"wagged" poems
Who
threw the silver dollar up into the tree?
I didn’t said the little
lady who sews and grows every day paler-paler she sits sewing and grow-
ing and that’s the truth,
who threw
the ripe melon into the tree?you
got me said the smoke who
runs the elevator but I bet two bits come seven come eleven mm make
the world safe for democracy it never fails and that’s a fact;
who threw the
bunch of violets
into the tree?I dunno said the silver dog, with ripe
eyes and wagged his tail that’s the god’s own
and the moon kissed the little lady on her paler-paler face and said
never mind,you’ll find
But the moon creeped into the pink hand of the
smoke that shook the ivories
and she said said She Win and you won’t be
sorry And The Moon camelalong-along to the waggy silver dog
and the moon came
and the Moon said into his Ripe Eyes
and the moon
Smiled
,so
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"While I sit at the door
Sick to gaze within
Mine eye weepeth sore
For sorrow and sin:
As a tree my sin stands
To darken all lands;
Death is the fruit it bore.
"How have Eden bowers grown
Without Adam to bend them!
How have Eden flowers blown
Squandering their sweet breath
Without me to tend them!
The Tree of Life was ours,
Tree twelvefold-fruited,
Most lofty tree that flowers,
Most deeply rooted:
I chose the tree of death.
"Hadst thou but said me nay,
Adam, my brother,
I might have pined away;
I, but none other:
God might have let thee stay
Safe in our garden,
By putting me away
Beyond all pardon.
"I, Eve, sad mother
Of all who must live,
I, not another,
Plucked bitterest fruit to give
My friend, husband, lover;--
O wanton eyes, run over;
Who but I should grieve?--
Cain hath slain his brother:
Of all who must die mother,
Miserable Eve!"
Thus she sat weeping,
Thus Eve our mother,
Where one lay sleeping
Slain by his brother.
Greatest and least
Each piteous beast
To hear her voice
Forgot his joys
And set aside his feast.
The mouse paused in his walk
And dropped his wheaten stalk;
Grave cattle wagged their heads
In rumination;
The eagle gave a cry
From his cloud station;
Larks on thyme beds
Forbore to mount or sing;
Bees drooped upon the wing;
The raven perched on high
Forgot his ration;
The conies in their rock,
A feeble nation,
Quaked sympathetical;
The mocking-bird left off to mock;
Huge camels knelt as if
In deprecation;
The kind hart's tears were falling;
Chattered the wistful stork;
Dove-voices with a dying fall
Cooed desolation
Answering grief by grief.
Only the serpent in the dust
Wriggling and crawling,
Grinned an evil grin and ******
His tongue out with its fork.
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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
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
hey,girl
are you there??
do you hear me,.(......)
ooh,no dont send me to siberia
hhmm,.(man,give me a beat),
Called me mister nice guy,.whenever we met ,eeeh
called me big and shiny,within your friends eh-eh
but girl iam so sick (so sick) and tired of everything,
So here iam calling from my bed.
All I do is cant stop looking through your bedroom window,
Wishing to be your FNG (fucking new guy),and wanting to let you know
iam not wagged out,(out)
iam just nasty,.(sweet,excuse me),.iam nasty,.iam too nasty tonight.
And you know why.
so Gimme Gimme that piece of body!
Lets Knock Boots and get to the peak (peak).
girl,Gimme ,Gimme that piece of body!
I really want to Knock Boots and get to the peak.!
**** girl next door, I was defeated, you won the war.
hey,sex bomb, promise to do that seduction forever more.
**** girl next door, couldn't escape even if I wanted to.
hey,sex bomb, knowing my fate is to be with you.
iam not wagged out,(out)
iam just nasty,.(sweet,excuse me),.iam nasty,.iam too nasty tonight.
Nan-nananana-yeah, Nan-nananana i like it x2
when iam Finally facing you, my girl next door.
You are the wanted here in my bed.
wanted to feel this burning flame.
dont worry,iam gonna get you hot(hot).
we gonna be Knockin' Boots and get to the peak., having the time of your life.
