Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Riley OHalloran Mar 2019
The cough in my throat turned into a sandpaper burning sensation,
and yet I sang so loud today that someone complimented me.
Nothing will keep me silent, but I know you want it.
Every cough is an abrupt clap of the vocal chords:
that's what a voice teacher once told me,
and I can feel how right they are every time I cough
and feel like my throat is burning and bleeding all at once.
I want to not do anything with my throat except sing,
not cough, not breathe, not swallow,
just sing, loud enough that you can't help but hear.
I have no self-preservation, but who are you to call me out?
Catherine Graham Jun 2015
Bed is the target
Not my bed
That's on the floor
And its a bit mishapen

Its covered in fur
And its got hidden biscuits
And a bone I put there
But can't get out now

No, my bed isn't the target
Its YOUR bed that's the target
The one with the douvet, the pillows
and fluffy, fluffy sheets

Its got a big springy mattress
And it looks nice sometimes
When its all covered in
MY paw marks

But it doesn't smell nice, though
Its smells of flowers
I would like it better
If it smelled of fox poo

But after I roll in the fox poo
You never let me on the bed
So how am I going to get it
to smell nicer

That's what I think about
When we're out on a walk
And you throw the ball
And I ignore it, and go for a roll

I roll in squirrel poo
Not as nice fox poo
But I make it nicer
by jumping in the river

You think a quick shower
with the garden hose
Will dissipate all these lovely smells
But you forget the shampoo...and I WIN

I get in the house
Dry myself on YOUR dressing gown
But still I smell
absolutely lovely

Like lamp posts, and drains
And bins
And that really nice smell
When I've been running in the wind

And no one's locked the bedroom door
So I run and I jump
And I roll and I roll
On YOUR bed

For five whole minutes
Then I hear you coming
Slowly stepping up the stairs
So I jump off your bed

Then jump into mine
Then wait and wait and wait
Then suddenly you jump up
And leave

I've no idea where you go all day
No idea, at all
But you've got a sneaky idea
Where I am

You know I'm on your bed
You know I'm making it smell lovely
Just for you when you come home
Hope you appreciate it.
Lots of Love From Your Dog
This is a poem about a dog who likes beds and smells.

— The End —