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Peter B Feb 4
Sometimes I want to own her,
but then I realize
that we simply can't own someone,
who is the owner of our heart.
Bardo Aug 2018
I do not wish to suffer but suffer I
   must
Cursing my ill luck and the mad
   excesses
Of a selfish insensitive owner
Obsessed with destruction, both mine
   and his;
Occupying a spot here in the High
   Street
Opposite the Courthouse and its
   official Clock
An eyesore, a common talking point
Squeezed between more fashionable
   premises
Which seem always to frown and
   grimace
Expressing major reservations,
   unambiguous opposition.

Housing curios, oddments and
   selected modern junk
We sell little, our few customers
   dribbling in
Only to supplement their journeys
   while waiting on the bus
Or to eye with a morbid curiosity
That sickly creature seated behind the
   counter
My luckless tyrant of an owner
Against whom all conspire
Who seriously in debt, is helpless,
   cannot pay up
Hounded interminably by mysterious
   moneylenders
Who after giving a little now expect a
   whole lot in return.

With fuel running low for my boiler
My heating system, it is unreliable
Volatile, treacherous in Winter
My ventilator rusted through
Erratic at best, chronic in Summer
The damp in the walls and ceiling
The dry rot, the wallpaper peeling
Encouraged by years of neglect
Of being used, unscrupulously
   tampered with,
In need now of meticulous care and
   attention.

My owner truly a derelict, a dissipated
   soul
Spending more time in the cellar with
   a bottle
Than on any other shop floor level
(Among his friends, the mice, the
   cockroaches and spiders)
Who trying to stay awake, eventually
   must capitulate
Caught by that Ghost Ship that drifts
   slowly North
To where the icebergs loom large and
   ominous out of a damning fog
It's compass frozen, it's wheel
   unmanned
Nothing but shadows and wind in the
   rigging
As he floats off into oblivion, off the
   edge of the earth
Where exist such shapes that can
   never be said.

                               II

Is peculiar though, my owner
At times displays a certain poise and
   grace
Hinting at a time in the not too distant
   past
Which was not altogether bad or
   harmful
But unusual as it might seem
Was quite on the contrary, fruitful !!
Him featuring as being both proud
   and distinguished
Far removed from today's pitiful
   wretch
Whose solitary doubts and fears have
   all but taken over.

And maybe I do find it hard to
   sympathize
I after all being the one offered up
   now in sacrifice
Him there with little joy, love or hope
With only complaints and grievances
   mounting up
Filed away in offices at City Hall.

                                 III

Whereupon the hour, every  hour, the
   Courthouse Clock it chines
Ever vigilant, ready to track it's quarry
   down
Where in the corridors of power this
   very moment
City fathers, town planners and
   architects have gathered
To discuss whether our future lies in
   this town
To argue out the case, the for and the
   against;
While below the vile demolition man
   he stalks my borders
With his heart of ice and ghastly  
   drunken laugh,
No! I do not wish to suffer
Indeed, I wish I could be like any other.
A slice of the macabre. Was written after reading a biography of Edgar Allen Poe/which had an affinity with my own life at the time. The Shop is the Body who berates its dissolute owner (the dissolute Soul), bemoaning its fate. There's a whole host of characters here, the Demolition man is Death, the City fathers etc are the gods etc, the boiler is the heart, the ventilator the lungs, the Courthouse is Conscience/ Judgement, whatever ???, the Ghost Ship the dreams/ nightmares ;I love creating worlds where you can set the rules, it's up to you to put a label on things 'cos I'm not sure myself.
Cat Lynn Nov 2017
There he is, my little baby boy, his fluffy ****** fur spiked out in all directions.

His eyes, like coco powder surrounding a drop of pure vanilla. They are so big and heart catching I have to mention.

His spiraled tail laid over his back and spread out like a fire work. Curly and a sandy color, it stands out against his Gingerbread coat.

His tiny, dainty, quick moving paws always in a scurry as he races to his little window, barking in a  high pitch squeal, his spirit always in a float.

His fur flows in a fluffy rustle when he stands outside to strut his pride, his little mocha mountain peaks alert and doesn't miss a single action.

He walks like the world revolves around him, he runs for nothing but his own fancy desires, He flaunts his cute looks, with the sway of his tail and barks at other dogs just to get a good reaction.

His white furred lips speak of whimpers and pleads to me whenever I'm down,  He lays over my arms when I type, sick of not being the center of attention.

He allows his two back legs to fly behind him when he kicks in demand. He bangs his two front paws to the ground when he's frustration for not getting his way. There's too much tension.

I can't help but to laugh at the pathetic adorable soul! Thinking he can live his spoiled "perfect" worry-free life forever.

But even the greatest break, people wear a mask, and so do dogs! He pretends he doesn't need any body. He think's he's so clever!

Behind that perfectly circular face of fluff and eye seeking attention, is a heart of fear... There is no drop of bravery within him...

As his mother, as his human, as his owner I feel his fear, for we both fear the same thing... The higher authority, our changes to them are dim...

When he is around them, his tail hangs low to hide it's spark, his shiny wondering eyes look down in shame of his small size and courage.

His mountain peeks collide in an avalanche. They lay back and hide their mighty heights. His hopefulness for joy could not flourish...

His eyes water up like a river from a down pour... have you ever seen tears pour from a dogs eyes at a constant rate? I have...

His pride as an Alpha was only an act, his true identity is all omega, his mind and heart have been split into halves...

He's high pitch but low noted howl does not ring when he is in the state of depression as omega. He instead taps his two little light paws against my chair as I sit...

