Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tizzop Jan 30
in the middle of nirvana, ashima wakes up
she doesn't know how she reached this sphere
full of silver lights and black silhouettes
everyone she knows seems to be present

greyly shimmering leaflets are floating
through the air, gently, like mist
and red fireflies are clapping their wings
the crowd of shadows is starting to sing:

"ashima, you have come a long way to us
we are the voices of nirvana, listen
nirvana is the deep core of your soul
the land of your most secret wishes

sometimes, in your dreams, you reach out
when you are waiting for a train and the
rays of the sun are reflecting your thoughts
you never find us but we know where you are

you may call us your wishes, we belong to you
as ****, as branko and your mom do
are you the imitation of your dreams, ashima?
or do your dreams imitate you, our girl?

certainly, you will become the thing you dread
we know that you took revenge recently
when you were slashing the *******'s throat
as his blood was slowly flowing into the sheets"

in the middle of her apartment, ashima wakes up
she becomes aware of a crinkled and dark leaflet
it is more than twenty years old, informing about
something that ashima can not read anymore

the letters on the leaflet have become dust
ashima is taking a deep breath and sighs
her pitbull branko is strolling towards her
his wet tongue, ashima thinks, feels cute
Tate Jan 2020
I've doubted your passion towards me in the past
my faith in the past
my faith in our permanence was dwindling fast
But as days go by,
you drift closer to me
and it's easier to see
how compassionate you truly can be
I'd don't want to have your babies
I'd don't want to get married
but I could see getting a dog with you
I found this poem. I wrote it this summer in a notebook I bought just to wrote it into. I loved that **** individual. But we have gone our own ways, and he never knew I wrote poems about things like this.
LaDawn Oct 2018
Hi! So here's a small little story to make up for my absences.

So At the age of 7 I was living with my, and he's and amazing dad, but alcohol is a thing in his life. In fact sometimes it seems like it the only thing her truly cares about.
When I was 7 I had a dog, He was a pit bull, and this was when the whole 'blame the owner not the breed thing was happening', Anyways he was my best friend. I'm sure most of us where weird children, but i still was pretty out of the norm, and he was the only one i could really call a best friend.
My step mom had found a stray dog one dad after work. It was storming and cold...Ironic right?
She decided to let the stray dog in, he was sweet nice and our dog was okay with him. My dad just happen to have too many beers that night. He didn't think about it when our dog was smelling the stray so he spanked the dog with a wooden spoon and then he put our dog in my room. That was normal the dog in my room, I was told to go to bed for yelling at him.

The next morning I did what I've always done, I got ready for school, which consisted of getting dressed, making breakfast, etc, and hugging and kissing my dog goodbye until i came home at 2:35 pm, That morning I didn't make it to school. I never got to leave the house except for when my step mom, and dad had to carry me to the car on the way to the hospital, with a ****** rag on my face. That rag had held my face together, My dog had mauled me, and when I woke after hours of surgery, I found that he was out down. MY dad couldn't forgive himself, and he couldn't forgive the dog so he made the decision to put our best friend down...
I'm not petrified of dogs, I'm just wary. I know my limits and I know how to read everything including animals a lot better than I did.
Warning if you have problem with alcohol, or pit bulls and that whole situation...This is not for you.
So is my dog god
as I have ordained
or am I a madman,
absolutely insane?  
       His birth name is Domino
       he picked it himself...
       a black and white pit
       pup he jumped
       on a shelf and
       down came the bones
       that anointed him so.  
Domino Dominus
both names mean
but to me he's
a best friend and
sometimes my dog.
My Bubba.....what would I do without him.
Willow Jul 2018
Inka, I want to thank you for being my support dog in a way. Sure you were never trained but you have always been there when no one else was. You were the reason I'm still here today.
You have seen me happy, angry, sad. You have seen my break downs, my purging moments and my cutting sessions. You have seen it all. You are now 6, I can't believe it. You have grown so much. I sound like a mother, but it would be like I am losing my baby, my everything. I am laying here with you, my big chocolate covered marshmallow telling you I love you. I wish that you could stay longer on earth, but humans don't deserve dogs.
You are an angel and angels are too pure to live on this cruel world for too long. I hope you stay with me after though, I hope you will always be my little couch potato with me. Sure you could be in dog heaven too, but I will always have popcorn for you so win win, right? I don't know what I would do without you. I know I would be the biggest cry baby ever, and you won't be there to lick my tears away. I don't know why people say Pitbulls are the worst dogs because I think you are one of the best. I hope when I die, I will be with you. I remember when we first got you, you would **** so much I had a clip with me all the time to clip my nose. Oh, and you pooped on my brother's shoes, I knew I was going to love you when you did that. Thank you for being my thing to hug because I always felt I was going to break down in front of someone if I hugged them, but with you I didn't care. Thank you for being my warmth and pillow at night. Thank you for licking my tears away. Thank you for keeping a smile on my face. Thank you for being my little bit of happiness. Thank you for being my dog. You will always be on my mind and in my heart. My big chocolate covered marshmallow, Inka.
Victor Timmons Jul 2016
Born at night by the discarded mom
Loving and caring life was good
My brother and sister fun abound
Until the day that man came around

Eyes bright seen the light
Eyes red that man beat my head
Eyes filled with hate is this my fate
Eyes go grey he has nothing to say
Eyes no sight he made made fight

New life with the man of pain
Running for hours I don't feel sane
Pull on the rope makes me strong
Hit me and beat me I wish to belong

Eyes bright seen the light
Eyes red that man beat my head
Eyes filled with hate is this my fate
Eyes go grey he has nothing to say
Eyes no sight he made me fight

Teach me to **** with out a care
Throw me a cat or dog, hate
Maybe after the fight, love
Into the pit this is findly it

Eyes bright seen the light
Eyes red that man beat my head
Eyes filled with hate is this my fate
Eyes go grey he has nothing to say
Eyes no sight he made me fight

He grabbed at my head I tore off his ear
We fought in the pit as they cheered
As we fight it soon becomes clear
Lost, look of disgust, my end is near

Eyes bright seen the light
Eyes red that man beat my head
Eyes filled with hate is this my fate
Eyes go grey he has nothing to say
Eyes no sight he made me fight

Who is born just to hate
What did I spill my blood for
When I lost I was thrown away
Why did my life have to be this way

Eyes bright seen the light
Eyes red that man beat my head
Eyes filled with hate is this my fate
Eyes go grey he has nothing to say
Eyes no sight he made me fight

Being loved was not meant for me
Death of a fighting dog
Love I hardly remember
Death of a fighting dog
Pain, hate, **** or be killed is what he wanted
Death of a fighting dog

Written by Victor Timmons
spysgrandson Oct 2015
tufts of grass stand in the yard  
hairy green patches of tenacity
in a field of neglect

half a screen guards
a **** stained door where
someone painted, 214

the pit bull sits behind it
waiting to be fed, and to be
chained again to the stake

where, like any beast bound
by gravity and the grave, he will
make ceaseless circles  

smaller  e a c h  day,  
unwitting sentry to those
two legged creatures

who, with or without
the pit, lie prostrate, in dreamless
bug rich beds    

when they fall
from sleep, they too make circles
bound by stakes and chains…

though their pull is felt
and their infernal rattle heard
no matter how far from home
the prisoners of Tulip roam
rewrite from years ago

— The End —