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David Ehrgott Dec 2015
I wanna buy a puppy
A really happy puppy
I wanna buy a puppy
A happy big-eyed puppy
I want to buy a puppy
A warm and cuddable puppy
I want to buy a puppy
A pup won't slobber silly

I wanna buy a puppy
One that's so go-lucky
A happy happy puppy
I wanna buy a puppy
I want to buy a puppy
A big fat furry puppy

The warmth and love of puppy
I really want a puppy
Liberty J Feb 2018
My puppy loves to run,
My puppy loves to play,
My puppy is tons of fun,
My puppy does this all day.

My puppy loves to fetch
My puppy loves to slobber
Throw a bone, he’ll catch
My puppy has even stopped a robber!

My puppy loves to run,
My puppy loves to play,
Then his fur turned grey,
And he died last May.
Dead Puppy, Broken Men
add opening narration/exposition/explanation; scenario with Jared


"I've felt alone my entire life. Please don't make me be alone when I'm with you," Shellie begged Jared.
"You're not alone. I love you," was Jared's reply.
"But you won't open up to me."
"It's just really hard. I've always been this way."
"But why?" Shellie desperately yearned for the answers she would never find. "You need to love yourself, or you will never truly love me. You won't be able to."
"I do love you."
"Maybe you just think you do. Saying 'I love you' doesn't make it true. You have to show me that you love me. I can't handle this much longer. Nothing has changed in two years. Nothing."
"I know," Jared begins to cry, "I'm sorry. I really am."
"Don't cry please."
Jared looks away at the black T.V. screen in Shellie's apartment. He is silent for a long time, but eventually Shellie is able to pry his entire childhood out of his sewn-shut lips. She wouldn't take silence for an answer. Not anymore. If Jared hadn't come home, Shellie would have spoken to no one all day. She liked her alone time, but depended on Jared to be her right-hand-man, her main squeeze, her soul mate, and right now -- he simply wasn't being that. He was being something else; a subject of inspection, a psych-ward patient; a lost friend, who she longed to have back.
"Thank you for telling me," Shellie said as she squeezed his shoulders from behind, comforting him with tiny pecks on his cheeks. "Things make more sense now."
Jared said nothing the rest of the night. He instead sketched photos of slimy creatures with clenched teeth into his notebook, creating meticulous lines, surrounding the figure, as if it were travelling through time and space, into a new dimension, far away from this one.

"Did you know that there is a lizard that can only be female, and they don't have ***, they just clone themselves?" Brannan asked Shellie, his best friend.
"I wish I was that lizard..." Shellie sighed.
"What! Why!" Brannan exclaimed with confusion and worry.
"Because. *** messes everything up. I don't know...Maybe I'm just crazy," she stammered, looking for the right words.
"It's Jared, isn't it?" Brannan asked, already knowing the answer, because he knew Shellie.
"Yeah...I'm giving him one more chance. One more and that's strike three, you're out!" She laughed nervously.
"Ooookay," Brannan agreed, "one more chance."
Eli glanced up from the TV and looked at Shellie, wondering how anyone could hurt someone so sweet. But what did he know? He killed people for a living.
"What did he do?" Eli pried.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I've talked about it enough. All guys are the same."
"That's not true," Brannan tilted his head to the side in pity.

"The king is here!" Andy announced, as he walked through Brannan's door with a pound of **** in his canister, which was covered in skateboarding stickers and graffiti. Everyone cheered, and Brannan stopped playing Call of Duty, put down his Xbox controller, and picked up the pack of rillos that Eli had bought prior to coming over.
"That game ain't nothing like real life anyway," Eli mentioned, as he put down the other controller and everyone hastily made their way over to the kitchen table. He walked over to the freezer to pull out some Jack Daniels and ice, then went to the cabinets for a glass, turning his army cap backwards, pouring his drink, and taking a swig.

"How much do I owe you?" Brannan asked.
"We'll talk later," Andy replied.
"I was going to tell you, I still don't have what I owe you from last time, but Alexa said there is an opening at Starbucks, so I'll be able to pay you back ASAP man. I really appreciate it."
"Yeah, no problem," Andy said disdainfully.
"I'll roll it!" Shellie yelled to break the tension, as she put down her phone, only to pick it up again to check the time. Her boyfriend would be off work soon. Would she have to text him first again? Was he even thinking of her?
"Go for it!" Brannan tossed the rillo pack to her.
As she was finishing the roll, her phone went off. Shellie believed that maybe there was hope after all.
"Nope, just my dad..." Shellie mumbled to herself and sighed.
"What's wrong?" Brannan asked, with concerned blue eyes, through his thick-rimmed, black glasses.
"It's just Jared," she said as she pushed her lips to one side and looked down at her phone.
"What did he say?” Brannan asked.
“That’s the problem. He hasn’t said anything all day,” she explained in distress. Brannan noticed she hadn’t worn makeup in days, and by the looks of her outfit, she hadn’t been doing daily yoga like usual.
“Maybe he’s just super busy?” Brannan asked reluctantly.
“HE’S busy?? No. I’M busy.” She paused as Andy and Eli raised their eyebrows and widened their eyes. Eli was confused, because she had always seemed happy whenever he saw her. "I'm in school AND I have three jobs. What does he have? ONE job. One. I think he has time to text me, thanks for your input though."
Brannan said nothing, but pressed his teeth together and opened his lips, revealing a worried look with sad eyes, toward his dear friend.
"Yeah. He just doesn't get it. I'm a fire sign and I'm full of passion! Well, partially an air sign, which is probably why I’m so forgiving and understanding. But if he doesn't reciprocate soon, I feel like I'm going to go insane! Like, really? You don't want to go see Star Wars with me? What kind of person are you? Who doesn't like Star Wars? Really though," Shellie added.
"Maybe he's already seen it and doesn't want to tell you," Brannan suggested.
"You think so? Who would he go see it with though? All of his friends have already seen it. Do you think he saw it with his ex?! Oh my God..."
"Here, take this," Eli said as he handed the blunt to Shellie.
She took a big puff and exhaled as she closed her eyes in relief.
"You know what. I'm overthinking this. He just gets anxious in public, that's all," Shellie explained and looked around for reassurance.
"Are you sure that's all?" Brannan asked as he swung his black bangs away from his face.
"I don’t know... He's really mysterious and quiet. It's really hard for him to open up, I think. He didn’t really have a dad growing up. He's gotten better at talking to me, but he's still weird around big crowds of people. He never wants to go anywhere with me. It *****. I think he's learning to get better though. Maybe he's just young, I don’t know, but I'm sick of acting like his mother, you know? Why can't he learn things on his own? We're all scared, but if you don't face your fears at some point, then what's the point?"
Andy couldn’t help but think she sounded like a nagging *****.
"You know you just partially described the personality of a serial killer, right?" Brannan asked with comedic horror on his face.
"Did I?" Shellie asked.
"You deserve better!" Brannan's mom yelled from the living room. She was watching some reality TV show that she shouldn't have been watching. She continued to Shellie, "You deserve someone who takes you out and treats you right! You're a sweet girl!"
Shellie looked down at her phone. Still no text.
"Do you want to hit this?" Shellie yelled to Brannan's mom.
"I'm good, thank you though! I've got to finish these lesson plans for the day care," she explained with a sigh.
"Aww, sounds kinda fun," Shellie said. Shellie had thought about being a teacher, or maybe a counselor, but after helping so many people with different problems, she was starting to second-guess her passion for it.
"Nice blunt," Andy complimented Shellie. He thought Shellie was kind of cute, now that he had caught Eli in Alexa's bed and was no longer drawn to her. Despite her messy hair and mix matched attire, she had things together. She had things going for her. What did Andy have going for him?
"Thanks," Shellie smiled. Jared hated blunts, but he loved cigarettes. It made no sense to her.
"So what have you been up to?" Eli asked Shellie. "It's been a while."
"Just busy, busy. School and work, you know,” she said as she took one final puff before passing the blunt on its way, into the final circulation, never to return to her. She wanted to ask Eli about his life, but knew he couldn't say much, so she just went back to her phone.
Eli looked at Alexa, "Cigarette?" he asked.
"Yes," everyone except Shellie replied.
They all went outside in the freezing cold to get a brief buzz, while Shellie stayed inside, in the warmth, jotting down new business plans for her yoga studio into her phone. She then opened one of her books, but couldn’t focus on the text, so she quickly closed it. She then sat there in jaded silence, waiting for her friends to return from their strange endeavor.

