The Springtime
The red eyes of rabbits
aren't sad. No one passes
the sad golden village in a barge
any more. The sunset
will leave it alone. If the
curtains hang askew
it is no one's fault.
Around and around and around
everywhere the same sound
of wheels going, and things
growing older, growing
silent. If the dogs
bark to each other
all night, and their eyes
flash red, that's
nobody's business. They have
a great space of dark to
bark across. The rabbits
will bare their teeth at
the spring moon.
poem by Denise Levertov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My dogs
bark at the neighbors,
bark at the UPS man,
bark at cars
and kids on bicycles.
they bark at the television,
the radio
and the stereo.
they bark at
the vacuum cleaner,
the dust mop
and the broom.
they bark at
anyone
who enters the house
uninvited.
and
when they’re not barking,
they’re sitting there
waiting
for something
to bark at.
good dogs.
poem by John Yamrus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rabbit
Rabbits, rabbits everywhere
Bigger than a rat
Smaller than a hare
Jump, hop in the grass
Eating carrots
Hoping fast
Rabbits, rabbits fluffy fur
Hunting season
They hustle and stir
Pointy ears, bushy tails
Wet nose
Hind legs down the trail
Rabbits, rabbits into holes
Time for bed
Bless their souls
Now all tucked in and put to sleep
No noise in the hole
Not even a peep
poem by TaBresha Bozeman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Howlin At The Moon
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
I [c] know theres never been a man in the awful [c7] shape Im [f] in
I cant even [c] spell my name, my [d7] heads in such a [g7] spin
To-[c] day I tried to eat a steak with a big old [c7] table-[f] spoon
You got me chasin rabbits, [c] walkin on my hands
...and [g7] howlin at the [c] moon.
Well, (*sug), I took one look at you and it almost drove me mad
And then I even went and lost what little sense I had
Now I cant tell the day from night, Im crazy as a loon
You got me chasin rabbits, pullin out my hair and howlin at the moon.
Some friends of mine asked me to go out on a huntin spree
cause there aint a hound dog in this state that can hold a light to me
I eat three bones for dinner today, then tried to tree a coon
You got me chasin rabbits, scratchin fleas and howlin at the moon.
I rode my horse to town to day and a gas pump we did pass
I pulled im up and I hollered whoa!, said fill im up with gas
The man picked up a monkey wrench and wham!, he changed my tune
You got me chasin rabbits, spittin out teeth and howlin at the moon.
I never thought in this old world a fool could fall so hard
But honey baby, when I fell the whole world must have jarred
I think Id quit my doggish ways if youd take me for your groom
You got me chasin rabbits, pickin out rings and howlin at the moon
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Puppy And I
I met a Man as I went walking:
We got talking,
Man and I.
'Where are you going to, Man?' I said
(I said to the Man as he went by).
'Down to the village, to get some bread.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met a horse as I went walking;
We got talking,
Horse and I.
'Where are you going to, Horse, today?'
(I said to the Horse as he went by).
'Down to the village to get some hay.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met a Woman as I went walking;
We got talking,
Woman and I.
'Where are you going to, Woman, so early?'
(I said to the Woman as she went by).
'Down to the village to get some barley.
Will you come with me?' 'No, not I.'
I met some Rabbits as I went walking;
We got talking,
Rabbits and I.
'Where are you going in your brown fur coats?'
(I said to the Rabbits as they went by).
'Down to the village to get some oats.
Will you come with us?' 'No, not I.'
I met a Puppy as I went walking;
We got talking,
Puppy and I.
'Where are you going this nice fine day?'
(I said to the Puppy as he went by).
'Up to the hills to roll and play.'
'I'll come with you, Puppy,' said I.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Bark Hut
Oh, my name is Bob the Swagman, before you all I stand,
And I've had many ups and downs while travelling through the land.
I once was well-to-do, my boys, but now I am stumped up,
And I'm forced to go on rations in an old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
I'm forced to go on rations in an old bark hut.
