"puppydog" poems
i find myself curious about a boy
that stares at me as if he knows
i don't know what he knows
but he knows something
i think its about me
but he stares
and be blushes when i catch him
which is quite often
he has big sad puppydog eyes
and honestly
i would like to see happiness in them
i want to see a smile on his lips
that would match his eyes
he looks at me
behind square glasses
and white earbuds
shoved into his ears
playing loud music
and i am curious about him.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC
This is our blitz, puppydog, I said,
dragging him away from the whizzbangs
echoing green and purple off shopfronts.
My Chuchundra scuttled ground-bellied
from fallen ******* bags spilling guts
like casualties of war
and hoodlums tremendous in commando gear
who set off peonies and chrysanthemums
before charging triumphant down alleyways.
We go home. I’m happy to leave these heroes
the soda from the Catherine wheels,
and the drizzle, for which London has yet to apologise.
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 6:51 AM UTC
I carried you on my back
Like a sack of potatoes.
Back and forth and back and forth
Caught between Daddy Issues and
Words that call forth memories
That call forth pain that call forth
Vomiting Monday nights before therapy.
All of our VHS boxes are packed up neatly
In the attic between old photo albums of
Broken family after broken family after
Generations who don’t know each other’s
Stories. We’re ****** up.
That’s all we’ve ever been as a family.
And she sings jellyfish clouds
While he rhymes puppydog tears
Somewhere between the nature of agender,
One gender, two gender, red gender, blue gender.
They’re the first kid in generations to write.
They’re the first kid in generations to escape.
They’re the first kid in generations with mirtazapine dreams.
And no one lets them forget it.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
"Be careful she doesn't get bored with you next
It's a long way to ** f
a
l
l**
."
That line popped into my head
The other day
& it's been rattling around inside
Ever since.
It's from one of my favorite books.
A book that says many true things.
I
Don't know.
It just crept inside my thoughts
& grabbed on tight.
"It's a long way to fall."
Sometimes I wonder if I am a replacement.
Maybe it's because
You aren't-
Most people are,
See.
Paper dolls
Placeholders
For the people I can't have close.
I've kissed glass lips before
Gazed through see-through collarbones
& seen only my reflection
Distorted in translucent eyes.
Sometimes they fall & break
In shards on the floor
& I see my tears
In all the little pieces.
But you
Are
Flesh.
Sometimes I ask myself
If I resent it.
I don't think I do.
(& I resent
That.-
"IT'S A LONG WAY TO FALL.")
Because I wonder,
Every so often,
If I am a paper doll to your porcelain.
If I am a poor [wo]man's lover,
Good enough . . . .
[For now.]
I don't like those thoughts.
Maybe they are where jealousy starts,
But I feel none.
(I am glad of that-
It is the ugliest feeling I know of.)
But I do wonder, all the same,
If I am only the best
You can do
Just now.
I hate wondering that.
I hate it because I shouldn't care to wonder,
("it'salongwaytofall!")
& I hate it because I should think it's more ridiculous
Than I do.
I looked by accident
In[T]o puppydog eyes the other d[A]y
Begging for attention
At the dinner table
& I heard it li[K]e b[E]lls
"[IT]'s a long way to f[ALL]."
& mostly I do dismiss it,
The possibility that sometimes seems
Very real,
That I am a passing fad-
"It's a long way to fall."
The nagging inkling that ma[Y]be
I'm n[O]t special-
Just
New.
& that I will pass
Like aut[U]mn,
& my leaves fall
& the pretty colors gone
[W]ill leave me bare & ugly
& l[I]feless al[L] over again.
The passing thought that perhaps
The universe is speaking to me & not you,
That maybe the message is
"It's a
[L]ong
*Way
To*
[ F A L L." ]
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
A beautiful face
A tender embrace
A smile that
Leads you astray
With puppydog eyes
That serve to disguise
Her deceitful lies
On the way
You’ll act and pretend
Let your tolerance bend
Tell yourself you’ll believe
What she’ll say
Now you know you’re a fool
But you’ll break every rule
Just as long as with you
She will stay
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 3:53 AM UTC
Sometimes when it gets dark
I scroll down my friend's blog.
She wants to **** herself.
I want to tell her I won't see her in hell.
That those pictures of starving women, all bones with skin stretched across like canvas
Aren't lovely.
They're obscene.
She makes me feel so mean
Hating her like I do when I see another silent moving picture
Of a girl swinging from rope
And another self indulgent sentence or two
About how she wishes that was her.
I want to tell her she hasn't earned her right to give up.
That nobody has.
She makes me wonder if I am cold and heartless,
Or just a self-hate survivor.
I remember feeling like I'd already died
Underground in the silence of all that dirt
Thinking it should be more peaceful than it was.
I never gave up.
I suppose maybe the reason I hate her so much
For her indulgences
Is not that I see myself as better,
But instead the lingering impression that when I was that way
I was the weakest
Most abhorrent
Most useless little smudge on the cold silver mirror of living,
And I still kept on.
Maybe it's not that I think I'm better than she is
But that I know I was worse
And I don't want anyone giving up
When they're all stronger than me.
Don't want to see a quitter more capable than I am
When I- even I, the pandering puppydog weakling-
Never gave in.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:02 PM UTC
Sit. Lie down. Heel.
Now stay.
Your puppydog boy does whatever you say.
And he’s always around if you’d like to play.
I knife in my heart when you look his way.
But aren’t I allowed to be happy? you say.
O happy dagger, I’ll play dead today.
Does he *** on the floor if you don’t take him out?
If you don’t rub his belly, does he puppydog pout?
Does he sleep all curled up at the foot of your bed?
Do you ever wish he understood what you said?
Does he lick your face? I bet he begs at the table.
Do you give him a ‘treat’ if he always obeys? Well,
As nice as slobbering mutts can be,
All of that nonsense just isn’t for me.
Me? I like graceful, quick-witted, refined-
The persuasion I lean towards is rather…
Feline.
I might not roll over whenever you say,
And perhaps I don’t melt when you look my way-
No tenderness do I let myself betray,
For I know what it takes to make you run away-
Maybe you cannot control our affair,
But there is a freedom in feelings laid bare.
You think you have everything you want right here,
But you don’t fool me- I know what you fear.
You couldn’t have made it the least bit more clear:
It’s feeling that scares you; you let no one near.
Because once you do, what if they disappear?
Ah, but that is the price of real happiness, dear.
But find a nice leash to hold onto your beau,
And pretend you are satisfied with what you know.
Where I am concerned, you’re so full of doubt:
Although I seem tame, that’s what you’re worried about.
For puppydogs follow wherever you go,
But where a cat travels, no one may know…
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
Puppydog heaven
Hold me in the sun
She is in madness, she is in REM
Blind bunny
I love you and I love you
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 4:16 PM UTC