"All the girls at my work are such *******! Like, one day I think they're my friend, then the next day I'm like, who are you?" Alexas was saying to her mom in between inhales and exhales.
Brannan looked at Alexas then at Eli with a look of concern and distaste. His mom noticed his expression and gave a brief response of agreement with her eyes, quickly returning to her daughter's concerns with compassion and empathy.
"Like, Kate said she wanted to hang out and everything, then she just doesn't respond. What the Hell?"
"Yeah, you probably just shouldn't be friends with them," Brannan replied.
"I have to be! I work with them," Alexas explained.
Knowing it was a lost cause, Brannan turned toward the glass door, where one of his cats pawed at the frame. “Aw, look at Izzy,” he said, pointing.
“Awwww,” his mom replied as she sipped on white Beringer.
“Let her out,” Brannan said to Alexa, since she was next to the door ****.
“No! She’ll run away,” Alexa said.
“No she won’t,” Brannan argued, as he made his way behind his sister, slightly pushing her, and letting Izzy outside.
She looked at everyone, let out a small meow, then hopped down into the grass, under a bush, and out of sight.
“Look what you did!”Alexas said, raising her voice.
“She’ll be back…” Brannan assured her, with ****** eyes.
Alexas rolled her eyes and Brannan continued, “She just wants to be free, Al.”
Their mom watched Izzy as she scurried into the neighbor’s yard. “Yeah, she’ll be back,” she said.
Then Eli turned to Andy and said, "You trying to play Call of Duty?"
"Sure," Andy agreed, though all he could think about was how Eli had been in Alexa's sheets the week before. “I’ll ******* **** you dude.”
“Yeah right,” Eli said as he let out a laugh, not knowing that he knew what he knew.

Alexa went to the living room with her mom, and Brannan returned to his spot at the kitchen table next to Shellie. Smoke stained the air, as Brannan picked up his phone and began playing a Pokémon game. Shellie tried to act interested, but all she could think about was Jared. Eli and Andy finished shooting each other and came back to form a circle.
“Bowl?” Brannan asked.
“That’s okay,” Shellie said, “I’m trying to cut back.”
“What…” Brannan said in disbelief. He packed the bowl anyway and handed it to her.
“Naw,” Shellie said.
“Yaw! Brannan yelled.
Brannan handed the bowl to Andy and as Andy hit the bowl, he turned to Eli and said, "Hey, so if someone sat 12 million dollars in front of you, and a puppy in front of you, and said: The money is yours, you just have to crush this puppy to bits. Would you do it?" He looked at everyone as if he already knew the answer; as if it was obvious. Andy waited for everyone else to reply first. Brannan had no intentions of replying, since he was trying to be Christ-like lately.
"No, I wouldn't do it," Shellie said.
"Are you serious?!" Eli asked with pure shock on his sun-kissed face.
"Yes, I'm serious. Would you do it?" She leaned forward, almost rocking out of the tall bar stool she was sitting on.
Brannan and Eli chimed in, "You would SO do it."
"I would SO not." She repeated angrily, hitting the blunt and blinking her brown eyes to moisten her contact lenses.
Brannan's younger sister walked into the room to sit down, and Shellie looked to her for an answer. "Would you??" She looked at her with eyes of a beggar's, pleading for understanding and empathy.
"Do what?" Alexa asked, and the boys repeated the scenario, talking with utter excitement.
"A puppy? A cute little puppy?" Alexa asked.
"Yeah, a puppy or 12 million dollars," Andy coaxed.
"I couldn't do it! I could never do that!" Alexa gasped. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t!”
"That's what I'm saying," Shellie agreed. "I'm not even a dog person, but I would grab the puppy and run! Maybe report that guy to the animal police or whatever."
"Yeah!" Alexa agreed, as she took off her Starbucks sun visor and laid it on the table, next to Brannan’s laptop, Eli’s sketches, Andy’s backpack, and Shellie’s books.
"You all are crazy!" Andy said. "If the money was right in front of you, you'd do it, no question."
"No," Alexa and Shellie both said firmly.
"You'd just have to see the money, right there in front of you, in person," he kept on going.
Eli took a sip of his whiskey, then made stomping motions with his feet and said, "Haha! Gone! 12 million dollars richer. You know what you can buy with that much money? Tons of new puppies, if you really wanted to." He laughed.
"Yeah, you could **** me and make tons of new friends, too," Shellie said as she rolled her eyes in disgust.
"That's not the same though," Brannan finally spoke. "We don't know this puppy like we know you."
"Well someone does," Shellie insisted.
"Maybe," Brannan replied.
"Someone could," Alexa said. "Unless you **** him."
"Who said it's a boy?" Shellie asked sheepishly.
"You're right. It should be a girl," Alexa agreed, "like sweet little Lola over here." She scooted her chair from the table, and beneath her feet lay her sleeping Border Collie. She got up from her seat and lowered herself to the floor, head to head with the dog. She touched her nose to the dog's nose, kissed the dog’s cheek, and patted her head before returning to her peers on the bar stools above.
Everyone went silent, and Shellie wondered if the boys felt ashamed - so obsessed with power, that they forget to love.


"You know how I told you that I didn't really know my dad growing up?"
"Well, it's because he was in jail for a while."
"How come?"
Looking around, as if for help or guidance, Jared hesitated to say what would come next.
"What is it??" Shellie pleaded, her imagination running wild with fear and worry.
"He ***** me."
"W-what..." Shellie was taken aback. She would have never guessed this is what all Jared's anger had stemmed from. Life flashed before her like a lightning bolt. It surged through her entire body, carrying memories of her perfect childhood juxtaposed next to Jared's. She thought of all the times she had met Jared's dad. She thought of how they worked in the same office, and Jared had to see his face every single day. She wondered how deeply this must affect his life, and how little she had noticed. Had she misjudged him completely? Why were all of her boyfriends so damaged? Was she drawn to damage? What if he ended up like his father? She wanted to help him. She had to.
"But how? Or... Like, where?! Did your mom know?"
"That's why she divorced him. He used to rent hotels on the weekends and tell my mom he was taking me along on his business trips. It wasn't until I was seven... I started having nightmares. I couldn't wake up. I'd scream and yell, telling him to get off me."
"Oh, Jared. I love you so much. You know that? I'm here for you. **** him. You don't need him. Your mom is great, and your little brother loves you. I love you. It's surprising how great you turned out, honestly."
"Yeah..." Jared said, slightly offended, but also in agreement.

* note for author from author: add scene with Alexa and Lola -- Lola biting her over and over. He's hurting me, ow!! "She just let her bite her. Over and over again." She did nothing about it. She endured the pain.
Shellie teaches Brannan how to "train" his dog.. play with her, be her friend. She just wants to play. She doesn't want to watch us smoke **** all day. You have to act like a dog sometimes if you want her to love you and be good.
reference to god's of love.. maybe venus and mars
- add more in between blunt roation.. it burns too fast
- create more setting!! (vital)
- add physical fight between Eli and Andy
- add scene with brandon's dad at very beg
Kevin Eli Dec 2012
I find the tragedies of people so heartbreaking. Addiction is misunderstood, and this has become my understanding.

I realize that this disease is not about drugs. Drugs are only a symptom of addiction or the "ism". Some people do drugs, while others collect things, suffer endlessly in painful relationships, others obsess over things they cannot control.

