Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Blossom Jan 2019
I know the process
Doesn’t make it easier
It starts off with shock
Then leads to red anger
I’ll bargain for peace
Till I sink to depression
And hopefully by the end
I’ll have found some acceptance
I know the process
Doesn’t make it easier
I still feel the sharp pain
Since life's been taken from her
Maya Minion died 1/17/2019 at 3 years old. It hurts, she was still a baby.
Shlomo Jan 2019
And...it's here. A future. Agile? I was not enough to be.

Black in it's entirety. A new beginning and a new me.

Clockwork. As though a plan hatched by some supreme being.

Dear dog, which came first? Was it the white or the black?

Either way, it effortlessly taints your profoundly glorious genes.

**** this! Atrocious. Drugs?!

Goodness me. How did we get to this?

Horrible, dehumanising, and it's here to stay.

"It suppresses". But really only in the mildest of ways.

Just to remind you of the control you once had.

Killed! And now ceded in it's entirety to a tad bit of a fad.

Let me just turn back the hands of time! 

My fate I leave with you alone. 

Nothing seems to relieve this pressure and irreparable pain. 

Oh God! Could I be spared such a destiny?

Prayers.

Queuing from my heart to yours. 

Respectfully admonishing your power and grace. 

Simply, do I ask for that childlike sense of serenity.

To take me to a place of restoration and hope. 

Unlock my mind. Repair my soul. For vaults of this kind are too strong.
Audio Narration @ https://anchor.fm/shlomotion/episodes/A---U-e30cvh
Breanna evans Jan 2019
not a day goes by
shenanigans don't see her
in some kind of trouble
honestly don't know what to do with my pup at times. She's a quick learner, but she's just sooooooooo hyper!

always into something
Shlomo Jan 2019
And…it’s here. A future. Agile? I was not enough to be.

Black in it’s entirety. A new beginning and a new ending.

Clockwork. As though a plan hatched by some supreme being.

Dear dog, which came first? Was it the white or the black?

Either way, it effortlessly taints your profoundly glorious genes.

**** this! Atrocious. Drugs?!

Goodness me. How did we get to this?

Horrible, dehumanising, and it’s here to stay.

“Suppresses”. But really only in the mildest of ways.

As if to constantly remind you of the control you once had.

Now ceded in it’s entirety to a tad bit of fad.
https://anchor.fm/shlomotion/episodes/A-G-e2vrkn
Katy Jan 2019
We both have this need for attention - to be loved
Being alone absolutely terrifies us
Yet we're content being alone together

He understands rules and knows how he should behave and so do I
However, we both falter at times - we can be a bit too much for some

I have sat and wondered endlessly about these things trying to figure out how we could be nearly the same
With the answer in front of me the entire time

Our pasts have shaped us
Both of us were left behind by the people we loved the most
We trusted them and they tossed us aside
The trauma of being thrown away and withered down made us who we are
*Finley is my dog*
They say I am a third world soldier.
They say I should be a proud warrior,
I am the protector of the mass, guardian of freedom and order
My job is from the centre to the border.
But, all I do is **** and die for the master.

I feel like a hunter's dog,
Only, the hunter is my government.
I ****, ****, ****, I die.
In the name of the law, in the name of freedom and order,
I draw blood.
I draw red blood, dead blood, innocent and guilty blood.

Master gives me bones of the dead, they call them medals.
Master floats on the river of blood.
Oh! I am a warrior, I am a dog.
I tried to follow the style of Pedro Pietri.
Petri Kiukkonen Jan 2019
It's the shadow that follows --
It's the brooding moor
That's all that awaits
Beyond every door

Like a strong current
That pulls under ice
Like coal-hued clouds
Blocking the skies

The black dog
The dark hound
The soul fog
The void's sound

A figure, cadaverous,
With Anubis' head
A personal Cerberus
Guarding the dead

A dawn that won't break
A tunnel without ends
A room with no doors
Unmakeable amends

The black dog
The dark hound
The soul fog
The void's sound
Debby Pierre Jan 2019
dear Archie,

you are the highlight of our lives.
you lovingly give out hugs and cuddles.
you snuggle with your blanket and look like an angel.
even when you run into the house from the yard with mud and dirt and grime clinging to your face and your tongue out in a smile.
your ears perfectly frame your face and you're adorable when you put one up.
you curiously tip your head to the side, even as I am writing this with you in my lap, to the sound of a clicking keyboard.
you're very much obsessed with blankets, although you have taken a newfound liking to your bed, labeled Archie.
you have quite the personality, let me tell you.
you, just today, refused to put your harness and leash on to let us take you on a walk.
you felt bad about what you did, so at dinner, you sat beside me and waited for me to tell you you were Good Boy. as predicted, you got what you wanted.
when I walk downstairs in the morning, you're either sleeping in the bed (with Banky, of course), or snuggling with Mama or Daddy.
when I leave for school, you say bye to me at the door.
when it's time for me to come home, you look out the window for me.
you even watch our soap operas. what dog can do that?
you are basically the perfect dog anyone could ever ask for.
Next page