And you know why,..
so Gimme Gimme that piece of body!
Lets Knock Boots and get to the peak (peak).
girl, Gimme,Gimme that piece of body!
I really want to Knock Boots and get to the peak.!
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC
a cat came in my house from the house next door
sat down by the fire then laid up on the floor
he looked very comfy and made himself at home
the little cat next door he just loved to roam
then he started purring as peaceful as can be
then he wagged his tail and jumped up on my knee.
he was such a lovely cat and lived a house away
now he comes to see me every single day
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
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He dealt in tissue paper reality
Layered upon layers of issues
Of Nothing at heart
As empty inside as the wind
That blew his papers apart
He wore his emptiness like a badge
Futility was his halo
A cold empty glow of nothingness
And as his tongue wagged
The sounds were unintelligible
And when he stopped his eyes
Beamed with approval .
While I wondered . . . pondered
Without disapproval
Simply dazed . . . amused
Wishing I wasn't there
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
In the thick evening fog
the man walks with his dog
-
The two friends roam leash-less
A bond of no, oppress, aggress, distress
-
They wandered, trailing close but still apart
Yet, never so exceedingly to miss the beat of the other’s heart
-
He breezed on by my petty stroll
looked to me and sang, “Hello”
-
The black dog saw a squirrel, darted towards the bend
I panicked for a moment, “He gonna lose that friend!”
-
Panicky, panicky, pondering, what is loyalty?
Faithful is a friend that never will leave me
-
Their love inspired how beautiful devotion can be
To stay, without being chained, freely.
-
Leading ahead or following quietly behind
I am His and He is mine, without stress of mind.
-
The dog waited and wagged with the squirrel
engaging about his friendly man and the feeling girl.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
I watched a man in Central Park
Read Hamlet to a dog
That did not even turn to bark
To make me move along
Instead he sat with ears transfixed
To hear his master’s voice
With no desire for fetching sticks
Or chasing cats and toys
Although he failed to understand
"To be or not to be"
He wagged his tail and watched the man
As though he set him free
Then suddenly a thought occurred,
The man is like the Christ
Reciting from His holy Word
The reason for my life
His will is in a language
That is vexing to my brain
But still I sit here hanging
Onto every Word the same
And though there may be times I pray
"To be or not to be"
With every Word in every way
He sets my spirit free
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 11:28 AM UTC
Here lies my dog, motionless in his kennel
unable to wag his tail as he always did.
Yesterday when I saw him, curling helpless on his mat
he still wagged his tail and from him arose
a faint tremolo of love
punctuated by gutturals of pain.
At some bleak hour of the night,
the last ember of life died down
and his supple body turned stiff and stark.
Now he lies straight and majestic in death
leaving a track record of love
far difficult to break,
- a love no vessel can hold
or equated with what we humans feel.
Speechless as I stand, memories churn within.
He came to us - too young to be weaned,
a glossy black puppy with tawny gleaming eyes.
His short, sturdy limbs, large drooping ears,
slender waist and elongated frame
well proclaimed his pedigree aloud
So full of mischief, he capered and hopped,
like a new born calf, always up on his heels.
Sniffing with moist nose, he dug and dug
as if unearthing a treasure trove
buried deep beneath the soil.
With alert vigil, he guarded our home,
barking at strangers and driving rodents away
He expected nothing in turn but love.
His loyalty as we deem was never servile.
Never was he on chains to be hauled like cattle.
He enjoyed sauntering through the courtyard
giving company as we took our evening rounds.
He gloated rubbing his body over our knee
and sat content as our stroking fingers ran all around
Licking our feet and arms,
what he conveyed in inarticulate words
could be deciphered thus -
‘I love you, love you true’
Like the bouncing ball, he often played with
our hearts made to bounce up in love
and our hands fold in benison
for a comrade who departs,
valiant in life and loyal to the core
hoping to meet him anon
on the far green meadows of bliss,
still wagging his tail, avowing a bond
too strong to be snapped or splintered.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
The spoken language of my indigenous tongue is unfamiliar with composing a complex signature of words. I am a justly man who only possess a singular thought at a time and my current thought comes unto me gravely. This note should be pretty easy to understand.