The real beginnings of many of our problems comes from far back in our lives starting with childhood and upbringing. We are told that we are expected to be a certain way and that we must follow the examples of others. Even though we should believe that adults that abuse us are wrong, we internalize it and find it to be our faults. “What did I do wrong? I shouldn't have done that. I must do better next time.” I have looked inside of myself and translated that this life terrorizing issue is hard to understand, yet simple.

We have a personality we have grown up with and created. An ego represented by coats of armor that we put on. We put on a new layer of armor each time we are hurt or learn a lesson. Eventually these suits of armor start to get so heavy, we cannot move, we cannot breathe. We try to walk around and be true to ourselves but our defenses make it nearly impossible. We only want people to see what we let them to and tell our true nature to shut up. We think our true selves aren't enough to be loved and isn't worth showing people. We become ashamed of what we actually are underneath. Our Egocentricity takes over and creates that facade we want people to see.

There are several walls we must break down in order to free ourselves of the thousands of layers of armor we put on over our lifetimes. We have the first wall: our personality we present to others. We must know it and see ourselves for what we actually are. There is nothing wrong with you. You are a wonderful human being that is deserving of everything life has to offer. The second wall is the big brute who bullies you at any cost to keep himself alive: Self-hate. It is your greatest critic, your manipulator, and your source of evil. You must look at your self-hate as a black dog behind you that is always barking, looking for attention, undisciplined and untrained. Wild, vicious and dangerous, it will do anything to get what it wants from you and does not love you. It will beg and give you those puppy eyes, but it is always lying to get what it wants... In front of you is another dog. Your true self. It is a little puppy that has not been nurtured or given attention in a long time. This puppy does not bark, it does not cry. It just wants your unconditional love as it has for you.

You must not ignore the black dog behind you. It must be stared straight in the face and you must say NO. This is where the last wall and line of defense against your true nature and love for yourself hides: Fear. You are afraid that this desperate black dog will bite you when it doesn't get what it wants. It will bark so loud you cannot hear anything and you are afraid of being ripped apart and die if you do not give it what it needs. Yet, this dog has a hidden chain attached to it you have never seen or knew about before. It cannot get to you if you don't let it near you. You must make the deep and soul searching decision through great fear and with courage to never give this dog what it wants again...
Turn your eyes forward...

See the little puppy in front of you? It looks at you with those big eyes filled with the desire for you to love it and take care of it. That puppy is you... Don’t be afraid of the work it takes to raise that puppy, because it will grow up slowly yet surely and be your undying companion; always guiding you to the happiness you deserve. Give it some water, some food, your love and take it on walks.
This is you. This is your puppy. If you can learn to love this puppy and nurture it, you will have found you love yourself. When you can love yourself, you can then love another...
The suits of armor come off and you can finally move away from that black dog behind you forever. The love you found will flow into you. You will be able to live with freedom, unchained from your self-hate and fears. Nobody can say you are a bad person anymore. You have taken such good care of that puppy that you don’t need anybody's approval. Your own puppy is happy, and he loves you unconditionally. It is unconditional love for yourself.

Everybody has this armor on and everybody has different weights on their shoulders. It is up to you to decide when to break free. I will pray for you all in the mean time. Please pray for yourself and others.
And as you do, remember to love freely.
Jamison Bell May 2020
This here poem is about a puppy, you need not know his name
Only in that he is a puppy, you should know him all the same
This here puppy had an awareness not unlike your own
He knew he had to lick his ***** and hide his ****** bone

This little puppy stumbled about, much like you once did
Back when you were a dumb as **** snot faced little kid
The puppy found his world confusing much like you still do
But unlike you this puppy knows he hasn’t a ****** clue

See here what this puppy knows, is that it’s ok to have no reason
To call into doubt what you think you know, isn’t ******* treason
This here puppy he figured out that his reality isn’t fixed
In fact it’s incomplete, not done, any beliefs he had were nixed

You could learn a lot from him, if you’d only stop a bit
Put aside your petty wants, try thinking while you ****
Wisdom and compassion you’ll see walk hand in hand
Be considerate of your actions, keep your head out of the sand

This puppy has no enemies and yet you have a million
If you lived but ten more years, I bet you’ll have a billion
Try being like the puppy, just appreciate what you’ve been given
Sometimes it takes just a smile to see why life’s worth liven
Adam L Alexander Jul 2010
Its like when you hold a new puppy
You can tell it is squirming
Wishing for the freedom to go play
It isn’t that you wouldn’t let the puppy go
If it really wanted to be let go...

But you blind yourself with infinite and simultaneous
Justifications of other possible portents
And so you cling
ever tighter
Saying puppy sit still
“Puppy I love you”
And when the puppy finally learns it cannot struggle anymore
You profess
True Love!
Pagan Paul Nov 2018
The hypotenuse stretched
as far as the eye could see,
across a vast lateral plain
an horizon mathematically perfect.
And yet …
In the main square of the hypotenuse
the town crier bellowed out tidings.
The Triangle Triumvirate was unstable,
the discovery, nay re-discovery,
of the Mystery, the most horrific of Mysteries,
the Mystery of the missing

Dweeb was a box standard barbarian.
Quick to anger, slow of wit.
Like last night at dinner.
He had Three potatoes, his sister had Four.
He shouted and thumped the table,
his angry voice expunging his ire.
Then his sister had explained,
to calm and reassure him.
Three was more than Four
because it had Five letters in it.
And Five is more than Four.
He thought about his axe,
then about his abacus,
and then he ate his spuds.

The Fourth-Side drifted in spacial isolation.
Of course now it wasn't a Side.
Being attached to nothing, it was just a line,
but it had some tricks.
It could coil and curl itself
to form rude words in joined up writing.
It floated on reminiscing,
about the **** angles it had made
with all its previous adjacent lovers.
The memory caused spasms
and it formed into a rude word
that should never ever be written down.

Teena, Dweeb's sister, vomited.
She had kissed a puppy,
and was being sick in the morning,
was she pregnant?
But, it was never a puppy, always a stork.
He mum had told her, warned her
'never kiss an errant stalk'.
Her mum died of the pox, whatever that is.
Something clicked in her head.
Oh! Stork and stalk!
Well they do sound the same,
especially in a harsh barbarian accent.
But the puppy had sneezed
as she had kissed it goodnight.
She thought about her axe.
And then she threw up again.

Equations to be solved #7
Vlad the Impaler was a Barbarian
Vlad the Impaler was a Libra
Dracula was a Librarian?

Right Angle was worried.
Duly so.
If the Fourth-Side Mystery was solved
he'd have three other Right Angles to deal with,
instead of a sixty and a thirty.
The Triangle Triumvirate would cease.
An intense Quadrilateral Mexican stand-off
would ruffle his perfect two-seventy external.
He had to divert attention away,
far, far away, from the Fourth-Side.
By Jove he had it! Bingo!
Let them try to solve
the Mystery of
The Back-Side.

Dweeb loved winding up his sister.
So he hid her puppy in a box.
But now he was worried.
Was the puppy still alive?
Or dead? Or both?
This may sound like a ****** stupid question
but where did that last thought come from?
Yes what?
Yes, it was a ****** stupid question!

Teena though it very strange.
When she rang the dinner Triangle
the cat sat on the mat,
Curiouser and curiouser.
Conditioned response or learnt behaviour?
Teena dismissed the thought line,
she didn't ask ****** stupid questions.

It had no idea
about its status as a Mystery.
The Fourth-Side has issues.
Complicated issues.
It had somehow conspired
to tie itself in a knot.
And spacial isolation had become crowded.
Missing links everywhere, the sofa of time,
excommunicated integers, 1970's wallpaper,
it all floated about in spacial isolation.
Above all Fourth-Side was intensely agitated.
Couldn't anyone quieten that yapping puppy?

