"veterinarian" poems
When taking your pet to the vet
There's one thing you mustn't forget:
If your vet's a queer,
Keep guard on your rear
(Or a ******** would be a good bet).
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Born like a kid,
Believed like a child,
Thought like a philosopher,
Depressed like a prisoner,
Felt like a sinner,
Hated like a lawyer,
Ate like a veterinarian,
Lied like a politician,
Read like a historian,
Saw like a physician,
Slept like a pharmacist,
Smelt like a scientist,
Spoke like a priest,
Heard like an economist,
Loved like a counselor,
Tasted like a rich bachelor,
Worked like a tool,
Cheated like a fool,
Walked like a diplomat,
And died like a cat.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC
I remember the first time
I felt panic, I
Had been raised in a beautifully-constructed world of my mother’s making where I could
Take my time and step from subject to subject like hopscotch or skipping rope because I wanted to know it all
Drinking it all in, soaking in knowledge like a bath
Learning everything there was to learn
Leaving no stone unturned
No one told me I couldn’t
Swirl my fingertips in acrylics, read books on horses having *** at age seven because I wanted to be a veterinarian, hit the soprano notes though I was an alto, crush dandelions into healing potions, create a world on a stage with crying child actors, nick cardboard boxes and clocks because I knew I could move time backwards
Then I grew up and
The grown-up world was not so forgiving
Examinations, papers, time clocks, meetings, expectations I could not meet with the excellence my soul craved
I can’t breathe
Fear had a choke-hold on my throat
My mouth would dry, then wet as my stomach swirled and groaned with nausea
My hands turned into ice picks
My heart screamed like a jackhammer in concrete
Every possible worst-case, best-case, win-win, lose-lose, lose-win scenario would rush and overthrow my amygdala like a union mob besieging an abusive factory that never closes, never lets them rest
I didn’t realize it was because the only way to do it all and be it all and hit every deadline and finish every task was to sacrifice perfection, to become average, mediocre
Assimilate
And I learned the truth
That that was all the world expected of me anyway
You see there is no patience for anything else in the real world
I can’t breathe
I have no emotion, only thought processes
Paralyzing, debilitating clash between suppressed desires to take my time, create, innovate, learn and the overwhelming need to
Focus, decide, move faster, work harder, be on time, be better, please everyone, be everything
Be nothing
To where the only choice is let go of that part of yourself or go insane
So I shed my skin like it was a sin I was leaving behind
Just to survive
Without the headaches, the heartbreak, ripping my hair out over stupid little mistakes
It’s taken this long to find it in my closet again
To not be afraid
Of the soul it takes to
Perfect
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
Once when we were children,
We would run to here and there.
Across the hills of our homeland
With the wind in our fair hair.
The sun would shine
The rain would fall,
Never to hinder our play.
And all that could stop us
Was the call of our mothers
At the darkening of each day.
Sticks became our swords back then,
Keen of edge and shining bright.
The willow became our fortress
To defend until the night.
And when our foes were weeping
Once more we became the child.
Fast asleep we were sleeping
Imagination running wild.
We got that little bit older,
That ever bit more bolder.
Ambition came to soon.
We went to school
Were told what to do,
And all that we could be.
Some said 'Spaceman'
One 'Veterinarian'
The wise child said 'Happy'
"No No! You need a profession"
Seemed to be the moral of that lesson.
But the teacher didn't understand the question
That she asked.
For her days of dreaming
And childish scheming
Were lost in a distant past.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 10:06 AM UTC
I understand where you’re coming from. “It’s sick. Let’s fix it.”
I might be an animal, but you’re no veterinarian.
This horse might not be dead, yet, but you’re not the right person to kick it over.
Let sleeping dogs lie, even if they’re having a bad dream.
I’d rather be a horse; I’d rather be a dog, than what I am now.
I need help, but you’re not helping.
Please, please stop trying.
You will only make things worse.