My evangelizing does not bound a union between a man and amen. Those fabricating words I once preached are as false as fish on grass. A paradox forms within myself. I am structured alike the absolute truth but I surely lie a fact. But I can no longer carry a deceit intention. Fool’s gold was at the end of the rainbow. And like a loyal dog, I followed with a wagged tail.
I believe hindsight is merely useless, now. I attest to seek truth as it appears but my eyes are blind with fury. I mistakenly remembered that vision is of faith rather than sight. I become a precise and selective balloter. I either speak its erroneousness existence upon them or become a subject of harsh matters.
The genesis Armageddon is occurring. Man falls to a higher sky because the mind of the body cannot outthink its own thought; therefore, it is the last transcendence. I kneel in solidarity amid the row of pews. Peace, be steel. For it will all cease, follow by a great calm.
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 1:32 AM UTC
one morning
Sunilettan came
with a puppy.
i was writing a grand thesis on the orphaned existence of discarded people.
when the tether was removed
i gave her a dry fish.
did not eat it.
gave a fulsome bone.
did not touch it.
gave the milk from the ad.
did not even regard it.
kissed her.
did not show any reaction.
because she came on a monday
i named her luna.
whenever i called her
she wagged her tail.
wagged her ears.
luna luna luna
i whispered thrice
in her ears.
like the golden peaks
of mookaambika,
he sharpened his ears.
me and he did not play
any game.
before we could,
she came under the wheels
of a vehicle.
without autopsy
without a second look at the body
i buried him
under the hibiscus tree
with many blooms
falling to the ground.
two of the flowers
went to a karnataka guy’s
father’s death rites.
some turned into hibiscus juice.
some were visited by butterflies.
frequently,
the earth where luna was buried
forgot her.
me too.
another noon,
a german dog named adi
was found playing a game
of placing fish bones
on luna’s tomb.
no dog will
cease to play
till the question hung in the air
“my little sister, you have forgotten me?”*
Kuzhur Wilson
Translated by Ra Sh
(( To S. Sithara who memorised Khasakkinte Ithihaasam (The Saga of Khasak) when she was still a kid)
Sep 4, 2016
Sep 4, 2016 at 11:06 PM UTC
Ms. Cho is so, so sorry
for the unintended worry
and the dreadful social uproar
she created
when she rated
her airline’s services as poor.
But any self-respecting South Korean
would understand the shame
when the macadamias came
not in a china dish
for this salty snack delish
was placed calmly on her tray
the cabin crew would say
resplendent in their jackets
“The nuts are served in packets
vacuum-sealed to keep them fresh.”
Hyun-ah proud and haughty
wagged her fingers, called them naughty
and summoned forth the Chief of all the crew
demanding that he tell her if he knew
if the in-flight rules were being followed
or was it in anarchy they wallowed.
He stumbled and he stuttered
swallowed, then muttered
he’d never thought this matter
was the least bit earth shattering.
“Nuts in a bag, are you insane?
You must be taken off this plane”
True to her word the flight turned round.
Until they landed not a sound
was heard within the cabin of that plane.
He was dropped back at JFK
and after some delay
they made their way again heading east.
But arriving eleven minutes late
Ms Cho had definitely sealed her fate
Notwithstanding Daddy’s power
as the airlines CEO
relations turned quite sour
his daughter forced to go
She lost each and every perk
that accompanied her work
her executive pay
all lost – such is the way.
So, finally in sum
Beware of a Cho tantrum
when you see that charming face
remember she’s a nut case
who in shrill and angry voice
made a devastating choice.