© Pagan Paul (06/11/18)
My psychedelic washing machine mind on spin cycle!
Jon Tobias Jul 2012
Before walking through the doorway
Made of trash bags
A woman checked our ID’s

We passed the booth with the feathers and the ball-gags
Passed the woman selling *** toys
Just a white awning with plastic chairs

We sat and watched a man dressed in leather
He was the kind of expert who understood his passion
But for him there was no teaching it

Beer saturated my white shirt
As I sweated it out
I could feel the alcohol in my lungs
I breathed slower as if it would hide the sensation

He explained to us puppy play
The dynamics

He had his own puppy with him
A man so good at making wet eyes
So good at seeming lost

He barked and wagged an invisible tail
Chewed on rope
Probably he thought about burying his bone
What his wife might be making for dinner
Wondered if I had recognized him as a regular
At my work

While taking questions the leather man said
It takes time to discover the puppy inside

It makes me think of how
In order to view ourselves as anything
We need a filter

I want you to **** me
With a ****** full of yes

I told them
If I were a puppy
I would be very stupid
But great to cuddle

We can admit these things about ourselves
While in character

If I tell you
I am pretending to be anything
I can still find ways to pretend to be me

It is like an electric chair
Disguised as a lazy boy
It will not hold you for long
Your skin does not fit proper

It makes me think of my father
The Clown
Who bent me into shape
With his balloon animal breath
Only he had asthma
The empty static

My inner puppy
Is a half deflated balloon poodle
Ends pulled tight like amputee sausage link limbs

Looking lost and lonely isn’t hard
What’s hard about it is
Looking like that was your intention

In character
Some invisible narrator
I can admit anything
Olivia Kent Sep 2013
The puppy sat by the door.
Near dying to go out.
Crying an abysmal wail
As if a naughty child.
Pawed and clawed the kitchen door.

No-one heard the honey pup.
Everyone was out.
Owner running late for work.
Neglected to let her run.
However could she forget.

It got to six a clock at night.
No-body came.
The tension built up.
Fluid build up.
Exploded sweet pup.
(metaphorically of course)

Owner came home.
Just couldn't be cross.
Cleaned up the muddle-some puddle.
Gave her puppy a hug.
Smiled to herself.
Said to puppy how sorry she was.
Cautionary tale acquired from here.
No matter how ever late you ever may be.
Put your cute puppy out to ***!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Donall Dempsey Oct 2018
( for Maureen )

She is teaching Timothy
to read

even though she
can't read herself.

Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words

with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story

off by heart she
could read it in the dark.

She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause

by rote
making great efforts

to teach Timothy
the puppy

but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in

the un-thrown stick.

Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.

"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.

Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.

Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.

"...upon a time
a long long time


Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress

with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it

travels over the words
the story's journey.

"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"

"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature

throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.

Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of

a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )

chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird

brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.
T'was the night before Christmas
The gifts were all wrapped
When the smell, hit me
Our new puppy had crapped

I knew I could smell it
It was not just a ****
The puppy had dropped one
I awoke with a start

I could hear a slight rustle
As he went to his bed
But, the smell made me nauseous
And it turned my eyes red

I could hear a slight jingle
From the dog tags he wore
It was then that I found it
In the hall, by the door

I had not put on slippers
I had not hit the light
I just hope I could see it
Try as I might

But, as puppy bombs go
this was one for the ages
It had started out loose
And had grown in three stages

My foot found it first
And before I could halt
It was between my toes
And it wasn't his fault

If I'd turned on the light
I'd have seen it, no sweat
But, now, I was hopping
With a foot, brown and wet

I was off to the bathroom
Hopping mad, so to speak
when from out of my bedroom
I heard "What's that reek?"

It was worse than it started
Now, I'd helped it along
It was me, now in trouble
And somehow, that was wrong

Down in the kitchen
I could hear the dog snore
While, I was still hopping
On one foot by the door

My wife, said "go shower"
And clean up the rug
I hopped to the bathroom
And sat down, with a shrug

It was the night before Christmas
I should be out like a log
But, this is my life
Because I own a dog....
Thomas clark Feb 2016
I used to have a puppy
His eyes were big and brown
He messed upon my carpets
And knocked my ornaments down

He ate my favourite slippers
He chewed my armchair too
But I miss my little puppy
I really really do

If only I,d been more careful
Remembered to close the door
I,d still have my little puppy
That I have,nt got anymore

I still have his little collar
And his dog chews in the drawer
Still see his little scratches
On the back of the kitchen door

I thought of getting another dog
With a cute little face
But I used to have a puppy
That no dog could replace

So if you,ve got a pet
Please look after and take care
Cos I miss my little puppy
Now that he,s not there
Olivia Kent Mar 2014
Daddy, I want a puppy she said.
Eyes sparkled as wild diamonds.
Daddy obeyed precious daughters wishes.
Bought a her dog and gave her kisses.
Once he was an adorable puppy, with sloppy tongue and burst of nature.
Then poor sloppy, soppy puppy changed.
Well he didn't if  only you knew, his only offence was that he grew.
Suddenly wasn't a cuddly pup anymore.
Shoved alone in the garden.
He ate too much and bought with him  bills, needed walking over the hills.
Daddy was tired, and daughter grew too.
Daughter left home the lonely once puppy feels blue.
(C) Livvi
You have a cute little nose
And happy wagging tail
You lick me when I come home
You bark because there's mail
You sleep in my bed
And think my shoe is a toy
Sweet little puppy
You fill me with joy
Oh, little puppy
So loyal and true
I just want you to know
How much I love you !
i thought it was time for a change not only depressing poems but happy poems to
Joe Cole Aug 2014
Yep puppy sitting my daughters eleven week old
red fox Labrador *****
All long legs big feet and puddles of *** on the carpet
Oh dear, Mollie dogs not happy
This pup is into everything
The contents of my pockets now strewn over the floor,
Teeth marks in my very expensive cell phone
I wouldn't change anything
Its been eight years since Mollie dog was a puppy
And I'd forgotten what fun they can be
Anyway how do I explain to my daughter about
The scratches on Ambers' nose?
Well she learned the hard way about what happens
When a puppy investigates one of my boys
My boys Max and Merlin terrify the local dogs
Justin Apr 2015
The cute little puppy
who always wanted to be picked,
he'd lay on his belly
and roll over for a trick

but no matter how much he keeps on rolling
the people walked by
and kept ignoring

So this is when he decided to bark
and that was when the hitting would start.

This little puppy
now grows old
feeling sick
and needs a home.

But one day a door opens
and she walks by.
This lady in green
has now arrived.

She looks at him
deep in his eyes.
He starts to growl
she then realized

This puppy really needs a home
such one, he could call his own.
So she takes him, so far away
the puppy once again, began to play.
Here's a story for you
Donall Dempsey Oct 2017
( for Maureen )

She is teaching Timothy
to read

even though she
can't read herself.

Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words

with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story

off by heart she
could read it in the dark.

She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause

by rote
making great efforts

to teach Timothy
the puppy

but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in

the un-thrown stick.

Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.

"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.

Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.

Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.

"...upon a time
a long long time


Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress

with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it

travels over the words
the story's journey.

"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"

"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature

throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.

Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of

a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )

chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird

brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.
Amber May 2014
Puppy kisses sweet and meaningful
They are full of love
Never are they brutal
Or harmful
They don't break your heart
They are like sunshine

No judgment shows in their eyes
No hate flows from their mouths
They cuddle you even when you don't want it
They are there when your walls break down
And you can barely gasp for air

Even if you are mad at them
They still make you smile and feel wanted
I do not believe that any human can make you feel
The way a puppy does

Nothing smells like puppy breath
There are no words to describe
The smell at that age
It smells like sunshine on a cloudy day
Sidney Nov 2014
There once was a little beagle who was stuck in a deep puddle of mud.
The puppy struggled and struggled, only to become more exasperated.
Crying and pouting, the beagle finally gave up and let himself slide neck-deep into the mud.

He laid like this all night, until the next morning, only his brown-speckled head was atop of the mud pile.