You will only wake the dog.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
At 6 she wanted to be a ballerina
At 8 she wanted to be a veterinarian
At 10 she wanted to be a teacher
At 13 she wanted to be pretty
At 16 she wanted to be dead
But..
At 18 she graduates high school
At 20 she studies for her final
At 22 she gets her diploma
At 24 she finds her career
At 26 she whispers "I do"
At 28 she holds her new born child
At 30 she wipes her tears and says
"I made it"
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
the land very well of my tongue but I was asked to know the tongue of my land in the tongue of my land. doc the veterinarian hired me anyway. I was to myself in the dog cages and in their runs I would kneel and let the hose seize with water. I was to myself in the sick and brick room fearful the slow cat would rent with its curl my stomach. I was to myself when the parrot so parrot told me in so many words separated partially its upper bill on purpose. was I dumped the dogs full asleep and half from a wheelbarrow into a pit and I in trouble doing it when we were busy. was I would basket my arms upside down above three dogs a day at most while the needle made sometimes the back of my hand and somehow on that four dog day my chin such that it got me my funny talk and fired and I had to tell my home early dad.
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 1:15 PM UTC
if i had an eternity
i wouldn't apologize for the things i said
but things i didn't say
because silence kills more than words
and isn't it funny
how jesus is in our hearts
but god can't stop the suffering
every atheist
has been an agnostic
and i am on my knees asking
for god to take me
instead of that seven year old boy
but god takes him instead of me
and the last thing he said to me was
"i want to be an astronaut"
and i suppose
none of it really matters
because the seven year old me
wanted to be a veterinarian
but the seventeen year old me
just wanted to make it through the day
i'm wondering
if the seven year old inside of me
is still alive
or maybe god had taken her too
someone once told me
that there's a kid inside all of us
i think
mine is trapped in my rib cage
my bones are the cell
and my veins are the noose
that threatens to take her life
if she acts up
and maybe
i am the warden
of this prison
the cigarettes and the blades
are what's keeping me in power
i want to throw them out
if not for me but for her
every agnostic
has been an atheist
and i am lying in my bed telling
the seven year old girl inside of me
that she can come out now
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
it was that metallica in moscow
prompt that got me started,
obviously the real relationship ended
and the writing began;
but what can you do?
as a child i wanted to become a veterinarian,
but god, why a poet?
it’s usually those who wished otherwise
who become mozarts in the unwanted category
of being themselves... just so there’s some sort
of anaesthetic expressed by ease and fluidity,
and apathy, and automation;
writing doesn't have to be of a lofty/ aloof
ontological orientation... it just has to be basic,
and true... it has to have a quality
where truth translates itself as fiction...
and you begin lying to yourself on paper.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Lymphoma
There was a fundraising run for lymphoma and other cancers
A little notice for it on top of the garbage can
at a home grown Jamba Juice right off the BART in Berkeley
It hit home: what I was up against
People don't run through the streets casually
and my cat had lymphoma
I couldn't find him last night for the first time
He had his weekly appointment and I brought in
something that didn't look at all like he was the week before
They paged the vet and she came in
saying thing like he needed an IV and tests and
wasn't there nothing else to do
didn't she say that
he needs hospitalization--his liver
we can't tell you what to do
but it would all go in a circle and come back
to a suffering being who had
come to the end of what science could do for him
what she was trying to tell me in her barrage of words
came through loud and clear
They brought him in
with a blanket and a catheter
and he struggled until he got warm and then rested
I wanted him to see me, as the last thing he saw in this world
She took the three syringes out of her white coat
Don't hurt him, just don't hurt him
my only request
There was no pain
Only relaxation, sleep and then at last no heartbeat
Her ability, her smoothness of execution was perfect
and he went limp in my arms
not suffering
The nurse took his body away
"It's the last gift we can give them" she said
and I imagined a man, a stereotypical
image of a man pacing back and forth in a white coat in front
of a lecture hall full of vet students saying that
exact thing and there was a serious air in the classroom and some wrote this down,
it was so true, sound, capable and final
but this woman said it
this veterinarian from Michigan
and through my tears and grief
there was some kind of undercurrent
of relief, that there is no more pain for him
He no longer suffers
and I did all I could do
Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
When I was 5 I wanted to be a doctor
Until I realized I cried every time I needed a shot
Winced when I saw someone fall
And wanted to ***** when I saw blood.