Never change an airline schedule
Never let your plane be late
Never waste expensive jet fuel
Or suffer Ms. Cho’s fate
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:53 AM UTC
Yesterday and today and again tomorrow
Regrets build up from day to day
To the last moment of my waning life
And all my yesterdays have guided me
Towards my longed for death, so **** you, brief candle.
Life's just a passing sideshow, poor interval
To fill in the time between TV shows and football -
So pass another beer - life's just a ragged tail
Wagged by an idiot, it's **** and *** and ***** -
And then there's **** all left.
Know you whichever tempestuous idiot declar'd
O wonder how many goodly creatures are there here
And how beautious whining mankind be?
O brave new ******* pointless world
That has such people in't or some such futility
Needeth yet her brains examining forsooth
And has ne'er seen Wolverhampton ill-lit by moonlight.
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
Because the pleasure-bird whistles after the hot wires,
Shall the blind horse sing sweeter?
Convenient bird and beast lie lodged to suffer
The supper and knives of a mood.
In the sniffed and poured snow on the tip of the tongue of the year
That clouts the spittle like bubbles with broken rooms,
An enamoured man alone by the twigs of his eyes, two fires,
Camped in the drug-white shower of nerves and food,
Savours the lick of the times through a deadly wood of hair
In a wind that plucked a goose,
Nor ever, as the wild tongue breaks its tombs,
Rounds to look at the red, wagged root.
Because there stands, one story out of the *** city,
That frozen wife whose juices drift like a fixed sea
Secretly in statuary,
Shall I, struck on the hot and rocking street,
Not spin to stare at an old year
Toppling and burning in the muddle of towers and galleries
Like the mauled pictures of boys?
The salt person and blasted place
I furnish with the meat of a fable.
If the dead starve, their stomachs turn to tumble
An upright man in the antipodes
Or spray-based and rock-chested sea:
Over the past table I repeat this present grace.
1.6k
I bore with thee long weary days and nights,
Through many pangs of heart, through many tears;
I bore with thee, thy hardness, coldness, slights,
For three and thirty years.
Who else had dared for thee what I have dared?
I plunged the depth most deep from bliss above;
I not My flesh, I not My spirit spared:
Give thou Me love for love.
For thee I thirsted in the daily drouth,
For thee I trembled in the nightly frost:
Much sweeter thou than honey to My mouth:
Why wilt thou still be lost?
I bore thee on My shoulders and rejoiced:
Men only marked upon My shoulders borne
The branding cross; and shouted hungry-voiced,
Or wagged their heads in scorn.
Thee did nails grave upon My hands, thy name
Did thorns for frontlets stamp between Mine eyes:
I, Holy One, put on thy guilt and shame;
I, God, Priest, Sacrifice.
A thief upon My right hand and My left;
Six hours alone, athirst, in misery:
At length in death one smote My heart and cleft
A hiding-place for thee.
Nailed to the racking cross, than bed of down
More dear, whereon to stretch Myself and sleep:
So did I win a kingdom,--share My crown;
A harvest,--come and reap.
1.4k
My lost love
Hated me.
She blinded my daze.
Knights in me would storm
Sunny shores of hers.
Hymns of my love were light
Dark were her fires.
Water colors of our love never bled
Clotted on a unfinished canvas.
Immaterial of me, she blossomed.
Weeds of our life brushed sad.
Happiness gone from our marriage
Divorce, soon, and found.
Lost, like two gold fish at war
Piecing the bubbles to the surface.
Bottom of the tank, I fell ahead
Tails of hers wagged happily.
Sadly I swam away
Towards more ... emptiness.
Logan Robertson
12/17/2018
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Listed bookmarks of old, and baited non-benifit of the doubters.
A kind rewinded word of advice heard, pattern of choices and actions made a bested resounding thunderous sound,
near then , how come the doubters tested and warned to the trap not come, where graced benefit of the doubt be a stated consideration on that very **** day?