A small child walked by the puddle and to him, he saw a giant mass of mud with a head.

The young boy screamed in horror, but ran closer to get a better glimpse. To his surprise, the beagle woke up and yelped to be free from the mud.  The little boy felt an immediate affection for the puppy and jumped into the mud puddle and pulled the dog out.

The lesson?

I'm still trying to figure this one out, too.

I'll let you know when I figure out the lesson behind this one.
Lawrence Hall Sep 2018
World leaders thunder denunciations

          But my dachshund puppy annoys the cats

Bombing planes fly in nuclear drills

          But my dachshund puppy just ate a moth

Religious leaders are shredding their files

          But my dachshund puppy barfed up that moth

I don’t know if I’ll lose my job next year

          But my dachshund puppy got spanked by Queen Cat

The fat boys on the radio yell a lot

          But my dachshund puppy is barking mindlessly

My senator says he stands up for the flag

          But my dachshund puppy is stealing the cat food

My president seems to play golf for the flag

          But my dachshund puppy is napping in the sun

          And the cats are quite happy about that
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Danziel Feb 2015
She loves me she loves me not
I love her but she loves me not
She has placed my feeling into a bind
I think I deserve it the way I played with her mind
I love her but something made me stop
I became infatuated with another and I think I really love her or maybe not

We have an idea of what love is
We're 2 young souls who barely even knows
Though we are chasing every little thing we see
Like pups who chases after bees not knowing these bees will sting

We play together and lay together
We play fight and we bite
Here comes something better they popped into our sight
Now off with something better we didn't try to fight

I love her she loves me not!
Now she loves me and and now I love her not
Puppy love last forever but it really does not.

-V.v.V. Ds
Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
murmuring desire for me.
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
please  us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
skin tight,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Maha Salman Nov 2015
I know a sad puppy
wandering the streets
going to bed
only pleading
for love
yet receiving none
only pain
as he's
left outside in the
once again,
trying to rise above the

in his heart
he soars the skies
with wings
made from the hope
that someone will love him
if not today.
Damian Murphy Apr 2015
A hairy ball of energy
Who loves to run and play,
Whose tricks and tomfoolery
Would brighten any day.
Almost hyperactive,
Without doubt lively,
Incredibly inquisitive,
Exploring constantly.

Chewing on everything,
Peeing everywhere,
Not fond of house training
but slowly getting there.
Extremely mischievous,
Just wants to have fun,
Loves to get pets from us,
Each and everyone.

Yapping so excitedly
At everyone and everything,
Such an incredibly funny
Lovable little thing.
Who looks at us imploringly
With great big brown eyes
That we fell in love totally
Should come as no surprise

This lovely little puppy
Right from the start
Became one of the family,
Captured every ones heart.
Masha Yurkevich Mar 2019
I dreamt of a flying dog.
This poor puppy
had a unique talent;
it could fly.
But it was
to show the others,
it was shy.
It was afraid
of what the others would reply.
Inspiration came to this puppy
when it saw a
flock of geese
fly by.
The poor puppy
covered its head with its paws,
and started to cry.
And that's where I come in.
I walked by
and say this poor puppy
standing by.
"Go on, little puppy,
go on, fly!
The puppy tried,
and flew with the geese,
and it was the most beautiful scene!
I felt so special
helping someone get somewhere
through there dreams.
The puppy flew,
as did my heart.
A true dream that inspired this poem.
MonkeyZazu Nov 2014
Innocent tornado of joy,
adorable wind of air,
I'm blown away
by your presence.

Your energy
simply put
raw exuberance,
overwhelms me
in to submission.

Caught in your gust
lost in your playful spin,
I never had a chance.

Your just too cute!! :)
#spiritscience - good topic carien XD
and we
won't just
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                                   and my
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free
Annie Helbrew Aug 2015
Puppies and puddles
Licks and hugs
Soft and lovable
Just look at their mugs
A smile on their face
a twinkle in their eye
they're just so sweet
no need to ask why.
Little wet kisses
soft gentle nuzzles
not very complicated
like crossword puzzles.
They arrive with love
and joy in their heart
just wanna share
and not be apart.
I'm on a train.

One of those red ones with black trimmed windows you can imagine rolling through the suburbs on the way to NYC. Not a subway car but a classier vintage with proper rows of cushioned seats and a lever to pull if there is an emergency. There are sparse shrubberies on one side of the tracks and the ocean on the other. Young trees and bushes stroll by.  A little wind is pushing off the ocean, massaging the car ever so gently back and forth as we move along. A gentle click-clack is on the tips of our ears.

We got on together. I hadn't known you for very long but the connection was stronger than anything I had ever felt or have since. You practically sat on top of me for the first few miles. Couldn't keep your hands off me,  staring in my eyes like you were searching for something lost but you couldn't remember what. The edges of your lips turned upwards permanently as if you were always at the verge of a laugh. You interlaced my fingers with yours and held on like you would be ripped away if your grip loosened for even a second. Slender fingers holding so tightly that they were becoming red.

You were excited to to be riding with me, about where we were going and all the things we would do when we got there. I would see you peer out of the corner of your eye, then lean over to brush your soft cheek against my budding stubble. Kissing and gently biting my lips insatiably. The suns rays coming in at an angle and lighting up your perfect smile and dimple.

I had to remind you we were in public.

I was lost in your blonde curls and the incense of your neck. I had fallen incredibly hard and so fast that my face hurt from smiling and my heart beat with vibrations I had never known. Not even a whiff of anxiety or neurosis. Some of the best memories of my life, as fleeting as they turned out to be.

I yawned and you put your finger in my mouth. I bent over to tie my shoe and you would poke my **** and laugh with your own reflection in the window, like this was the first and best joke of all time. Maybe it was and maybe it is.

The waiter came and informed us that a thing called "the bar car" existed. We both jumped at the idea. I didn't exactly notice at the time, during our excitement, but that's when the train started going faster and everything out the windows began to blur.

The bar car was a wild ride and we took advantage of our lo'cal. All kinds of fine wine, liquors and illicit substances were available. We tried them all. You were beautiful, your laugh infecting everyone around you, I was charming and held a captive audience.   It was a dark, loud and glorious blur. We were the life of the party and it chugged on till dawn.

We woke up in our seats, disheveled and discombobulated. It was dark out already. Did we sleep through the entire day? The train was slowing down, maybe approaching a station. The party was amazing but we were certainly paying the price for the black out. You moved over to the seat across from me to have some more space and lay down. I saw myself in the reflection. My hat, charm and smile from the night before had vanished. I must have left them in the bar car the night before.
      You had changed, beauty uninterrupted but different somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it. Irritated maybe? I invited you to cuddle and battle the hangover together but you ignored me. Like you couldn't hear me or didn't want to. I decided to let you be.

I got up to use the bathroom and thought I would go look for my scattered belongings. Maybe I could find a scrap of leftover dignity while you rested. I inquired to the conductor who directed me to the bartender in the bar car. He hadn't changed a bit, somehow untouched and unaffected by last nights antics that had effected me so dramatically.  Same black suspenders and white pressed shirt with impeccably slicked hair. I asked him what happened and if I had an open tab. While slowly polishing a rocks glass he looked up and made eye contact for a split second before looking away.
He said:  "Oh the bar car takes its toll. In the end we all end up paying one way or another". I still don't know what he meant by that or if he knew.
      I asked him if he found my hat and he said he would check the camera. We walked in to a small back room, while he was reviewing the tape, over his shoulder I noticed a tragedy.

We were drunk. I was going on to a group of new friends on one side of the bar, they were hanging on my words and I was eagerly explaining whatever nonsense they were drooling over. You were in the corner wearing that red dress I love, with your hair up in a tight bun. A few curls had escaped and brushed your high cheekbones, a thin line of pearls dancing delicately across your perfectly symmetrical collar. You were stunning and inebriated, swaying with each bump and motion of the train. A man wearing my hat put his hand on your side to keep you from swaying over and then he left it there.
I took a sharp breath.