When I was 7 I wanted to be a veterinarian
Until I realized I was more connected to animals
Than I was to humans
And I cried every time my dog so much as limped.
When I was 10 I wanted to be a teacher
Until I realized I could never let my students go
And would be too concerned about what they’re going through
That I wouldn’t even know what to teach them.
When I was 13 I wanted to be a lawyer
Until I realized I shook every time something bad happened
And if I ****** at arguing with my brother
How could I argue for someone’s future?
When I was 15 I wanted to be a CEO
Until I realized people would have to know my name
And I’d have to tell them what to do
When I didn’t even know what I was doing.
When I was 17 I wanted to be an author
Until I realized I couldn’t even read my own work
Let alone let my family and friends read it
Let alone let strangers read it.
When I’m grown up
All I really want to be
Is so content with where I’m at
That I don’t need to look too far in the future.
When I grow up
I just want a roof over my head
A job I love
And a family that loves me.
When I grow up
I don’t care what I’m doing
Or where I am
As long as I’m happy.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
Cocoa. My mom's whole world. Her pride and joy. She's in real trouble folks. Last night she consumed over an ounce of dark chocolate. She also got into chicken bones. She needs divine intervention. We can't afford to take her to the veterinarian again. All prayers and good thoughts are appreciated. I am weeping. She's an important member of our family. She may only be a dog. The she is as important to God has anyone else. And my mother would be devastated by her loss.
I may not be able to read this morning. I'm going to be in My Sanctuary on the front porch praying. I'm not going to church because my job now is to watch after the dog. She is a beautiful little animal. A deer head chihuahua. The original breed of that dog. She was the companion animal to the Toltec. Very rare because she is also a brindle brown. I saved her from an abusive puppy mill ******* and raised her all on my own. I love her. I have no children. She's my baby. Please help. Thank you.
PLEASE REPOST THIS SO OTHERS SEE IT! I don't care about stats. But Cocoa needs all the good thoughts and prayers she can get! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
Catherine :')
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
There was an old man, I once knew
Peaches was the name he used
He was the drunk, set on our trunk
his body old and abused
Sharing his beer with an old horse
who caroused in the end stall
Each day by three, they'd walk by me
and stumble but never fall
His liver was a lace doily
alcohol pickled him thin
He'd been turned down, all over town
no one ever took him in
He drank his beer with ole Nellie
she could tip a bottle too
Swig and sway, like Don Quixote
as they staggered, swirling, brew
We were headed for the races
this blustery afternoon
Each planned the trip, we had to ship
I knew we'd be leaving soon
From where we trained at the fairground
we carted them to the track
Where all would race, and take what place
each earned in front or in back
Peaches rode in back of the truck
so he could drink the whole way
My uncle said, he'd soon be dead
drinking had seen his decay
We sat apart from others there
he and I were best of pals
He'd tell me tales, of life’s travails
while I ogled all the gals
That day he shared a sordid tale
of pain he caused his own son
He had shouldered blame, bore the shame
for this thing that he had done
Back when he was just a young man
a pillar of support
He took his boy, his life’s great joy
to play their favorite sport
They went to a picnic that day
he had drank one too many
On the way, to watch his son play
of fears he hadn't any
His boy was riding in the back
not thinking they skipped the seat belt
He'd rolled his car, the door ajar
surprise was all he had felt
His boy was tossed out in a field
sweet clover of timothy
The child's light hair, seen lying there
remembered so vividly
"I was a Veterinarian"
said Peaches to my surprise
"I went insane, called out in vain
but God never heard my cries"
"So now I ride where I belong
In back of my self-made bar
Hoping he, will come to take me
by tossing me from the car"
Just then a tear fell from his cheek
the pain enveloped me too
Here cried a man, much deeper than
any of us ever knew
Tate
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 2:12 PM UTC
.*i can think of one cool job... a nighttime DJ on a radio station... anything more cool than being a DJ between the hours 12am through to 5am? honestly... can't think of a cooler job... all the song requests are gone from the classical.fm show between 3pm and 5pm... now one is telling you what to do... **** me... as a kid... either a veterinarian, or an owner of a music shop... now? an insomniac DJ... they would never play Christopher Young's Something to Think About in the afternoon... sorry... i'm a Hellraiser cult-follower of the first two movies... and that song? why? i just can't be bothered with listening to that Braveheart over-scratched Song of / for a Princess... it's good... once in a while... but, come, on!*
just one of those nights...
