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Tint Aug 2018
Paw
Hold me in your paw. show me warmth and grow
Be the fluffy little bear hug to play and make me glow
In gentle arms I will carry you, feed you food and love
With short tail and long ones, ****** and not

Make friends with me, pal

I have bigger hands and you have sharp fangs
We will play catch as I laugh in your silly feline acts
My little fury companion, a mystery to some
Let us walk the path of short life and let us be one
To the direction of tomorrow, I hope to see you run

Make friends with me, pal
Calm me down and give me love
Make friends with me, pal
See you in another life.
Daniel T Dec 2018
I just wanted to love someone
so much -
That I never learned to like anyone

She was dangerously close
like a molotov
to a dream.
The crease in her smile
From when she carried it closed
Or maybe from when
The one that last carried it for her.

There's a thorn in her paw;
That is a crucifix in her theart
and keeps her nailed to the pain.
It's a cross
between the love she has
for everyone
but herself,
and the hatred for me.
And I like it.
All of it.

Still though, I dream that she's in my bed
looking sweete than her taste for revenge,
it's 5 PM and she isn't wearing much
but she's in my bed, saying the things
that I need to hear,
which is just about anything at this point.

It's 8:30 pm, and I get my wake up call
and out the door I go, in my headphones go
the first thing I hear is Ed Sheeran
I hate that I enjoy his voice
because he's always ******* right
and he tells me "baby you look happier, you do"
well ****.
"my friends told me, one day I'll feel it too"
and now I need a shot because ****.
I really was happier with her.

7:15 in the morning
Don Quixote sits against my wall
I can't really hear his voice
but he says that it ain't right
to fight a windmill and lose.

and then he tells me
it ain't right for me and her
to be all we've ever been.

All I make is mistakes
I see them too, but it's always too late.
It's all I know how to do.
I know there's something wrong,
hence why I'm drunk when I write.
Sometimes I couldn't blink
or take a breath during those conversations.

There's so much I'm uncertain about
...so many questions
I'll never ask, again
I used to ask a lot, for someone.
not anymore.
not since i couldn't explain
what I couldn't explore.
but that thorn is still in her paw.
I wish I could've removed it.
Tanya Feb 5
It is a furry dog
that makes love
bark in another language,
that makes my heart
run wild on four

p
a
w
s
.
Oscar the labradoodle.
Rowan Deysel Mar 2016
Fresh from the kennels. A whole world away.  
Companion conversion for a young castaway.  
A darling of distraction with irrational fears.
The clumsiest canine with ever aware ears.
Guardian of gourmet. Suspect of all sounds.
He'll catch himself someday, spinning around.
A tug of war here. A muddy mess there.
A lick to the face of the humans in his care.
How thrilled his tail and tremendous his teeth.
How dug up the planet from paw underneath.
The running for fun. The claiming of trees.
The car window ride along - face full of breeze.

--------------------------------------------------------

But now he's a master of "Stay!".
His eagle ears succumbing to gravity's sway.
Napping much more, barking much less.
Now rarer the cuddle, the clean, the caress.
Patch protector. Owner of no debts.
A veteran of various villainous vets.
Birds as trivial as the tennis ball is far.
Eyes now as hazy as the indistinguishable stars.
A howl at the moon. A loosening tooth.
An ode to memories of a modest youth.
They still love this pup. He still loves them back.
May he long be remembered as he faces the black.
Logan Robertson Aug 2018
My Sister, I Watched You Fall-2

My little nephew, I was sorry for your sorrows
When the whims of your mother stormed your tomorrows
You didn't know who your father was
Or why the branches of your tree sagged its paws

For you walked thru the halls of life mauled
By a lost paw that grabbed your mind and sadness walled
I could see it in your mind's eyes, the question marks
Of why other families have fathers at the parks

From the time you were a little child of two
You would love to go with uncle to the zoo
Then as the wheels in your mind started to click
Seeing other kids with fathers, it made you sick

You were young seedling lacking the nourishment
The parts of the puzzle missing fulfillment
But hear this, my little nephew, your uncle tried
And ... at the mercy of your mother's whims, I cried

We'd play the role of father and son
Fish a dream, toss the past, paint some fun
We'd **** weeds while wrestling through a reservoir of tears
Aborted in time, a lake, two swans and a duckling in good cheers

My nephew, I would take you around the world if I could
But hear this you were never, never driftwood
For I had spent as much time visiting you
In absence of a fathers touch, you never knew

I shed more tears today as I catch wind of your child
For its teeth bites and gust of whims, again, run wild
Do I offer congratulations knowing the lake is devoid
Of future swans and a duckling, walled in my mind's void

No. My nephew, I'm choked in tears that crawl
On the face of the earth, I sprawl
I thought you learned, child uncorked
On wings of albatross and not the stork

Logan Robertson

8/16/2018
Play on words-paws, mauled. At age two, he was a child prodigy
with an eidetic memory. He was a **** at math, count change impressively, knew the times' table, like how many donuts in five in a half dozen. We would study the map, he knew all the states and capitals. I was impressed watching him grow and blossom. Then one day at that young age he learned why other kids had fathers and he didn't. It hurt him badly. He recoiled. He rebelled. He purposely started to give wrong answers to my teaching, as he started to lose interest. And things waned after that understandingly so. But for a while there he was so bright. This is a sad page to turn.
Dark Fjord Dec 2016
in the green field, snow
and in the ashes
A perfect bleating for lambs of water.

reflect: not to quick
to judge or award with ink  
what could a little paw stamp
the back alley, who
born me.

my first memory, learning my way, inland Frosted
the deep has its chords, shackles to glow...
molding to Remember.

broken song
   the crowds-up;
     just smile… and listen, for the quick steps up.
on location
A hard man, missing his left hand
A misfortune with a tractor
Some jail time, caught running moonshine
they say

All behind him now, time to rest

Ornamental iron entrance
Turn left along the drive
Three palm trees mark the row
A water faucet confirms it

Dried grass from the Texas heat
crackles under my feet
as I walk down the row
A flower here a plant there

Squinting from the bright sun
A penny on a headstone thanks a Veteran for service

Overgrown with weeds now
a granite headstone marks the spot
where memories lie
no longer to be shared

Rest in peace "Paw-Paw"
just a simple writing about my grandfather.  Stories left untold will be just that.
Michael Marchese Apr 2018
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, crussian bones of the law
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on front line Columbines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
The divine comedy fact-
Attactic landmine
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
Now your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Mary Gay Kearns Nov 2018
The black cloud burst the horizon
spilling a deluge of ominous hate
The evil of nations, of people
And organisations, and of arrogance.

It scraped and swamped the rivers
Cascading each venomous paw
As it moved the land to death
The destruction of life crunched.

And Wendy just sat on the sand
Wearing her hand knitted gloves,
Blue, made by a loving friend
Then she raised herself and flew.

Love Mary ***
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