I look down and sadly sometimes I ignore him. My mind already in a struggle. But the little one is wise as well. He'll kick his back legs and howl to catch my attention and throw a fit!

He knows I need his little fluffy sweet comfort, and he needs my warm embrace and my soft lap.

The only time he always look so content and happy is when I hold the little dear and he purposely falls backwards so I may hold him like a baby, an opportunity I have to grab

He has a big smile on his soft furry face, his eyes pleasantly closing, his body pliable and limb.

You would think he was fake by the peaceful contentment on his face, his little black paws up in the air, so many adore him

Only because of his physical appearance, not because of the longing to change sweet hearted Pomeranian from within

When I set him down, the peace instantly breaks, his happiness is shattered, his nose sniffing up at me in disbelief, he needs thicker skin.

Munchkin... you had two owners before us, the first one threw you out of the car in front of a pet store...

The other locked you up in your cage for too many helpless countless hours... you remember this for sure.

The Lord is merciful... for we have came to the rescue, your soul is now being built back up... we promise we won't abandon you. I won't abandon you...

If only you knew how the Lord has used you in my life... The blessing you have been. This owner ship refuses to move.

You are my sweet Pomeranian Munchkin... and I am your owner
Have No Fear Little Fluff.. Have No Fear  

*I love you <3
Thank you Lord for using Munchkin to teach me to control my anger, to train me for the future, for being such a loving comfort, for the bond me and my little boy share, and for using him to open my eyes more to your mercy's and abundant grace.  I know I don't deserve anything  at all. Praise You Lord.
David P Carroll Sep 2016
Our Hearts Together
My love for you is so utter true love
From deep inside my sorrow heart I could never explain why I truly love you and how truly deep the love inside me is your one of a kind in life I cannot stop thinking about your warm honest heart I think about you and it makes my heart smile I'm truly grateful to have a wonderful women as bright beautiful like you in my life when I sad and lonely feeling down
I stop and think about you my heart smiles and beats of true love and utter happiness so glad
When I think about you my true love our hearts where ment together mine beats love yours beats happiness together forever in each other's hearts and we shall never be torn apart my true love.
David P Carroll
True love
Bas Aeon Apr 2015
No label

No commitment

No contact

No communication

None of it

Four years have passed

You remain intact in my heart

I can’t find myself unloving you

Loving you mean everything to me

There is no one that completes me the way you do

It may sound silly and stupid for staying in love and faithful

But that gives me courage, strenght and happiness to keep on fighting

Though i don’t know

If i will ever have another oppurtunity

To experience our paths crossing again

But i will always be here

Waiting for you

To come back home to me

Because your home is with me In my heart
My home is with you
Dr zik Mar 2015
You are in my conscious, hope, unconscious, wish, doubt
Your existence unshakable, hidden, obvious
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
Hidden in the core of heart, Owner, Tenant You!
Your Messenger has granted me such a caring light
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
You are with me O’ my Lord! soul speech is You!
Send is You receive is You, dealt and deal is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
A call arose in my heart; go towards the Lord!
A wondrous way started: soul; attracted by You!'
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
You made me conscious of day; it’s prime of life
You are recognizer Lord; sign and soul is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
To my mind there is only You; so seeking You!
How could I lose my Lord? Where? nowhere You?
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
I am feeling felt is You; deal and done is You!
I am fan and fun is You; all and One is You!
                                         Start is You and end is You, yes and no is You!
A translation of my own poem written in Urdu language. The name of book is "RAH TAKTI AANKH (راہ تکتی آنکھ)"
I sat down to a puzzle
When my dog came for a nuzzle
And I gave a small scratch behind the ears
I moved on to the telly
And he lay down on my belly
And we both fell fast asleep after two beers

It seems while I was dreaming
That I heard somebody screaming
It was just an advert on tv
The dog got down real quickly
I thought he might be sickly
It turns out that he only had to ***

I went back to watch footy
And then some "sweep and sooty"
Then the wife came in and asked me where's the dog
I said he's out the back dear
All is fine, no need to fret dear
"Then why is he there chewing on a frog?"

I said I knew no reason
I didn't know frogs were in season
And I went outside to go wash out his mouth
He didn't like the feeling
In fact he was reaching for the ceiling
And that is just the time that things went south

He chose right then to *****
It came up just like a comet
The beer, a bone, and two thirds of a frog
I knew that he felt better
My dumb old Irish setter
This is just a day of living with a dog
preservationman Jun 2014
The pages seemed to come alive
I tell you this and it is no jive
The story capturing an old man and a house
Somewhere in the story it also involves a mouse
The story begins with a sunrise
No idea what the day will be so it is a surprise
The old man is a retired Lumberjack
He would be chopping lumber to build houses
But the old man certainly was never alone
At least this is what the house had shown
There was always this mouse
The mouse seemed to be a companion in the house
The mouse would often sit by the old man
There seemed to be an understanding and no command
The mouse was always given some cheese
The old man made the mouse feel like he was his squeeze
The old man would often talk to the mouse
It was always the old man’s words throughout the house
Then one night a big Thunderstorm came
The storm was like battle stations ready to take aim with all the thunder, lightening and rain
The moon seemed to be given a vacation as a shade among the clouds
A theory of the night
The heavy fog that blocked out sight
Yet the mouse showed no fright
The old man felt he wasn’t going to make the storm his plight
He didn’t want to feel uptight
The mouse knew how to keep the old man calm and suddenly not alarm
Well the storm finally passed by
It was courage in the old man’s try
That old man and his house
Being together including a mouse
A house built for more than just one, and a creation of a foundation being done.
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