having listened to the scoops
from the alternative...
worried your to hell
about not having *******
enough concerning
the previous day's load
which would make the pleasures
of **** *** look tame...
perched on a windowsill -
solving a sudoku -
and listening to
Frank Zappa's occam's razor...
and wishing:
making sure it was never
hot in the city
by Billy Idol,
or Kiss' crazy nights
to usher in the night,
and the watchman...
why?
it's not your standard
guitar solo...
it's a medley...
big difference...
guitar solos are bound to
a strict return to the rhythm
section...
they are caged beasts...
composed of a restricted
time constrain in a song...
but a guitar medley?
**** me...
it's what obliterates
a need for vocals...
the guitar medley is
the vocals substitute...
and that aspect of music?
mm... gummy bears...
jelly in the knees...
which is why i like
the fact that jazz is the antithesis
of classical music symphony...
sure... i get the Schubert / Schumann
piano duets...
nice...
but jazz?
the breakdown of the quintet?
**** let me count...
piano, drums...
bass... horn... sax...
yep, a quintet...
that moment in a jazz
song? where each instrument
player gets his solo?
genius!
the same with a guitar medley...
neither solo,
nor the rhythm section...
what a beautiful opening
to what i expect to be,
a beautiful night:
as the watchman once said.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 6:34 PM UTC
And they cast the man as the one
who gets brought down by dogs.
When he met the director,
the man said, "I'm the son of a veterinarian."
"I guess we should give you a speaking part."
So in the snow, behind the pines, with three
cameras on him, the man was brought down
by dogs, and instead of falling silently,
he was allowed to shout "no."
Despite the open air, his call was shrill.
Despite his vessel of flesh, his voice pinged
as if encased in metal.
The director, unnerved, instructed
the man to do the scene again.
"Try shouting 'why.' "
The man's cap was off.
Snow flew from the strands
of his hair. A dog chewed
on his forearm.
And he said, "Why."
Despite his vessel of flesh, his voice fell flat, muffled--
not by limb, not by nature, but as if covered by a blanket of wool,
like a child playing ghost in a winter living room.
The director took the man aside.
"What's wrong?"
The man had never seen a person die.
He'd never even seen a dog die, although
he'd seen plenty arranged in violence shortly
thereafter.
"Nothing," the man said.
"Die naturally this time."
"Alright."
On the third take, one of the dogs tore
into his cheek. The puncture was quick, clean.
"I want to die," the man said, "but not like this."
"Louder," the director said.
"I want to die but not like this."
"What was that?"
"I want to die but not like this."
The dogs lapped at his blood.
One of the camera men came in close.
The man went limp, hoping it would end
the take.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
my father was a
veterinarian
a lazy one at that
and when I was born
he simply stood by and
watched as my mother
circumcised me
with a carrot peeler
the trauma left its mark so to speak
mom and dad split up
when I was five
she ran off with the butcher's wife
he patented universal acid
a liquid that no container can hold
we don’t talk much these days
and the earth is slowly dissolving
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
Once
When i was a child
they asked me
"What do you want to do when you grow up?