Ten pounds of flour, ten pounds of beef, some sugar and some tea,
That's all they give to a hungry man, until the Seventh Day.
If you don't be moighty sparing, you'll go with a hungry gut
For that's one of the great misfortunes in an old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
For that's one of the great misfortunes in an old bark hut.
The bucket you boil your beef in has to carry water, too,
And they'll say you're getting mighty flash if you should ask for two.
I've a billy, and a pint pot, and a broken-handled cup,
And they all adorn the table in the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
And they all adorn the table in the old bark hut.
Faith, the table is not made of wood, as many you have seen
For if I had one half so good, I'd think myself serene
'Tis only an old sheet of bark—God knows when it was cut
It was blown from off the rafters of the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
It was blown from off the rafters of the old bark hut.
And of furniture, there's no such thing, 'twas never in the place,
Except the stool I sit upon—and that's an old gin case.
It does us for a safe as well, but you must keep it shut,
Or the flies would make it canter round the old hark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
Or the flies would make it canter round the old bark hut.
If you should leave it open, and the flies should find your meat,
They'll scarcely leave a single piece that's fit for man to eat.
But you mustn't curse, nor grumble—what won't fatten will fill up
For what's out of sight is out of mind in an old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
For what's out of sight is out of mind in an old bark hut.
In the summer time, when the weather's warm, this hut is nice and cool,
And you'll find the gentle breezes blowing in through every hole.
You can leave the old door open, or you can leave it shut,
There's no fear of suffocation in the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
There's no fear of suffocation in the old bark hut.
In the winter time—preserve us all—to live in there's a treat
Especially when it's raining hard, and blowing wind and sleet.
The rain comes down the chimney, and your meat is black with soot
That's a substitute for pepper in an old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
That's a substitute for pepper in an old bark hut.
I've seen the rain come in this hut just like a perfect flood,
Especially through that great big hole where once the table stood.
There's not a blessed spot, me boys, where you could lay your nut,
But the rain is sure to find you in the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
But the rain is sure to find you in the old bark hut.
So beside the fire I make me bed, and there I lay me down,
And think myself as happy as the king that wears a crown.
But as you'd be dozing off to sleep a flea will wake you up,
Which makes you curse the vermin in the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hu
Which makes you curse the vermin in the old bark hut.
Faith, such flocks of fleas you never saw, they are so plump and fat,
And if you make a grab at one, he'll spit just like a cat.
Last night they got my pack of cards, and were fighting for the cut
I thought the devil had me in the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
I thought the devil had me in the old bark hut.
So now, my friends, I've sung my song, and that as well as I could,
And I hope the ladies present won't think my language rude,
And all ye younger people, in the days when you grow up,
Remember Bob the Swagman, and the old bark hut.
In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
Remember Bob the Swagman, and the old bark hut.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outta Space
Every day it's all the same no matter how I turn or twist my brain
I toss my body and scratch my f*ckin' mind
I bend and duck but I bounce 'gainst things all time
I'm left in this box I'm firmly and all stuck
I'm neatly tied and shelved I'm choked contained withheld
Outta space I'm growing outta space
I think I'm goin' crazy
Outta space I'm growing outta space
It's driving me crazy
Outta space I'm growing outta space
I think I'm goin' crazy
Outta space I'm growing outta space
I think I'm goin' out of my mind
I open my eyes wide to see some light
I take a breath and feel my box too tight
No matter how I press and push all day
That f*ckin' lid of mine won't give away
I'm left in this box...
