"woofs" poems
I cuddled upon it since birth,
It was the friend that kept me
Calm,
Peaceful,
Friend
Of my sleepy times, always there,
But I awoke and Blanky wasn't there
"MUMMY"
"DADDY"
As both ran in,
"What is it our little one"
Tears streaming, words jumbled in emotions
Mummy stroked my hair
Daddy Sshhh....
Sshhh...
Sshhh...
Sshhh...
And all was calm in the world,
B, B, "Blanky"
Has gone away,
Mummy soft spoken voice speaks
"Lets check your bed"
No not there?
***** trained detective looks around"**
Sniffs the air,
Sorry mummy that was me,
Mmm... to the playroom
High, Low
Here, there
Places searched but no where found,
His thoughts of blanky and sweet sleep,
As he searches each room, doggy sniffs
Come on Hairy,
He checks his bed nothing but hair,
His baby mind thinks back to the other day
Blanky and me,
Me and Blanky,
To the garden Woof, little fingers can not reach
Woofs hind legs stretch up,
"Good boy Woof"
As the door opens to
The great outside,
Near the sandpit
"No"
Near the grass
"Neither"
Then he spots it
Then its seen,
"Blanky I have missed you"
Hanging just out of reach,
"Detective work is never as easy as it seems"
A baby has skills, as he takes his *****
Sticky patches take hold and on top
Of a head, smelling fresh,
Not that just thumb ****** sleepy smell
But we can change that,
Blanky wrapped around
***** dragging behind, a new one needed I think,
"Mummy"
"Daddy"
"Its solved"
The missing blanky case is solved
It was washed, ***** it was once,
But so soft and cuddly once more,
It needs that just slept smell,
A detective is off to get snuggles sleep
Till the next case awaits, till I awaken
Its sheep time for me, goodnight or day everyone sweet dreams.
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
Mc Kit, im a cat i compose my songs
a dog's gonna to bark, a dog is a dog
i go to an extent come see how long
dog sits on a chain, cats are free to walk
no reason to chase me, im high up in a tree
barking won't help, you wake a Lion in me
if it happens that you, slip off your leash
you take that chance, run away if you wish
if they catch you again and tie to a chain
they do it that way, so you can't run away
you can guard their money be my guest
real treasure though is what's in my chest
doesn't take any heart to diss a cat, fella
i fight for my freedom do this a capella
we live in a junge it's true what they say
it's a struggle for me every night and day
dog chase a cat it's hungy for food
bad dog doesn't see i am more like a wolf
figure out for yourself if you're evil or good
i gave you a recepie hope its understood
what else do you need how much more proof
i am a Whale in a sea, a cat on your roof
hold on to knowledge while my sub woofs
still all i hear in the background is woof...woof
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 8:35 PM UTC
The addictive aroma of
Well-aged nostalgia, and a
Hurricane-yellow sunset, was
Striking from the Western Side.
The east, full of forest. It
Often goes Unappreciated.
Sat alone, and gritting his teeth
Over it, his forehead wet,
Losing patience, sweating
Droplets, wiped up by the
Dollars you couldn't afford to spend.
Outwardly expressing: "Overwhelmed."
Born of the burning woods, and
Left to ash, again, with the leaves, the
Scent settled, clearly set on
Sticking around.
In the mood to bleed, and
Drag some metal, through the
Dirt caked on your legs?
Filth burns brighter indoors, and my
Power's just gone out.
But you cast quite a shadow, when
Lightning interrupts the black.
"Storm'd been on it's way for a while.
I'm relieved, it finally hit us.
Fair weather felt dishonest. "
Long hair's got a few more days left in it,
Bags under his eyes, not quite full,
Intent on the ideal, and
Going out on his shield.
Decrying the Curse of the Under-employed.
Barking beckons him back, and
Beneath his broken heart, beating,
Beyond a reasonable doubt,
Buggering on. Exhaustingly enthusiastic.
The howled woofs, and selected drum lines.
Droning, diligent,
"And pleased to meet you, darling."
He flips open one of his
Boxes, counts to seventeen, and sighs.
Puts a cigarette between his lips.
Lights it. Counts to sixteen, and sighs.
Closes that box, and buys another.
"One third of what he says is nonsense, but
When you talk, he listens." And
Love's a vice, he can't help but
Nourish. Hiding in fog, and
Drowning in his cheap whiskey.
Perfectly cornered, writing a poem about it.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
So down, I'm drinking coffee grounds
to stay up. Pieces of bark in my
cup like a tired dog running on half-
woofs. Half & Half fizzles, sizzles
West Coast Folgers corporate doorstep.
Step lightly / hardwood floorboards.
Each creak, each door hinge "hello" couldn't
make me go. Fetch me the paper, some
poetry, a pen and a pad to write on.
To feel right on.
Lines so loose that delicates / zip-ups /
camisoles lie on the hillside
trying to poke the clouds, pop 'em,
with their tags. 100% cottonpoly-
estersilkrayon blend. Pure blend,
breakfast blend. The mug I stole
from the caf 'cause they steal from
me. Thousands of dollars every semester
for Cheerios everyday. Cholesterol doesn't
matter to me. Not because I don't care,
but because I've lowered the good kind, too.
So low, so low, the parking garage elevator
girls can't pick me up. So low on morale,
my textbook battalion would rather shut
me out.
So low that I'd let them.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
I looked upon my world and i saw the brightness of the day.
A day where all things were crazy busy.
The washing billowed in the breeze.
The cats were milling.
The hallway needed hoovering ... again.
The children laughed with each other...
i know.. unheard of right !! :o)
And although the recycling still needs putting out
and the grass needs mowing .. still..
Contentment was mine.