What will make you happy?"
and i said that i wanted to be an ambulance
i didn't know the difference between that and a paramedic.
So they laughed at me.
The question came again when i was 16
"What do you want to do when you grow up?
What will make you happy?"
It took me a while to answer this.
My heart said "veterinarian"
but my head said "they'll laugh again"
so i remained silent
18 years old
"What do you want to be when you grow up?
What will make you happy?"
Well, i have no ******* idea what i want to be
but moving out of the house will definitely make me happy
so young and full of potential
i just needed space to let it grow
21
college
"What are you studying for?
Will that job make you happy?"
i want to do so much
but i had no idea what i was good at
probably nothing
22
Jessica
Forget the "job" or the "studying" studying question
let's get right down what's important
"What will make YOU happy?"
well that one is simple
It's her.
It can only be her.
Nobody else can make me feel as elated as when she's around.
She is the moon in the dark sky of my life lighting the way.
She is the magma in my core driving me to motion.
She is my best half.
She is my sunshine.
and now at 24,
She is my wife.
"What makes you happy?"
everything that is in my life makes me happy
starting with her.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a veterinarian in Australia.
It wasn't long until I realized I was horrible at science.
Then, I wanted to be a ballerina and twirl around just like the girl in my music box.
I then discovered that gravity had too much of a pull on me. The only twirling I did was face first towards the ground.
So what would my new dream be?
A carpenter?
A garbage person?
...a baker?
An actor? Yes. An actor.
...
Someone once told me, "if you have a fall back plan, you'll always fall back on it."
But I'm starting to believe what they said is true.
...
Your dreams are what you use to tuck yourself in at night after you've spent your entire day living in "the real world" surrounded by people who have lost the ability to dream.
...
But it's hard to know which dreams are yours when everyone is telling you what you should be.
...
Someone whispering, "you'll be unhappy. You only think this is what you want. Be a doctor. Or be a lawyer."
What if you fail?
What if you fail?
What if you fail?
What if you fail?
What if you fail?
What if I don't?
...
I started caring more about how many figures I would make a year and less about how many sounds I could put in my times step.
More about what would make me more marketable to be hired and less about How much of my vocal range I could showcase in 16 bars.
These are the dreams I have lost.
These are the dreams I have traded.
I have traded my dandelion wishes and my butterfly kisses for nothing more than a nine to five job.
And I have traded my wish upon a star and my Neverland for a house in the suburbs where everyone shares the same dream.
I became so consumed with fitting myself into this box that I forgot how big the box could be.
It doesn't matter WHAT you're supposed to be. It matters who you were MEANT to be.
...
When I was this high...
I no longer had a star in my night sky to wish upon.
I no longer had a million dandelion wishes.
Only a million weeds.
....
Someone once told me, "if you have a fall back plan..."
I won't trade my fairytales, childhood wishes, butterfly kisses, and dreams for everything else.
I will trade everything else for the chance to dream.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:49 AM UTC
Once a month in the ghost restaurant
we bring wine,
we light candles.
Alan (veterinarian) recites a rowdy lyric
about the cloacae
of waterfowl.
Dennis (percussionist, oldies band)
recites from his bar stool about a pretty lass
courted by men at a dance, it’s his daughter,
she saves the last dance for him.
Lynette (social worker) tells how her big brother
tricked her into looking down
the nozzle of a hose.
Bob (physical therapist) sings about fishing
in Canada, then selling all the fish
to Japan.
Joyce (office manager) reads a poem she wrote
about music,
so I (contractor, retired) tell about singing
la la la
to my grandson
who needs constant holding.
We all agree holding is a good thing
but hugging among men is an acquired skill
not taught in Ohio.
Terry (maintenance man) reads a poem
about the secret meanings
of words.