It looked like you put your hand on his hand to move it but then it stayed and you both swayed together. As the air left my lungs and the blood drained out of my face I watched your lips touch the strangers. A small piece of my soul slipped away forever. I couldn't watch any further. When I asked the bartender how long it went on he fidgeted for a moment and uncomfortably muttered "quite some time". I never found my hat or the other part of me that left that day.  

The train slowed. I walked to the back, as far away from you as I could get, in utter disbelief. How could you? I thought to myself.
I mourned the loss of the you as I knew you yesterday, quietly and to myself. A tear  escaped my eye and rolled down my now fully formed stubble as I fell in to a random seat in mild shock. There were a few passengers back there so I had to pull together relatively quickly. After gaining some composure I knew it was time to get off. I knew we could never get back to yesterday morning though I would have said or done anything to do so.

The train had stopped. I went back to my seat and you were sleeping. I took my coat and gathered my things. The conductor looked at me confused as to why I would leave something so magnificent, I assume he had no idea what had transpired.   

I walked to the rear of the car and slid the door open slower than required. I stepped to the stairs and put one foot down on the step and the other on the ground. I stopped, rooted with my hand on the railing, lingering between two very different paths.
     I knew that it was time to get off, I knew this was the sensible thing to do, that I couldn't get past this offense regardless of how I had felt earlier the day before. The whistle screamed from the locomotive. The conductor looked at me and shook his head, I'm not sure if he was trying to tell me to stay or go but a decision had to be made.

The train lurched forward and I watched as the station slip away slowly. I sat in between the cars for a while and watched the ocean and birds. With a heavy heart and shoes I walked back to my seat. You were waiting. Crying. You knew. The bartender had told you. You didn't mean do do it, didn't realize what you were doing and thought it was me. He was wearing my hat and the whole world was blurry and dark.

I believed you. Self anguish mixed with alcohol was dripping from your pores. I knew you didn't mean it and were drunk, but could I ever forgive you or trust you again?

I loved you still.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection, a weaker version of myself looked back. As if an invisible chip in my teeth had developed and my shoulders lowered. The charming, confident man from the bar car the day before had been replaced. Something was off but not enough for anyone else to notice, just enough to know a change has happened.
       The train started to pick up speed again as we distanced ourselves from the station.  I second guessed my decision to stay but I didn't look back.

I found the man with my hat and punished him with a few blows in the dark. He knew he ****** up, apologized and took the beating like a man. I never got the hat back.

The engineer announced that we would be going through a tunnel soon and to turn on our lights and keep our hands in the windows.

It would be dark.  

We stayed away from the bar car for a while but the draw was irresistible. After a few hours we were there again but you never left my side.  Then you did. I was looking for you but you would disappear and not answer me when I called you name. The tunnel went deeper and darker and I didn't know where you were and I suspected you liked it that way. The train began to slow down again as we exited the tunnel.

I finally found you back at our seat, you had moved one row away from me. I asked you to come back, tried to hold your hands but you pulled away with vehemence. When I came back from the bathroom you had moved another row farther.
I knew I was losing you.
I begged you to return but you told me calmly that it was time for you to get off. At some point in the tunnel you had decided that you didn't want to go anymore . Your mind was made. You were going to catch another train at the next station.

When the train stopped I thought for sure you would reconsider but you didn't. Didn't even give it a thought. You just grabbed your coat and hat with one big bag under your arm. You kissed me on the cheek like a french stranger and were off. Going somewhere else on a different train. Just like that.

I rode the rails for quite some time by myself , many people getting on and getting off, passing me by. Every once in a while I would think I saw you at a station or in a **** though the window of another train. I often thought I could smell you but when I breathed deeper it was always gone. A ghost dancing on the edge of my senses.

A young girl in a headband got on the train. She was listening to headphones and dancing to herself as she bobbed along. She sat down in the seat next to me flashing a smile. She had a wedding ring on and I dismissed her immediately.  She didn't move from the seat or stop glancing my way. Eventually she confessed that she wanted to talk. I told her I wasn't interested but she persisted.  I hadn't talked to anyone on the train for quite some time and after some more mild persistence, I gave in.

We had a lot in common. We were both riding alone, desperately wanted attention and were thrilled to receive some.  After a few laughs she slid her hand in to mine and interlaced her fingers. I left it there. It was warm, comforting and wrong. She was married but I had been riding alone so long it felt good to have some company. She stayed and we talked. She was broken and I had a knack for fixing things. After a few hours of dramatic conversation I fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.

When I woke up  the train was flying up the track on the side of a mountain. Trees and rocks were a blur of green and grey. The engineer must be trying to make up for lost time I thought to myself.

The girl was asleep with her head on my lap. I looked down at her hand and the rings were gone. I woke her briefly to ask where they went. She said she didn't need them anymore and had thrown  them out the window.  She could of sold them, I said, but she said she just wanted them gone so she could be mine and fell back to sleep.  All of a sudden I couldn't breath. This train was roaring down the tracks, the once gentle click clack had become a loud hum. Suddenly too loud. This girl in my lap who had just gotten on the train wanted to stay. I considered her for a while as she looked up at me with big blue eyes, shining and wet, like a puppy in the shelter, terrified of rejection and desperate to be adopted.

At the peak of the mountain, just when the train began to even out, you waltzed back in to the car with a champagne flute in one hand and your bag in the other.

I don't know when or where you got back on, must have been a few stations ago when I stopped looking for you. Maybe you were wearing a disguise, who knows what you had been up to while you were gone. I'm not sure how long you were away but it was quite some time. That you had been through something was obvious, a new wrinkle had formed on your brow and you're once confident stride had changed to a cautious stroll. What actually happened out there I don't know.  I never asked and I don't want answers.

You looked at me and smiled. It was good to see that smile, like sun on my face on a brisk day.  You took a step toward me and then I looked down in my lap at the girl at the same time you did. I looked up. You and your smile were gone.

Everything I had begun to feel for this broken, head banded girl in my lap dried up like a puddle in  the dessert.  I quietly and gently nudged her awake and told her I had to use the bathroom. She put her head down on my coat and fell back into what ever trance she had been in, eyelids gently fluttering, eyes searching beneath them for what I would never give her.

I dashed up the isle and threw open the door, almost shattering the glass. The conductor glared at me and rolled his eyes as I barged past to the space between the cars.

There you were. Standing on the stairs with your head out the opening. The wind was blowing your perfectly formed curls around your head like a blonde explosion of familiarity. I yelled your name and you dove in to me. My senses erupted, my mind went numb as the train was nearing another station and I inhaled your essence greedily.

We moved to another car. I abandoned my coat with the married girl and never looked back. I hope she found what she was looking for. I  never could have been the answer she was so desperately seeking but I know I  helped steer her towards it.

You told me you had encountered some other people out there on the rails and they had reminded you of what we had when we first left the station. I never forgot.  

The train started to rock and get going again. We were back in the bar car and starting to brown out. We had to get off of this train right ******* now. In a desperate moment we looked at each other and put our hands, together, on the emergency brake cord. I looked in your eyes with your hand on top of mine. You kissed me while yanking down on the cord. Time slowed, the breaks squealed and everything exploded throwing luggage, people and the entire contents of the bar car in to a nondiscriminatory chaos . We got up off the ground, ran to the end of the car, dove off the side in to a soft patch of grass and rolled down a small incline. We watched as the conductor sifted through  the mess and interrogated the passengers, trying to ferret out the party responsible for pulling the brake. He spotted us off the side of the tracks and shook his fist while shouting every conceivable obscenity combination.

We laughed, held each other in the grass and kissed deeply.

We watched the train pick up speed and disappear in to the hills as relief spread over me.

You interlaced your fingers in to mine and we both looked out to where the tracks disappeared into the horizon, wondering how far of a walk it was to the next station.
Gunjan Jan 2013
He lies by the road,
this little creature I love,
With eyes that can weaken a heart,
A tail that rises above.