I had looked upon my world and counted
every single blessing there was to be had.
There were so many that i ran out of both fingers and toes.
And i now know in my heart that i am happy.
I feel it.
Truly happy.
Whether i am destined to be alone for a while longer
or to meet with the one who smiles with me everyday
on the bus...
*We could go out for coffee and feed the ducks maybe..
Haha you never know :o) it could happen..!*
But.. i feel the contentment of my worlds simplicity.
And so, in my madly busy world i realised...
that after all this time of looking for happiness,
it was right here all along.
I had found it hidden in the the reality of the drudge to work.
The reality of mount washmore.
The reality of my tired bones at the end of a busy day.
The reality of my life, that i am truly grateful for.
I love love love the friends that i have been blessed with..
especially the ones who live in my phone <3
I love the kindness i find in the smile of a stranger.
The giving of hearts through desperate times.
The words of wisdom and of poetry
that i am privileged to read.
Pictures of sunshine and of flowers
from the dearest heart. <3
The gift of undeserved kindness..
that i had never felt before. <3
I look for it and i feel the love.. i feel it.
And even when the dog woofs at the postman fifty times.
And he leaves the gate open fifty one.
Even with the constant level of organised chaos
and cat hair..
Even with four hungry mouths
that own eight hollow legs.
Even when there is no coffee...
Yes, even then..
Even then...
I know it is the real life that i live that makes my heart sing
and gives brightness to my day.
And i am so very grateful for it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwUGSYDKUxU
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 10:18 AM UTC
i missed you
when you died
you kept me
from feeling lonely
when i needed a friend
you were there
to lick my face
or wag your tail
your eyes tenderly
looking into mine
i miss you
or was this just
some bad nightmare?
a nightmare so alive
that i believed it was real?
no it wasn't
it was just cold reality
when death took you
away from me
leaving me alone
farewell to your
happy woofs
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Mark the passage of the Lorelei,
Darkness about her all along,
Fate-spun deeds till the day she dies,
And her ode committed to song.
Her train draped over the boat’s side,
A trail atop the river floating,
Her kindly suitors would not abide,
Overstepped, stooped low in their doting.
Her shifting garment in mesmer hue,
Warps and woofs with onlookers' fancy,
They all believed but none saw true,
Save one, chancing prophecy.
For the Lorelei is death bestride,
A loom to veil the space between,
Her trailing garments as a chord styled,
That only the dead, alive have seen.
In the coming she a dread light,
In the going a pale shade lingers,
She is present in both alike,
Her fruits like twilit fingers.
Should one be so bold,
To chance her on a stair,
Best they cling before they fold,
Into the tresses of her hair.
And drift away to lands unseen,
Adrift from terra fair,
Spirited to a waking dream,
Borne up to the Lorelei’s lair.
Worry not of what you're told,
Of what terror of night can bring,
You like swaddling babe will hold,
And into the darkness sing.
For the leaguer of her bower,
While treacherous and cold,
Is the boundary of the hours,
Of all that might unfold.
Apart and yet more aware,
You may espy the raging sea,
And losing yourself will stare,
At that action which may be.
The lady’s crossing span,
Reaches above and below,
Allowing those who can,
Traverse her tresses’ tow.
And clamour about the heavens,
And rend the wailing deeps,
Scour the land of dead-ends,
Break the bodied heaps.
From her seated hall,
She sees the mighty and the frail,
Aware is she of all,
The deeds that come to fail.
That in their ashes die,
That in their waxing wane,
Whose movers fall and lie,
In their shame profane.
Too many deeds to her eye,
Are snuffed in the crib,
Motionless she will cry,
Our Lady Lorelei,
And dream that you will rise.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 10:32 AM UTC
Car horns in the distance
roll in on my oscilating fans waves
Their volume
ebbs and flows with its tide
Every now and then
dogs barking a few streets over
wag their woofs
through the windy spinning weather
Muffles ocean
crashes in rhythm
on claritys shores
It is my heartbeat in this womb
The lullaby that eases me to sleep
It's my ************ fan ya'll
And i love him dearly
Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
Crush it like a powder and
use it in the paint.
Spread it on the streets,
in the sheets, in the chapel where
it will be the infrequent rain
of a leaky roof.
Or toss it up onto the roof
while you wait with open hands
for it to roll back down again.
Give it a name. After a saint.
After a Fate. After a bare
corner of my street.
Walk it down the street
like a dog that woofs
at every duck. Take care
that you feed it and
wash it and wait
as it ****** in the rain.
Wake up and do it all again.
Let it pull off all your sheets
in the night and finger-paint
your walls and goof
off at the table and
insult your great-aunt's hair,
But let no one else dare
scold it but you. Chain
it to a pole by the tire and,
as you cross each street,
glance back for proof
no one's chipped the paint.
Imagine it is the quaint
house with curved iron chairs
and the red red roof
from the catalogue in Spain.
Imagine it is your old street,
its cricket-chorus marching band,
Your mother's "it ain't so bad" refrain
sung like a prayer. Your old street
seen from the roof, the moon in your hand.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
The little fur ball,
The one who is always excited to see me.
Running, Barking, Playing.
My little brown eyes,
The one who snuggles up to me when I'm sad.
Cuddling, Snuggling, Petting.
My little woof woof,
The one who barks at literally everything, but still makes me laugh.
Jumping, Rolling, Woofing
My pride and joy,
The little ball of fluff that stole my heart five years ago,
with his little woofs,
his sweet little face.
Even though the little nut is so much to handle,
He will forever and always will be,
my baby
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 10:44 AM UTC
A dog woofs woofwoof,
and I ask: What do you mean? –
The dog woofs woofwoof.
May 13, 2021
May 13, 2021 at 4:09 AM UTC