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snow queen Jun 2014
i love that you know i prefer
fairy lights over candles
and coffee over tea
and cats over dogs
        i love that you know all my details
        as if you made a map of the
        marks on my skin
        and traced them every day

(s.q)
CV Jun 2014
A name chosen well for you.
Every time I visited my friend,
your little feet would pit-pat-pit
right straight up to the door.
ESPECIALLY when mom came.

My friend was allergic, and
you absolutely loved my mom.
So we welcomed you with open arms
and very open hearts into our home.

When I first saw you in the house
it was strange, I wasn't used to hearing
your pit-pat-pit towards our door,
but it would be a sound that I would
give anything to hear one more time.

For six years you brought light into our house.
Sometimes you were so obnoxious,
and other days you were quiet as a mouse.
But no matter what, we loved you.

I watched you today, as the thunderstorm
went on. You were always afraid of them,
I needed to make sure you were okay.
I handed you food, your water dish,
you wanted nothing.

Then you were starting to pass.
My mother screamed and cried
as my brother and I tried to calm her.
She didn't want you to go.

But you had to.

Simple as that.

It was your time.

But we all weren't ready.

The last goodbyes were painful,
I've never seen my father cry like that.
Neither my two brothers, but I guess
that's how important you were
to each and every one of us.

And you lived up to your name.
You lived up to it, to the very last moment.
I love you little dude, and I'll miss you.
Rest in peace buddy.
(I put a trigger warning for death right at the title in case, I didn't want someone to go through the whole poem to find it right at the end.)

RIP Rascal, you were the best dog I've ever known.
2005-2014.
Sandra Hughes Jun 2014
My dog has written a poem
She penned it with her paws
She sends emails and closes documents
By licking my laptop with her big slobbery tongue!

Copyright Sandra Hughes 2014 All Rights Reserved
Just playing around with a different style
Brycical Jun 2014
Brisk--
a slight whisp of northern wind
rustles rainbow dewdrop grass,
around me, blooming trees
breathing deeply inward,
their fresh foliage is an assortment
of all green hues, a relief
from the freezing, chill drab grays of winter...

Dandelions splotch [arts of the grass--
nature's lazy Jackson Pollack homage.

The sun seems brighter,
the lighting a stereotypical 1950's Leave It to ******-esq TV show.

Here I sit,
wearing all black under a tree;
the only thing colorful about me is the gold writing
on this Pilot jet black pen dribbling these words
in gooey black ink.

I woke feeling uneasy & forlorn,
like rising from a haunted bed.
Not sure why...

Even the dogs in this park trot
with brighter velocity.
A small grey/brown Scottie yipps at me,
as if letting everyone know I'm an anomaly
on this otherwise perfect day.

Part of me wants to scream
at all the people in their colorful neon running garb
or shimmering salvation Sunday cloth,
but another part just wants to jam this pen
through my ******, straight into my heart
& let the ink & my crimson, iron-rich blood seep
into the ground,
because those are the closest feelings
I've found to express something there are no words for.

Sounds like it might be one of those angsty
cloudy type days.
Raphael Uzor May 2014
"Dogs are man's best friends"
So he ignored the "woof! woof!!"
... now, gunshots sound... "WOOF!!!"
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