Why you so silly puppy?
Your innocence breaks my heart.
He jumps and runs without a care in the world
and gets scared by his own ****.

I cradle him in my arms
like he's my own little child
He playfully tugs on my shirt
With teeth small and mild.

I laugh when he topples over
my crazy little fawn
He loves his tummy tickles
and lets out an occasional yawn.

The 30 minutes i spend with him
Is the happiest time of my day
Its funny how this little stranger
makes my sorrows drift away.
Em Glass Apr 2013
it wasn't snowing yet, but they'd told us it would.
probably I said something infantile, about how
I could smell it, the frostiness of snowflakes in the
air, because you smiled that knowing smile of yours,
like you were an adult and i was a child and you
didn't have the heart to take my innocence away.

that look always made my heart smile, sadly, and
it also drove me up a wall, partly because it made
me want to hug you close and pity you the
burden of assumed moral superiority, and whisper
that you, too were a child. but mostly because you
were right— I clung to my naiveté while you, you
had already had the good sense to push it away.
it followed you around with sad puppy eyes, but
you knew it and you kept it at arm's length.
you brave, brave soul.

when it did start to snow I wasn't surprised. you
were. you didn't say anything. we were in
a deserted school hallway, listening, removed
from the other kids' cries. we were
delighted too, but the others wanted to run home
early, and we knew the definition
of home better than they. and I can speak only for
myself but it seemed we both wanted only to stay
forever side by side, tucked away in our corner,
me reveling in the softness of love and friendship
and winter, you trying to be there with me but having
trouble leaving your mind, where that sad-eyed
puppy snapped at your heels. it whimpered
but you held your own.

and slowly, we built up moments like this one.
we wallowed in each other and in the coziness
of cloudy days. we read good poetry and
heard good music and took photographs as we
discussed life from our  softer world.
there were moments of such pure white happiness
that they came full circle to being sad,
simply because I knew I would never be that
happy again, and I was not wrong, and I didn't
want to be. and we had
sad moments, too, never ever think I am not
happy to be sad with you.

and slowly, too, your innocence knew its
defeat, and sat obediently at your feet,
and we shared things.
but I was a child, and a weak one at that, and
God knew I was not as strong as you so she
gave me no great suffering to speak of, to
share with you. no way to reciprocate the
vulnerability you gave, and that in
itself was suffering for me.

I regret that I was not good at saying things.
that while
you had to be your own adult and push childhood
away, I clung hopelessly to mine as
I discovered me and watched it slip
from my small hands.

among the plethora of reasons I can give for
bitterly hating sunny days is the
way the sun slanted through the window and lit
up your eyes and swilled particles around
your face like fairy dust on the day you reached
out and pulled my lanyard over your own neck.
look, you said, content. almost proud.
I'm wearing a bit of you around my
and you wove it through your
sunlit fingers, eyes bright. you tugged on it,
lightly. that's what love does, it strangles
you. and we all want it.

and I gasped at the way that word sounded,
so harsh in such beautiful sunlight on such
a soft face. but I don't want to strangle
. I said that. thoughtlessly,
instinctively. I regret it every day. in that regard,
you gave me a strength, but it's no german shepherd—
you are so **** strong.

when your ache tugged and tugged at you,
tore you from reality, or brought you closer to it,
it slipped its finger into that lanyard knot. loosened it.
I could have reached out right then, as you had when you
pulled the sun-soaked string over your head, and
tightened it. tightened us. been a friend.

I didn't tug the knot. if you run.
when you run,
I know that two grown dogs
will follow after you, blocked
from the sun by your receding shadow.
Jamie Aug 2014
At times you seem perfect
But when you don't reply
I die inside

All I think when I see you
Is how you looked
The day I woke you up

The look of..
Let me sleep..
But its nice being with you

Where, for a second
I felt you wanted me.
Why can't that be everytime?
Think it's finally time to give up
Shari Forman Mar 2013
… “Ready Scarlett; one, two, two and a half, three,” said dad looking as proud as ever.

It was my eighteenth birthday, the one and only year that I finally would graduate from High School. The ecstatic moment when I get my diploma and the rush I would get from wanting to rapidly pursue my career. I knew that I’d surely get a scholarship in life science, all about animals. The one and only thing that blockaded my chances of having a future life was me having to suffer from diabetes and few heart problems. Other than that, I was in for all new surprises.

“Scarlett Perkins, would you now gracefully make your way up for your diploma.”

The principal of the school should’ve spoken louder so people could hear, but when I smiled, he got a warm feeling and smiled right back. I know I’m not supposed to make a speech or even say anything, but meaning I’m officially finished with high school and by law, allowed to live on my own, I thought I’d say something that my family would never forget.

“Thank you Principal Williams.” “I will always strive to improve on what I struggle with the most. I am proud of myself as an honor student and will always think positively. Whether it’s finding a cure for my heart problems, leaving my best friends behind to let them pursue their careers, or finding someone to love and to cherish for the rest of my life; preferably Jewish and good looking…

Audience laughs

“I will work up to my very best and even further if possible. Thank you all for your time.”

Audience claps and cheers me on.

“Well, time to go to sleep ladies and gentleman, as the day is officially now over.” “I’m really proud of you Scarlett. You sure have the guts to get up there and give a fantastic speech, you see, I have barely any guts left; kids beating me up in your grade, but overall, I’m good.”

All I could do at that point was listen and smile at his humorous jokes.

It was a long car ride home with the window ajar and my mom having to stop short at every yellow light. It is just her thing now a day’s. My brother, James, was wearing his usual, yet casual, short-sleeved shirt with coterie shorts.

I had to open the window fully as if the humidity increased
about ten percent in the last few minutes. My graduation gown made me sweat even more and feel much overheated. My mom was wearing her new, loose fitting blouse with jean shorts. I would have to admit, my dad looked rather cool with his dark shades on even though it looked as if it was impossible to see through them.

“I’m very proud of you Scarlett. Hey, who knew that such a bright girl could make a speech like that,” said dad.

“Thanks dad, it wasn’t that hard to make a speech like that. I was more excited then nervous,” I said.

“So Scar, who’s having this graduation party honey?” Said mom.

“Mom, it’s just going to be a party with my close friends and maybe a few kids from school. Jake said he might be able to come too.”

“Ooh, Scarlett and Jake…” said my brother.

“Are you really going to be that immature on my graduation day?”

My brother and I always end up arguing about something. James lay back, looking relaxed while listening to his I-pod.

We arrive home at about once thirty eager to see our grandparents whom we haven’t seen in ages. They were on my dad’s side of the family.

“Hey, what’s cooking mom, dad?” said Dad.

Mom and dad both walk over to greet grandma and grandpa as well as James and I.

“My James, you’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you. Oh, and older too”, said grandma.

“Yeah, I just turned fourteen a couple of months ago,” said James.

“And who have we here?” “Happy eighteenth birthday Scarlett.” said Grandma.

… My friends pick me up at about six at night. They are the kind of friends that you would call very fortunate. Chelsea’s car is a silver Honda that costs close to the amount of $20000. To tell the truth, I don’t know how and where she gets that kind of money from as only a teenager. I know only one thing; she doesn’t have a job yet.

I got my first and only job about a week ago at a pet shop explaining to people how to care for certain animals.

“Chelsea, how long is the party till?”

“Till around ten,” replied Chelsea.

“How many people are going to be there,” I asked.

“Don’t worry so much Scarlett; they’ll be about twenty of the people from school that we know.” Said Tory from the backseat of the car

“Okay, no more questions.” I said. “Party it up baby!”

Chelsea, Tory, Veronica and Katy all smile and laugh at my remark. I smile as well.

We all arrive at the party ten minutes later. She was right on account of about twenty other graduates from school there. After all, Chelsea’s house looked spectacular!