Denise (nobody knows what she does) tells a story
about hitchhiking in France
where trapped in a truck
in the remote alps
with a man’s hand on her thigh
she thwarts the tough guy
by singing songs from The Sound of Music.
Bob washes the wine glasses;
Terry returns the key to its hiding place.
We hug, some of us anyway.
Our little town, once a month.
Literature, home-grown.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
Squeals cry out as the ax smashes her guts
Dog barks loudly in multiple fears.
The man shouts, "Shut up you little mut!"
Her last breaths are heard as her eyes form crystal tears
A week later passes, the man notices his dog no longer runs
A month passes, his dog skips meals
"Papa, we must take Enzo to the vet!"cries ones of his sons
"It is obvious your dog is mourning from a loss and is suffering from PTSD" the veterinarian reveals
The worried man looks away in guilt
He quivers to continue the dialogue
Tears shed down his face as he remembers gripping the tilt
"They were best friends. Oceana and the dog. At times she surprised me for a pig how she could outsmart a dog."
A year later...
"Come along Enzo and Denver, supper's ready!"
The new piglet of the family snorts happily as the dog and his new best friend munch on their meal
"You did the right thing Papa." as his son yawns grasping his teddy
The former farmer kisses his son goodnight as he goes back to work
on his new zeal
A sign written, "Animals have a heart and soul just like humans. End all animal abuse for their kingdom is just as precious as ours."
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
To the little boy in the diner,
I’m sure you didn’t notice me, I barely took note of you
but your clear, childish voice traveled
it reached my booth and seized my ears.
You were gabbing on to your parents
(who were more mindful to your stains than your words)
about all the things you want to be when you grow up.
A teacher, a veterinarian, a doctor, a policeman.
Your naive string made me smile, until the commentation flew.
“You don’t want to do that,” the parents promised.
“You’ll change your mind and give up.”
And you were quiet, but I’m sure you shrugged it off
because that’s what children do.
I am still a child, not too much older than you,
but I can’t shrug off people’s doubts of my dreams like you.
Somewhere along my journey towards adulthood
I began to accept that my dreams are unreachable.
Our whole, young lives we’re told to reach for the stars
but gradually we will be told to lower those stars
until they’re within arm’s reach.
Parents like yours and mine will say our goals should be practical
and with our current lifelong dreams we won’t amount to much.
Uncreative adults like this will instill the dull principle in some,
but I hope not you, and I hope not me.
Everyone has to be someone doing something
so why not try for the stars a million miles away?
I want to look up one day and see
those far off stars are dangling just above my head.
And as for you, little boy in the diner,
I hope you do what you want.
Speak words people will hear across nations,
or whisper melodies for only those you treasure to receive.
Perform actions that millions of people will be touched by,
or be one person’s superhero to lift them off the ground.
I hope you go back to that diner someday,
accompanied by your aging parents.
I hope you tell them that you’re successful
I hope you tell them that you're happy.
Sincerely,
the girl in the diner
P.S. I hope you prove them all wrong.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
If you are preparing to purchase a boat, you'll earliest needto evaluate whatever you strategy to complete with it. If yourprimary objective is fishing, then you'll desire to seem into boats which are developed largely forfishing.If you come about to become a tournament fisherman, or hopeto be, then you definitely possibly wouldn't be content having a boat much less than a 150 HP engine and shorter than 19feet in length. those people of you who strategy to fish in definitely deep drinking water over a frequent foundation will probablyneed a 200 HP engine and at the very least twenty ft of length.If you don't strategy to tournament fish, but go afterbass fish instead, you'll want a 17 - 18 foot boatwith at the very least a 115 HP motor. This way, you can appreciate the lake or even the river.
