"nubbin" poems
Grandma had a clever dog;
She raised him from a pup.
And when he learned that he could talk
You couldn't shut him up.
His tail was just a nubbin
And he had a flattened mug.
He looked like a short boxer
So grandma named him pug.
Grandma told us what he looked like
For we never saw the cuss.
Her walking, talking, Pug Dog
Was invisible to us.
She said he'd always been around,
As far as she recalled.
Her mother told Pug stories
Before grandma even crawled.
Every family has traditions
And I guess I'd have to say,
Pug tales have been our custom
Right down to this very day.
When grandma gives a long deep sigh
And says, "Now, one day Pug. . ."
We know a story's coming
So we sit down on the rug.
We nestle up beside her
For a tale we've never heard.
And everyone gets quiet
So that we won't miss a word.
The stories grandma tells us
Of the things that dog can do
Can hold any child's attention,
Even fill a book or two.
Grandma's Pug tales outdo Rin-Tin-Tin
And even Scooby-Doo.
He's a smarter dog than Snoopy;
Smarter than Lassie too.
Pug has traveled far, to distant lands,
And even outer space.
He's done every thing there is to do
And he's been every place.
He always gets in trouble
For there's nothing he won't try.
He has traveled in a sub-marine,
Flown airplanes in the sky.
He has even been arrested,
More than once broke out of Jail.
But the family loves him dearly
And we always pay his bail.
Where grandma gets her stories from
I guess I'll never know.
But even down through all these years
Her Pug tales grow and grow.
I know someday when grandma sleeps,
And her life on earth is gone,
The Angels all will gather
To hear Pug tales all day long
Sep 24, 2010
Sep 24, 2010 at 4:49 PM UTC
#
"They've outlawed it, you know.."
"Outlawed what, Sweetie"
***"The Unknowable--
that which cannot be defined
or easily explained away..
That which cannot reduced, down
in to something more palatable;
Or maybe diluted-down
in to that which one could drink
..without it bringing some form
of dis- comfort"***
She is looking down;
Woven into her hair.. all things
edelweiss, suddenly begin
their wilt
..and all along the waterway
are those coming towards her
to smother
.
You will hold on, my Beautiful
*(or maybe even turn to face
for the first time, with loaded gun)*
--But Beautiful girl was never meant
to go loaded
*(..And her beloved Rooster Cogburn said
that she's no bigger than a corn nubbin)*
My beautiful girl
locks and loads, anyways--
Because the Mason-jars
she was forced to pour it all in to,
were never made big enough
to contain it.
There's a small stall at the swap-meet..
on Thursday and Saturday mornings,
she rents a space there
Her wares, true liquid Gold..
*(when a jar becomes sold
no hidden-thing will be needed
to sustain it)*
. . . . .
Quiet hearts are never meant
to reveal themselves
Some words (in this world)
were never meant to be spoken
You'll see now, beautiful Angel--
that this Rare-Jeweled heart of yours
is not the only-one,
perpetually Broken
Some gifts, the world
may never be ready for.
Lip-Kissed,
may I be the one
to help get that
un-ready World, ready--
*(so very well fed
yet still;
so very slowly, burning)*
Some beautiful Heartbeats
are so very much worth dying for
***... And I, myself ;
I am turning..***
#
Sep 27, 2023
Sep 27, 2023 at 2:17 PM UTC