To the impact indicators blinking a sudden turn of the coat or is it the tail wagged the dog in the fog of a psychological electronic war that must be raging in the minds of the internet cheerful happy people as not it has in the walk and mind of mine, for i laid bare so as to share the scare i knew to find , and thus almost lost it all , wit correction, but you cast a guilt-ed hazy trash to one more that willing to best you and test you for the proven faith and trust he already gave, oh wait, or was that simply entertainment for the view of you ? so, um, sit down, you could have listened to me and gave benefit of the doubt, or did you forget what all this is truly all about? saving those whom have and are being manipulated into utter turmoil and death by these blood sport games in these windows... remember there "friend"? or is it ol craig and his lists are totally as bad off as little ol me, for shurly you see, that even she is free to some degree and will as i have walked all through , forgiven, yet my dear friend, do you think such grace for me? considering,most forget why the hell we have been doing all this and i walked you all through such ******** things... oh, sorry, i am sure you were getting around to that human trafficking thing, right? well, at least there are good people doing that as we speak, and for them we are grateful, are you?
Oh and no i am not mad nor upset, just disappointed, i always tell you what is coming and to choose. and still i harm you not even if it harm me.
The Unforgiven I,II and III - Metallica - (LYRICS)
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-HiAEXQP38
Motörhead - Ace of Spades (slow Acoustic version)
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tc-PVTj9UCk
AC DC - Who Made Who lyrics
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuFq3ynnBo8
AC DC Ride On
h ttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ugwlIQ8K4Vs
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC
there was a silver lark high up in a tree
singing in the branches singing just for me
singing there so sweetly his little song of love
as lovely as can be way up high above
when he finished singing in the tree so high
he wagged his tail and flew up in to the sky
Jul 16, 2010
Jul 16, 2010 at 6:58 AM UTC
Skinny Kid sat
by the white metal table
on the lawn
Anne sat opposite him
her crutches
by her chair
I heard
you puked last night?
Anne said
I did
Skinny kid said
all over the blankets
and pillowcase
nice
said Anne
it was the liver
they made me eat
he said
I told them
it made me ill
but they said
it was good for me
and said
I had to eat it
serves them right
she said
Sister Bridget moaned at me
he said
O her
she's got a face
on her
like a sufferer
of haemorrhoids
what's haemorrhoids?
he asked
painful
bulging blood vessels
hanging from the ****
she said
he tried not
to picture it
or see it
in the nun's face
feel better now though
he said
good
she replied
my mum's visiting today
he said
good for you
she said
has your mum
visited you yet?
he asked
no I think she's
making the most
of me
not being around
Anne said
it's a kind of holiday
for her
me stuck here
after my fecking leg
was chopped off
he stared
at the area
of her skirt
where no leg appeared
she saw me in the hospital
and brought me grapes
and flowers and stuff
and a bag
of odd socks
he stared
at her one leg
hanging from out
of the skirt
does it hurt?
he asked
it does at times
and I go to rub it
and it isn't there
someone's stolen
me fecking leg
Anne bellowed
to the kids
playing on the swings
and slide
on the lawn
of the nursing home
they looked over
at her
then quickly
looked away
a nun nearby
shook her head
and wagged
a finger
Skinny Kid looked
at the vacant area
of skirt again
what's the matter Kid
want to see my stump?
and she hitched up
her skirt
to reveal the stump
of her leg
and a glimpse
of blue underwear
he blushed
and looked
at his hands in his lap
never mind Kid
she said
good manners
is a load of crap.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
I walked Auntie's dog Dancer
across by the parade grounds
while Auntie did the washing
in the copper
the dog kept near me
as we walked
looking back at me
to make sure I hadn't got behind
we saw Auntie's friend Milly
with her 5 year old daughter Elsie
Dancer stopped and wagged its tail
and licked Milly's hand
and Elsie glared at me
hello Benny
Milly said
hello
I said
say hello to Benny Elsie
Milly said
Elsie stared at her mother
then at me
hello to Benny Elsie
she said stiffly
no you bad girl
say it properly
or I'll slap your backside
Milly said
hello Benny
Elsie said grumpily
hello Elsie
I said politely
as Auntie said I should
what's your auntie doing?