Outta space...
song performed by by Quorthon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dog Named Cat
Spring of life, so much like the flowers in the garden, or the leaves on The mighty oak tres, all blooming, all turning green, as days go by,
My dog and I, we used to run free together, through the fields of corn, Down the country lanes, so happy we were, me and my dog named Cat;
When rabbits crossed our path, we chased them until our lungs were about to Burst, then we'd lie there upon the ground breathing in the fresh country Air, and nowhere on earth, was there a happier place;
Summer, the body of life, when all is happening so fast it makes your head Spin, hot days, warm nights, when the sun and stars seem so very close, When maturity sets in on a child's dream on a puppy's playful days;
With work to be done now, we're still together, me and my dog Cat, side by Side we walk through the fields, our eyes still glance for a trace of that Same rabbit;
When day is done, even though we're tired, we hurry back to take up the Chase, and maybe someday soon, we'll catch old rabbit, but I know, in both Of our hearts we hope we never will;
Fall, the Autumn of life, when things slow down, when hair turns gray, and Eye sight fades, when the memories are thought of, more often;
Me and my dog Cat, still walk the fields together, our old friend the Rabbit, is still with us, Cat's bark is growing weaker, and his legs just Aren't the same;
I limp along with them, and seem to keep up somehow, but I'm sure old Cat Sometimes slows down, just for me to catch up, we watch more sunsets now From the porch, than we ever did before;
Winter, the cold and lonely time of life, when sometimes things end, oh, The snow is beautiful to see, as it falls to earth, but the old days are Gone now, gone;
Old Cat doesn't walk with me anymore, when he died my tears fell on his Grave, even old rabbit was there to say goodbye;
I'm sure old rabbit won't be with me in Spring, I suppose I'll sit by the Fire and dream of those good times, memories of me, and my dog named Cat.
poem by William W. Sloan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bark At The Moon
Screams break the silence
Waking from the dead of night
Vengence is boiling
He's returned to kill the light
Then when he's found who he's looking for
Listen in awe and you'll hear him
Bark at the moon
Ha ha ha ha ha...
Years spent in torment
Buried in a nameless grave
Now he has risen
Miracles would have to save
Those that the beast is looking for
Listen in awe and you'll hear him
Bark at the moon
Hey yeah
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne from Bark At The Moon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The buffalo is all gone, and an Indian can't catch enough jack rabbits to subsist himself and his family, and then, there aren't enough jack rabbits to catch. What are they to do?
quote by George Crook
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Is Going To The Dogs
Get off your sled and go to bed
Don't you ever tire?
Throw a bone, I'm finally home
Curled up by the fire
Snow is falling from the sky like ashes from an urn
Sweet dreams, my little one
Now it's my turn
Well, Christmas is going to the dogs
We'd rather have chew toys than Yule logs
And things aren't looking very good, it's true
So I'll just lay here and chew
Now, when I sleep I like to dream
Of rabbits in the snow
Jumping right into my jaws
From their rabbit hole
Take one home and set him down right next to you shoes
Wake up to a big surprise
My gift to you
And Christmas is going to the dogs
We'd rather have chew toys than Yule logs
And things aren't looking very good, it's true
So I'll just lay here and chew
And Christmas is going to the dogs
We're scarfing down the turkey and egg nog
And things aren't looking very good, it's true
So I'll just lay here and chew
So I'll just stay here and chew...
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only a Flicker
Singly stripped from off the bark
of life our days may not return,
only a flicker in the dark
swift sparkles, - matchless pages turn.
Branches leaved now bare and stark,
scarecrow stand as seasons burn
concentric rings which leave their mark
beneath the bark mid forest fern.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I keep no dogs.
He keeps dogs and feed them.
As he wants them to wag.
He loves them for his sway
On them to make them bark.
I keep no dogs to feed.
I don’t need them to wag.
I don’t need them to bark either.
Must I be worse than one keeping dogs?
12.10.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By My Window At The Second Floor Of My Office
the strong wind
last night
brought it by
the window
of this second floor
office
rotten branch
with a lichen still
growing
a patch of green
on brown bark
a bottle of mineral
water is empty
and it is beside it
the glass window
shows it
and so i notice it
not my fault
why i am saying
about their
existence
again these things
are not
significant
except perhaps
the strong wind
last night
it gave us fear
amidst the darkness
when all the
lights turned
off
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Surroundings-7
Nuisance Neighbour
Four dogs bark all day
Grunts frequent thirsty borewell
Helpless tiffs pursued
Mom, dad, sons two quarrel loud
Four dogs theirs bark all day long
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Dogs In The Midwinter
You ever had a day like I had today,
When things are stacked up bad?
