dog
all night long
dog
your old song
dog
all night long

how
your friends  
yelp
growl  howl
dog
your old song

dog
all night long
dog
mad decibel gall  
dog
your old song

dog
one pelts stone
dog
guard flings stick
dog
your old song

dog
your old song
dog
your old song
dog
all night long

run
dog
run
dog
run

early
tomo'
morn

dog
catcher
prowling

run
dog
run
dog
run

run
dog
run
dog
run

On street dogs, their liveliness and noisy spirit

He set a motion that tied the night
with a surge of peace through flight
A walk at pardoned him for this fight
the doorway sought now
as his fortune with the moon!

And a primal scream that retaliated fraught
but down by fairgrounds his doggy run
still furry friends rode in heat,
and they couldn't be sheep in these latitudes that wool adorn
when a caper was a precedent.

If ghosts perched upon the cases
where sprinkles attended from where they stay
but they must defame those breeds
with suggestive wiles they rehearsed.
furthermore their embrace did employ
what dignified lust was another cornflower day

Devin Ortiz Jun 7

I see all of the worst decisions I've ever made,
All of the wrong, that I have done.
It follows me, in the worst of ways.

But a dog, an especially this one,
This gentle, brindle soul.
Every bit of good I've ever done
Walks in each stride of her white paws.

The clouds of misery, which often find themselves
looming, in despicable ways.
Evaporate in the lick of a tongue on my cheek.
Or often, a toothy smile, which I do not deserve.

She is boundless, for who am I to contain her.

Ryan Holden Apr 29

Jasper my best canine friend,
I have a message to send,
Ears so big, fluffy and free,
Always put a smile on me,
Oval sandy rock eyes stare,
Fur as dark as a black bear,
Coat so shiny lions mane,
Spirit animal large chain,
Mischevious wagging tail,
Someone outside bark and wail,
Muddy prints from paws alike,
Not an aspect I dislike.

Poem about my big fluffy dog I love
Randy Johnson Mar 17

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.

Dhaara T Feb 4

Lara woke up with renewed zest
As she did every day
Concluding morning things
As she did every day
She waited by the window
As she did these past few days
Mark didn't return by noon
So she waited another entire day
The sun had visited and long gone
Darkness soon came to stay
Tired eyes filled with dried tears
Lara wondered why Mark went away
But soon, came Morpheus to divert her attention
Into sweet reveries of Mark, of happier days
Lost into temporal reality
As dusk progressed towards dawn
Found herself waking into Mark's sweet arms
the zest in her was reborn

PSR Nov 2016

Always faithful,
Always giving.
This treasure with a
Canine heart

Breeze-Mist Aug 2016

In today's complex world
Full of questions and hazards
Where some voices go unheard
And people have conflicting standards
Sometimes I wish
That for a little time
I could be less human-ish
And more canine

I could run like crazy
And bark like a dog
And after hours of playing
I'd skeep like a log

I could jump and yip
As a clever little fox
With agility and wit
I could skip over rocks

I could join the chase
As a strong hunting wolf
In an open, starry space
I could just howl and woof

Somedays I'd like
To be of genus Canis
For I'd enjoy being doglike
When humanity gets on my wits

Vyscern Jul 2016

Yeah I get it Woody
You fucking show off
You're a fucking archaeologist
Go dig up a new thing to impress me

So I see you love dogs?
What's a fucking wolf, moron?
"Uh I don't know isn't it a canine"
So too is a wolf
You love us?
Come get some

Your poetry is well known it seems... Is your asshole attitude well known too?
Epi Arias Jun 2016

The rooms never touch the sun of this house, And that’s a fine proclamation
As you wait for her with bated breath
By the elongated nose of the kitchen window.

You are humming steam along its transparency
While the naked web of your body
Scribbles that woman’s name
In strangely composed and idiomatic condensation.

Yesterday was longer than today.
You know this because your dog knows this.
And he also waits, but with elegant anticipation
By the window as he sniffs at the contorting sky lines
That run wildly across a spectrum of vanillas and blues.
(Vanillas and blues. Is that a song?)

Yet for all those shapes, colors, and undue eloquence,
It all seems so damn unnatural. Doesn’t it?
To wait, that is.
Doesn’t it seem mighty unnatural?

Here we are: humanity advancing to such a degree of refinement,
of relative diplomacy and cures and gas lights and jets and diodes,
where waiting is now a luxury,
A pointed star spinning, roulette-like Upon some oak or particle board table, Time, almost yawning at you,
While you sigh deeper than a well can go for a counterpart you should
be well without, biologically speaking.
Your human consciousness advanced to a point of sentimental distillation,
some smoky spirit drunk on itself
in stark contradistinction to
the primal reflex of
laying in wait,
the pouncing on the unsuspecting,
the feasting, the sustenance,
the action of blood, bone, and fear.

No. Now you and your pup
Wait by the window,
Domesticated into feeling items and complexes
Your canine teeth retracting ever more into your gums,
Your wild constitution disappearing into evolution’s wake
The hairs on your back becoming less alert by the day

Thumbing for the 11th time at Facebook statuses
And playing with squeaky turtle dolls –the dog, not you.
Your instincts either waning or transmuting into something you have yet to understand.

And all because you miss the wild chemistry of her scent,
The violence of her mouth
The expectant shift of her mercurial nature
The almost desperate cling of her wine-black hair.

You recognize this shift in humanity
As represented by you in this scenario,
But your watch is too tight against your wrist
To adequately hold your attention.

She may come back with the sun or
With that collapsing energy of void itself,
But you wait as if that woman has just left,
As if her footprints could actually be seen in the driveway. You both wait until the steam of both your breaths
cloud the kitchen window.

Next page