Milly said
she's doing the washing
I said
o I see
well do you want
to come to our place
and have a glass of milk
and a biscuit?
she said
Dancer too?
I said
yes Dancer too
she said
Elsie pulled a face
and we walked back
to Milly's place
the other side
of the parade ground
and we went up
some black metal stairs
and into her flat
Milly went off
to the kitchen
with Dancer following
to get him
a bowl of water
and us some
milk and biscuits
how are you?
I said to Elsie
she stared at me
like I was a bad smell
then said
hope you
don't stay long
I want to play
with my dolls
and don't want you
playing with them
boys don't play with dolls
I looked at her
trying to see
if there was a little bit
of a smile
but there wasn't
just her small lips
shut tight
and her eyes
looking at me
just come for milk
and biscuits
I said
Elsie put her hands
behind her back
and walked off
and sat on
a battered looking sofa
Milly brought us
milk and biscuits
and said to me
sit on the sofa
next to Elsie
and I'll go get
my cup of tea
off she went
and I sat next to Elsie
and she moved
along a bit
from me
and sipped her milk
and clutched her biscuits
in case Dancer came
and ate them
(which he would)
Milly came back
and sat down
in an old chair opposite
near the fireplace
with her cup of tea
well aren't
you two a pair
just like brother
and sister
Milly said smiling
don't want him
as a brother
Elsie said glumly
that's not nice Elsie
what's got into you
Milly said
Dancer came in
and sat opposite me
and wagged his tail
and looked at me
for a biscuit
I broke off a bit
and gave him some
and he took it gently
and it was gone
in the blink of an eye
then looked at Elsie
his head to one side
gazing at her
she broke off a bit
and gave it to me
to give to Dancer
and he took it gently
and then walked off
and sat down
by the fireplace
good dog
Elsie said
Milly talked
about her and Auntie
and about her husband
in Germany
and my uncle
in Korea
I sat a bit nearer
to Elsie as Milly talked
and Elsie looked at me
dark eyed and moody.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 2:37 AM UTC
TRIXIE...
When your an only child
and have a dog,
that dog becomes your best friend.
My dogs name was Trixie
a little fox terrier
who was as gentle
as a best friend could be.
We would sit underneath
the dining room table
while mom sewed, and
I would dress Trixie up
in baby clothes
and push her around
in my doll buggy.
As a best friend
Trixie just layed there
like she knew she should.
Why should she,
because I talked her into it.
Dogs understand things
more than we realize.
But....
One Christmas Eve
Trixie ate a whole bowl of
chocolate German *** Candy.
Imported from Germany
And....
She lived to wag her tail for us.
that candy had real *** in it.
She wagged her tail, and staggered
as she walked.
Trixie never chewed up things,
or bothered anything,
but...
it was Christmas Eve
and I think that the devil
told her to do it....
My best friend Trixie
lived for many, many years
and they say chocolate can
**** a dog, and certainly
*** didn't seem like it
was made for a dog.
But...
Having Trixie as my best friend
made my childhood days
really fun.
By judy
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
When Susan’s work was done, she would sit
With one fat guttering candle lit,
And window opened wide to win
The sweet night air to enter in.
There, with a thumb to keep her place
She would read with stern and wrinkled face,
Her mild eyes gliding very slow
Across the letters to and fro,
While wagged the guttering candle flame
In the wind that through the window came
And sometimes in the sentence she
Would mumble a sentence audibly
Or shake her head as if to say,
“ You silly souls, to act this way!”
And never a sound from night I would hear,
Unless some far-off **** crowed clear;
Or her old shuffling should turn
Another page’and rapt and stern,
Though her great glasses bent on me,
She would glance into reality
And shake her round old silvery head,
With-“You!—I thought you were in bed!”
Only to tilt her book again
And rooted in Romance to remain
ባልቴቷ ሱሳን
ሱሳን ሥራዋን ሰራርታ
ትቀመጣለች ወፈር ያለ
ሻማ አብርታ፣
መስኮቷን አርጋ
በሰፊው ከፈት
ባለግሩም መአዛውን
የማታ አየር
በደንብ ለመሸመት!
