Golden boy, my ray of sunshine,
You'll never know how much
Your radiance soothes my lows.
It seems so simple,
A furry back on my toes,
A lapping tongue, a wet black nose,
But you're so much more to me
Golden boy, my ray of sunshine,
And you'll never know.

My words are asphyxiating
           I cant understand
the weight upon me.

I didn't deserve this,
                   you kneel on
          me like a ill treated dog..


Do I bark, no..
                 I plead for your humanity,
but you just stare with emotionless eyes..

Who cares if I cant breathe, me..
           my family, a daughter ill never see,
                       but you just ignore...
Its not fair that I'll never hold her again,
              close to my slowing breath...

Could anyone help me, they just sleep..
   until I cant breath...

       Who cares if I cant breathe...
the flickering of racism shown
                   to burn brighter than my last breath..


I matter, I lived, i died. but know that i couldn't  breathe...
                                      and it matters, Mum.....

When I was a kid,
I had a labrador.
He was beaten, beaten his blood out of his face.
I wish I can help him.
But I was beaten too.
By my daddy,
sometimes by my mommy too.

I used to go to school
to escape the chaos in my house.
The school was worse.
They bullied me
throwing my water bottle away.
I was whipped for that.
For losing my water bottle.
The labrador used to stare at me,
he wishes he could help.
I went house
without pens, napkins,
torn notebooks,
sometimes torn uniforms too.
whipped, whipped, whipped
my childish pale flesh.

One day I walked to house
without a pencil eraser.
I was not sad.
I was not scared.
I got beaten a lot of times.
But-
I went house and saw
my labrador
dead.
I did not cry.
I accepted my quota of whips
and took a long walk outside.
I did not cry.

Jimmy had a dog named Barnaby.
He was just like one of the family.

He did what most good dogs do.
He kept Jimmy company, even ate his homework a time or two.

But no matter how hard Jimmy tried,
Barnaby would never, ever fetch a ball.

Oh, he typed, he vacuumed, even mowed the lawn,
Yet, wouldn't retrieve any stick at all.

This poem is not the more
traditional fare,
in fact, my humor can
actually scare,
Fartina is a twenty-five
pound, quite pooty dog,
most of the time her
poots make no sound,
But, trust me, your
olfactory sense will
know when she's around.

Debilitating flatulence
emits from her ***,
trust me, you'll run,
it isn't fun-
being in a room with her,
in fact, you'll cuss the little cur,
When salespeople come to
the door,
the only way to get them to
leave, for sure,
is to pretend Fartina is a
well mannered mixed breed,
then, when they pet her,
green clouds arise,
and their faces scrunch up,
no surprise.

She has her own waiting room
at the vet,
because her gaseous emissions
are the worst yet,
so, if you need to give your
in-laws the boot,
give Fartina a burrito,
they'll run, the old coots !!!!!

faithful eyes are restlessly observing the luminous night
an angeldog is sitting on the debris of a former court house
its silky fur is glowing while it is singing a song of the ancient
long mother tongues are licking up all of the words, greedily

the dog's night is a creature and it is alive, serious and cheerful
nobody will be able to spot it with the glimpse of humans
dogs can easily scent its traces, like foul fruits, grasping
animals can not talk but they sense way more than any human

science, arts, music are simply distractions from our inabilities
we have to assure us daily that we have a selective soul
that we observe and recognize the existing to recreate it
goosebumps are a replacement for our lack of scent

poems come, artists go, dogs are better off in silence
a dog's barking is nothing else but a distraction for us
we think we control pets, they know us better than we do
the dog's night is dark by now, asleep with one eye opened

Being naive is undeniably more blissful,
Better than this self aware nonsense

Some call him a ******* and others call him a ****.
But everybody hates that dog that's on Duck Hunt.
When you shoot at ducks but miss, that **** dog laughs.
It makes you so mad that you want to unleash your wrath.

I want to tell you about a discovery of mine.
I've learned how to shoot and **** that canine.
To get the secret, you'll have to pay me $29.99 but that's cheap.
People would pay $1000 to **** that dog because he's a creep.

Every time that dog laughs at you, it makes you shout.
But with my information, you can blow his brains out.
That pesky dog has laughed many times before.
But pay me $29.99 and he won't laugh anymore.