She had a sign with big letters saying, “We’re the 2005 graduates!” Boy I felt so proud of myself and for once, relaxed.

“So I think It’s really cool that you are interested in animals. I love that subject as well. Great speech Scarlett!” said a girl named Rachel from school

“Thanks a lot Rachel,” I replied as I went to get a cup of water.

Something slowly wrapped around me as I was pouring a glass of water.

“Whoa, you scared me there for a second.”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m that much of a creeper Scarlett,” replied Jake.

The DJ (graduate) started to play some popular, current music in which we could all dance to. I head with Jake to the center of Chelsea’s enormous living room to go and dance with everyone else. I knew Jake for a long time now and he definitely out danced everyone on the dance floor with his cool moves.

The music started to get so loud that I couldn’t hear myself talk or even think for that matter.

“Hey Katy and Veronica, I’m going to go outside for a little bit. Can you please tell Chelsea if you see her?” I said.

“What’d you say?” said Veronica in a loud tone.

“Never mind.” I replied.

I took a couple of steps, then straight to the ground while holding my chest. Jake ran over to me like lightening.

“Scarlett, are you okay?” “Scarlett, Scarlett, Scarlett!” cried Jake with fear in his eyes.

It eventually got to the point where I fully blanked out, not being able to hear or see a thing.

...When I woke up, I was a little scared and baffled as to where I was and what happened. I further noticed my mom and dad looking as nervous as ever by the look of their faces, and my boyfriend Jake coming towards me frantically.

“Oh, my God Scarlett, are you alright? You look so pale sweetheart,” said dad softly.

“What happened honey? Do you feel dizzy or motionless? Said mom extremely worried.

“Did I blank out or something? Oh, I feel so dizzy and I have a migraine.” I said helplessly.

I moaned hopelessly and tried falling back to sleep. That didn’t work because I also had another part of emotion on me and that was guilt. I felt terrible that I ruined the most important party of my life, and possibly, the last party I’ll ever go to.

“It’s going to be okay Scarlett. I’ll ask the doctor to give you some Advil for your headache and please try to get some rest. Try not to think about the pain in your chest.” said Jake.

I know he was trying to be nice to try and help me and cheer me up, but visualizing pain in my chest felt painful to me and I tried not to cry.

He smiled at me holding my hand. I smiled back at him hugely.

“I’ll be right back sweetie.”

About five minutes later, the doctor came to check up on me.

“Hello Scarlett; Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, I’m doctor Isenman.”

“Nice to meet you said dad.”

“I’m just going to ask you Scarlett, how much pain do you have from one to ten?” said the doctor.

“Eight, I replied without any enthusiasm; my head still on my pillow with my eyes shut.”

The doctor turned from having a smile to a serious frown. The doctor told me to drink a lot of water to prevent the suffrage of dehydration. Dr. Isenman also told me to take it easy and try to relax for the next couple of days. I vowed to take his advice because he was definitely right.

“Scarlett, you have a very high fever of 103.5. I want you to drink every cup of water to ease the fever.” said the doctor.

“Okay,” I said without lifting my head or opening my eyes.

As the doctor leaves, I see Jake coming back with Motrin in which he probably got from one of the nurses and an ice pack.

“Put this on your head scar to ease the fever.” said Jake.

“Thanks for staying with me Jake, but you don’t have to stay much longer. You should go home and rest.” I said.

“I want to stay with you though.

He paused.

“I don’t know if now would be a good time to tell you that I got a scholarship in football for the whole season; but, I did.” said Jake.

“Wow Jake, that’s amazing; very impressive. You’ll be the star quarterback.” I said.

“I hope so; thanks Scarlett, and one night in the hospital couldn’t hurt, right?” said Jake.


… “How are you feeling baby?” said mom.

“It’s morning already, I’m feeling much, much, much better now!”

“That’s very, very, very great.” said dad.

Jake walks up to me with a grin on his face.

“So I heard you’re feeling better?” said Jake.

“Yeah, I’m feeling good.”

“So I was thinking, how about just you and I see your favorite singer, Billy Joel, in concert this Saturday.” said Jake.

He pulled out two tickets from his front pocket and my face enlightened greatly.

“Oh, my God! Are you serious? Thank you so much Jake! That sounds like a terrific idea! Thank you so much; this was so nice of you.” I said.

“You have to have some fun after a miserable; well half miserable birthday.” said Jake.

“You’re the nicest guy I ever met Jake.”

He leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. We both smile and my parents, brother, Jake and I, walk out of the hospital very serene and calm.

The next day, I found myself working overtime in Joe’s Pet Shop. I was already used to all the animals there and treated them as if they were my own pets. One of the animals, a puppy, I had a very strong connection with and knew very well.

A lady walked in the pet shop with a girl that looked about my age, if not, older.

“Excuse me Scarlett, can I take out that puppy just to play with?” said the girl.

She scared me for a second when she called me by my name, but then I realized I had been wearing a nametag.

“Sure,” I said. “No problem.”

“Thanks, do you live around here?” she asked.

“Yeah, I live right near the mall. Michigan’s great.” I said.

“Yeah, I agree.

“Do you go to high school here?” I asked.

“That’s great; I just graduated from high school here about two days ago.”

“Wow, congrats! Oh, sorry; when I talk it can be forever. My name’s Amanda.” She said.

I laughed at the thought of her when I was the one who’d talk till sun down.

“So here’s our little puppy.”

Soft and not afraid, one who would strongly adore all thee who gave it no arm; all affection and this little puppy grew with happiness every time.

Five minutes later, my companion and I settled down on the smooth carpet, chatting intensely.  I nice, lonely girl she was, or assumed to be, and my companion and I went to extraordinary places; unforgettable times I shall cherish for the rest of my life. The park, where children jumping around of all sizes, smiled of the excitement, no stress, of their day. As I listened deeply to my companion, she had something wrong with her as well. Not just any sickness for that matter, diabetes, the poor thing suffered from. I now knew, my friend and I had much in common; she felt as a younger sister to me in a way; a good way.

… The next day, my lover, Jake and I were walking eagerly to the C.L.D.I. Stadium in Michigan.

“Are you excited Scarlett?” said Jake, nearly alarming me there.

“Yeah, definitely.” I responded with all emotions there.

On the way to the concert, I told him aout my friend and how she was like a close companion to me. She was a nice, clean girl with a bright future.

“This concert is amazing Jake!”

“What’d I tell you.” And to top it all off, front row seats.” said Jake trying to sound cool.

All of a sudden, right before my very eyes, the place turns pitch black, the lights flickering on and off; showing different colors all at once. This was something I wasn’t used to at all.

Jake started getting up and singing and dancing to the music. His dancing was cowardly, but his singing was reasonably good. He got me to my feet and started dancing with me when there were fun and slow songs.

Halfway through the concert I got a phone call from my friend. She sounded as if she couldn’t breathe the whole time. The words I could make out were “Can’t breathe… help and Joe’s Pet shop.

“I have to go Jake; I’m very sorry. Thank you for inviting me, but this is an emergency. Bye Jake.” I said quickly.

As I ran out of the stadium to my car, I drove my stick shift car with full speed ahead. Honking my horn to make cars go faster didn’t seem to work well, but I got there in less than ten minutes.

About fifty police cars were lined up near the pet store. The sound of sirens of a police car going off gave me butterflies. And, right before my eyes lay my companion dead on the ground. In total shock I was, having chills at the moment. Amanda’s parents were crying while their dearest daughter had been taken to the hospital. I knew right then and there… She wasn’t coming back. My good friend, my nicest friend, had died before my eyes and she wasn’t coming back.

… At the hospital, I viewed nurses and doctors trying to pump her chest with air and taking her blood pressure. Everything was spinning inside my head and I didn’t know what to say.

… There was no pulse, the doctor told her parents as I was praying for her. My friend, Amanda, had done nothing wrong to deserve this. Luckily, God spared my life, yet, there was nothing to be done to spare my friend’s life.

— The End —