ገፁ እንዳይጠፋባት
አልባ በአውራ ጣት፣
ሻማዋን ንፋሱ እያንገላታት
ተመስጦ በሚስተዋልበት
ቅጭም ያለ ፊት
እየተደመመች ታነባለች
ዓይኗን ከዚህ ወደዚያ
ወደዚህ ከዚያ
በፊዴሎቹ ላይ
እያደረገች ሸርተት፡፡
በዛ ኮሽታ አልባ ፀጥታ
ይሰማል በለሆሳስ ስትናገር
የሆነ ነገር
ወይ ጭንቅላቷን ነቅንቃ ስታበቃ
ስትል ‹‹ምን አይነት ናችሁ
እንዴት ንደዚህ ታደርጋላቸሁ?››
ከሩቅ አውራ ዶሮ ኩኩሉ
ረጭ ብሏል ሥፍራው ሁሉ--
አይሰማም ምንም ድምፅ
ካልሆነ መፅሐፍ ሲገለፅ፡፡
በትልቁ መነፅሯ ልታይ ዙራ፣
ሥፍራውን ማትራ፣
ሽበት ቀመስ ጭንቅላቷን
እየነቀነቀች ወደኔ ያየች
‹‹አንተ ገና አልተኛህም?››
ትለኛለች
ዳግም ወደመፅሓፏ ተመልሳ፣
በተመስጦ የፍቅር ታሪከ ውስጥ
ራሷን ልትረሳ!
(በዋልተር ዲላሜር)//
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:35 AM UTC
May my ignorance blind me.
For I'm a product of the 90's,
Instead of being like Jesus,
we all wanted to be like Mike.
Is that facetious?
Or sound just about right?
Right...? No Left,
Child Act Behind...
they say my dyslexia forever disrupts mind...
my...mind...
He yells louder,
*"Why am I wasting my time
with you Brock?
You don't want to learn,
God ******
Quit staring at the clock!
Now go on read the sentence
and annunciate on that last word,
don't overestimate the time,
It is not going to move any faster..."*
There I sat boiling, as he wagged his finger in my face as he stood behind,
tempting me to call upon my intrepid Power Ranger besieged mind.
I would cut his head off with a swoosh of my sword,
sparks go flying and down goes Zedd-Lord.
*"God ****** Brock it's Lord-Zedd!"* , I shouted in my own head.
So, in my imagination;
I still cannot properly read.
Where will this get me?
No where fast...
I work continually, properly, systematically, honestly, legitimately, every way I can to learn every word I want to know.
That's where I want to Go.
Like I said, I'm a product of the 90's.
A whole generation discovered off the product of:
I find me.
Instead of having the powers given to us, we worked for them.
And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan.
And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan.
And that is the difference between Jesus and Jordan.
May my knowledge open eyes.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
That feeling of being watched crept over his back;
it sizzled like fresh moon dust on morning dew,
and a smell of guilt — burned vanilla and hair-honey —
tickled his flaring nostrils.
He sneezed, and licked the gob of mud-snot that covered his mouth.
Eyes still watery, he looked up from the hole in the ground:
Jenny Jones was standing on the front porch, lantern in hand;
he ducked between the flowers.
In order to stifle a yelp of laughter, he held his breath,
for a cliché question carry-whispered itself over Jenny’s lips;
of course there was no-one out there— Christ Almighty!
Did she really think he would answer?
Here he was, risking his life by dragging a dead body
over the neighbours’ lawn, digging a midnight hole in the flower bed
where the blue of the paraffin flame waltzed with the rose buds—
such a fantastic dance of death.
Jenny had one last, urgent glance over her shoulder;
she shut the door and caught her night gown in the slam!
He wagged his tail, scratched away at the swarm of fleas behind his ear,
and placed the pigeon in its grave.
Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 7:31 PM UTC