milk
Your fur is as fluffy as a cloud
Right foot, left foot, right
Up and down on my chest
By my side all through the night
Helping me to get my rest
Your nose against my cheeks
Wiping away my tears
Side by side for 512 weeks
Companions for over 10 years
Sniffing your neck is comforting
I don't wanna live without that
Without you I will be suffering
Figaro, my beloved cat
Perspective is strange,
many a range,
like when I see Poppet the puss
my joy soars with bliss,
sweet tabby cats don't come much better than this;
I want to hear you purr,
you ace stripy rocket,
I love you lots, Poppet.
But then, to mice it's,
Is that terror getting near
should we plan a run,
torturing us to death
is her idea of fun,
she'll wreak with clawing havoc
& deadly feline mirth,
she'll eat us as she's smiling
& extinguish us from earth;
you're toxic, Poppet.
The juxtapose of difference
stampeding in the air,
to one she rests in bed,
to others coiled in lair.
i took them for granted.
they way he would set them on my foot,
while i sat on the couch
and he was on the floor.
tap, tap, tap.
no begging, bandit.
i took them for granted.
i'd do anything,
tap, tap, tap.