"domesticating" poems
Where do I begin?
to take this miscarriage of thought
and feeling
from my reeling mind to the calm accepting page
where do I begin?
shall I attempt to harness the beast
which dwells within
bridling the pain and upset of life
domesticating it and making it my own
or do I begin again?
to exorcise that pit of my soul
to reach into the cold dark chasm
binding that which haunts me to the sacrificial language
placing it upon the alter as a gift
a barter for redemption
where do I begin?
to understand
this beautiful curse of heartfelt song
contracted through love
triggered by heartbreak
a blistering sore of emotion
insatiable and incurable
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 5:30 PM UTC
I hold my
jaded angel
while she sleeps.
Her *** snug
against my groin.
I envision
her sanguine
grin while
she dreams of
domesticating me.
I can't believe
that I never noticed
how cute her mouth is.
It's amazing--I'm spellbound.
I want to nibble on
those lips.
The way she uses
her tongue to enunciate
certain words are sensual and
seductive.
I'm apathetic about
what she's reading.
But while I watch
her mischievous mouth move,
I hear Shakespeare's sonnets.
Mar 1, 2020
Mar 1, 2020 at 6:37 PM UTC
Over thirty thousand years ago a pregnant she-wolf
And her mate lay hidden in the grass
Watching some of our human ancestors
Hunt with spears, bows and arrows.
They were very impressed
But more than that so hungry
That they followed those humans home
Hoping to steal some meat.
They were just about to ****** that food
When a humans appeared
All around them.
They were caught!
All they could do was look up with pleading eyes:
“Please don’t **** us! We just want food.”
Seeing one of them was heavily pregnant
Those humans presumed them starving
And threw them meat
Then let them go!
Hungry again, they went back for more
And the humans fed them
And even stroked them.
This was so much better
Than having to search for prey
So often without reward.
And as time passed they took to accompanying these humans
On their hunts
Then ferreting out some prey for them to shoot
Rounding animals up
And retrieving those shot down by arrows.
Soon the rest of their pack joined them
And the female wolf had her pups
Near the human camp
Where it was safe.
She taught her pups
To plead for food and care
With their eyes and whines.
Those wolves remained forever,
Generation after generation
Each litter getting cuter
And softer
And more loving
Towards mankind.
And so they evolved
Into a seemingly endless variety
Of “Dogs”.
From Rottweilers to tiny Poodles,
German Shepherds and Collies to Chihuahuas.
They became known as “Man’s Best Friend”,
Showing us unconditional Love
And loyalty:
A bond like no other.
Even evolving raised eyebrows
And deeply sad eyes
To attract our love and care.
Domesticating themselves
Yet begging the question
Who is really “the master”?
My money is on
Them.
Paul Butters
© PB 20\3\2021.
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 8:04 AM UTC
I could while away the hours
Conferrin' with the flower
Consultin' with the rain
And my head, I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain...
Flashes,
Alms to flashes,
Storms on television sets
Domesticating nature for High Definition ****** fixation.
Suffocating families in screens.
Screens and flashes,
Alms to flashes.
Distractions spurn all my senses
I am hard and flaccid
and want more
but less
but right now
and again!...
I can feel the needle connect to my veins and into my spine
Push the plunger down and connection is made.
I would not be just a nuffin' my head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a brain.
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.
Ironic that I never really understood what this meant
Until today
The day the Caged Bird was set free
and sent to the Heavenly Gates
I can't be serious right now
I was trying to love a busy man
Domesticating myself to teach
A busy man how to love a woman like
Me
Because I thought this could be it
I don't have much time to dedicate
But he didn't want me to leave
So I thought he'd start making the time
And he did for a while
But when he stopped it was because
I be busy
I couldn't wrap my head quite around it because
School was over
Work hadn't begun
I just be chilling with friends
Another category I have to compete with
Guess I wasn't quite a friend
Even if I was 78.8 miles away
It wasn't enough for him to make time
to miss me
But when he asked me to see him
I was ready instantly
Even though we'd been shaky the past week
I remembered what it was about him that made me want to jump up Instantly
But even my instant preparation for affection despite my rage
Wasn't enough
So I sat
Waiting for hours
Just for an address
Ready to pounce in my car if he would just tell me where
Three hours
Just to be told his friends didn't want to share him with
Me
So I told him to just stay put
Even though I didn't mean it
But he didn't fight for
Me
I made the choice easy
I don't have much time to dedicate
But he does
Just to everything but
Me
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
I hold my
twisted angel while
she sleeps,
her *** snug against
my groin.
I envisage her
sanguine
grin while she dreams of
domesticating me.
I can’t believe
that I never
noticed how
cute her mouth is.
It’s amazing—I’m spellbound.
I want to nibble on
those lips.
The way she
uses her tongue to
enunciate certain
words is sensual and
seductive.
I’m apathetic about
the topic she is reading,
but while I watch her
mouth move, my ears
hear Shakespeare’s sonnets.
Mar 5, 2023
Mar 5, 2023 at 1:22 PM UTC
Yesterday
Bounded by the strings of parental puppeteers,
Molded and shaped by the clay I was made.
They created every thought, stumble, word, and fear,
Without protest, I just bent quietly and in silence I stayed.
A child, so naive and venerable,
Believing I could please everyone but me.
I didn’t know this made me fragile, breakable.
Blurred by their lies and parted from reality.
But divorce weighed heavy on their shoulders,
Domesticating me into a spinning frame,
Not two households but two stages.
Two masks, two characters, two people, I became,
Transitions between parents or transitions between plays.
I grew older, and the strings wore thin,
From character slip ups and wrong.
Tossing me from play to play,
Right is wrong and wrong is right.
A hurricane in my brain.
Scrambling, seething, screaming.
Chaos until I couldn’t take it anymore and SNAP!
I snapped.
The strings collapsed,
A broken toy left alone.
Today
Limp string knotted on the floor,
Dragging behind me, weighing me down.
But two pulled tight, from the sky to my core,
The deafening ripping was quite profound.
My heart, once big, was splitting,
From the force of Mother and Father.
My only escape was the day I turn eighteen,
But in the meantime I almost fell apart.
Black and white was non existent,
But lost in the grey I was washed away.
I took the blade and cut the rope which held me down,
Severing myself to escape.
Looking for love,
Only making mistakes.
Misplaced, confused.
Looking forward into a tunnel,
A speck of light guiding my way.
Hope will keep me sane.
Tomorrow
Freedom is at my grasp,
An adult subjected to nothing but myself.
No parental rule,
Just my own.
No structure but free will.
In the meantime I wear my frayed strings with pride,
To portray my story, I wear no shame.
Time ticks and the threads fade away.
Until they’re gone as if they were never there.
I am beautiful to myself, I live for me.
Just a free spirit who dances simply.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 3:23 AM UTC