You look around and every face you see
Seems guaranteed to send you mad.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
I see them running with their tails hanging low
Like dogs in the midwinter.
The prophets and the wise men and the hard politicos
Are all dogs in the midwinter.
Let the breath from the mountain still the pain,
Clear water from the fountain run sweeter than the rain.
Dogs in the midwinter.
The boss man and the tax man and the moneylenders growl...
Like dogs in the midwinter.
The weaker of the herd can feel their eyes and hear them howl
Like dogs in the midwinter.
Though the fox and the rabbit are at peace,
Cold doggies in the manger turn last suppers into feasts.
Dogs in the midwinter.
You ever had a day like I had today ---
Dogs in the midwinter.
You look around and every face you see ---
Dogs in the midwinter.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
Were all running on a tightrope, wearing slippers in the snow...
Were all dogs in the midwinter.
The ice is ever thinner. be careful how you go
Like dogs in the midwinter.
And its hard to find true equilibrium
When youre looking at each other down the muzzle of a gun.
Dogs in the midwinter.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fear Is What Quickens Me
1
Many animals that our fathers killed in America
Had quick eyes.
They stared about wildly,
When the moon went dark.
The new moon falls into the freight yards
Of cities in the south,
But the loss of the moon to the dark hands of Chicago
Does not matter to the deer
In this northern field.
2
What is that tall woman doing
There, in the trees?
I can hear rabbits and mourning dovees whispering together
In the dark grass, there
Under the trees.
3
I look about wildly.
poem by James Arlington Wright
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In The Harbour: Four By The Clock
Four by the clock! and yet not day;
But the great world rolls and wheels away,
With its cities on land, and its ships at sea,
Into the dawn that is to be!
Only the lamp in the anchored bark
Sends its glimmer across the dark,
And the heavy breathing of the sea
Is the only sound that comes to me.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Stringy-Bark Tree
There's the whitebox and pine on the ridges afar,
Where the iron-bark, blue-gum, and peppermint are;
There is many another, but dearest to me,
And the king of them all was the stringy-bark tree.
Then of stringy-bark slabs were the walls of the hut,
And from stringy-bark saplings the rafters were cut;
And the roof that long sheltered my brothers and me
Was of broad sheets of bark from the stringy-bark tree.
And when sawn-timber homes were built out in the West,
Then for walls and for ceilings its wood was the best;
And for shingles and palings to last while men be,
There was nothing on earth like the stringy-bark tree.
Far up the long gullies the timber-trucks went,
Over tracks that seemed hopeless, by bark hut and tent;
And the gaunt timber-finder, who rode at his ease,
Led them on to a gully of stringy-bark trees.
Now still from the ridges, by ways that are dark,
Come the shingles and palings they call stringy-bark;
Though you ride through long gullies a twelve months you’ll see
But the old whitened stumps of the stringy-bark tree.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Dogs Bark To The Moon
the dogs bark to the moon
and to the wrong trees
and the wrong trees
and the full moon
they all know have no
ears to listen to their
woes
but they know too that
the full moon and the bark trees
do not and cannot listen to their woes
'they are just our modes of expression', the dogs said and rested
for a while and then the are back
howlin and howling all over again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sail On, Sail On
Sail on, sail on, thou fearless bark --
Where'er blows the welcome wind,
It cannot lead to scenes more dark,
More sad than those we leave behind.
Each wave that passes seems to say,
"Though death beneath our smile may be,
Less cold we are, less false than they,
Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee."
Sail on, sail on -- through endless space --
Through calm -- through tempest -- stop no more:
The stormiest sea's a resting-place
To him who leaves such hearts on shore.
Or -- if some desert land we meet,
Where never yet false-hearted men
Profaned a world, that else were sweet --
Then rest thee, bark, but not till then.
poem by Thomas Moore
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