* inform your kid some details about bootss. This way could make your kid recognize what some fundamental details about bootss are; this would allow their treatment for their pets grow to be well. * Do not stimulate your kid to possess tough perform using the bootss. This can be entailing risk. Cats might discover this hostile; it might use its paws along with other components with the entire body that might harm your child. Introduce using boots toys for they are far better than actively playing roughly together with your boots.* allow your kid recognize what the significance of resting is and how he could support in providing this to his pet. * Remind your kid the significance of not letting the bootss remain within homes. To maintain their pets safe, it is definitely a should that the kid learns tips on how to guard the boots from any untoward incident.
It is not uncommon for puppy masters to record occasional aggressiveness with their bootss.If you have just witnessed your boots in an aggressive state, dread might be the earliest believed that enters into your mind. lots of boots masters have queries once they witness their bootss attack. lots of masters desire to know if a little something is incorrect with their boots or if it is definitely a danger to those people close to him or her. In all honesty, you will discover it depends. prior to determining if you ever have to get in touch with your bootss veterinarian, there are quite a few fundamental factors you will earliest desire to carry into consideration.First, it is fundamental to find out that bootss, even domestic bootss, might be deemed predators. The ancestors of your boots relied on hunting to survive.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
We have here a group, no... a FAMILY
of poets who are the most *beautiful,
compassionate people!*
I can say without reservation that this is the best site I've ever been on. And the site is only as good as the poets on it. You have really stepped up to the plate and gone to bat for me and my family. By your good thoughts and prayers Miracles have been accomplished in my life.
Update on our little dog Cocoa. She is completely healed. This is nothing less than a miracle. We were able to use a credit card so she could see a veterinarian. But I believe God also answered our prayers and had given her healing. He is such a gracious and loving God that he cares for not only ourselves but the things we love also. Including our pets. I give him all the praise and glory! But I want to thank you all also. There is nothing no more powerful than corporate prayer. So if I seem like I tell you my whole life and ask for prayers I am not trying to burden you. I want to see the Miracles that are happening as they take place. You are powerful. Your prayers and thoughts are powerful. And I love you all from the bottom of my heart. You're so wonderfully talented in every way. People of such diverse nationalities and beliefs but with a single goal. To bring Beauty, inspiration, and understanding to those far away and near. I feel like you're my family. Everytime I press the little heart and read your writings I say a prayer. And I know there are others out there who do the same. I urge those who also experience miracles to write about them. It gives me Faith and Hope the things do change for the better in this world. And if there is a healing or a turnaround in your life it could be answered prayer. I know without reservation that my prayers touch the Throne of God. I don't say this to brag. I want to encourage you to pray and fast. It works. It TRULY DOES.
**Hello Poetry ROCKS THE WORLD!!!**
LOVE
Catherine °°••☆¤●♡°°••☆¤••°°
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
I adopted Agnes six years ago today.
She'll be my dog until she passes away.
I named my Chihuahua after my late mother.
She's my dog and I won't trade her for any other.
Agnes got sick and a veterinarian examined her.
The vet discovered that she has a heart murmur.
Because of a tick, Agnes was temporarily paralyzed.
I didn't know a tick could do that, I was surprised.
She nearly died and it was hard for me to stand it.
Agnes is one of the greatest dogs on the planet.
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 9:29 AM UTC
i think of those lab rats
living their lives
blissfully in cages
hand-fed fruit-loops
and poison
they’re happy
says the veterinarian
scribbling notes on a clipboard
while the rats drink sugar
water and run on wheels
fate is not kind to lab rats
their years are already so short
a drop in the bucket compared
to the well of time humans draw
from greedily
death is a shadow for humanity;
it is the thought gnawing on the bars
of our mind, the ghost of an animal
running endlessly on a wheel
that we placate with toys and treats
we call it housing enrichment
because even lab rats have a home
because we choose to personify everything
even the things we ****
carbon monoxide, bloodletting, a severing of nerves
and when they breathe their last breath
we write in our journals that the animals were
sacrificed, not killed, not murdered
dying for a cause bigger than them
for science, for knowledge, for gods on sterile altars
Sep 8, 2019
Sep 8, 2019 at 1:31 PM UTC