Related quotes: you know the dog that...

The Dog And The Man

you know
the dog that meets
you at the gate
of the house
wagging its tail
jumping to
embrace you
and follows you
towards the
kitchen
and sits just below
the table
when you dine
alone

it is a question
between the two of you
as the dog
pushes itself
to the level
of the beloved.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes

No-one

In my big old lonely house
I often hear things that aren't really there
For example the rustle of my paper
As no-one sits in my chair
And the squeak of old rusty floorboards
As no-one goes up the stairs

In my big old lonely house
I see things that don't exist
Like the wagging tail of a young Border Collie
As by the boiler no-one sits
Or a piece of fresh green mistletoe
Under which no-one kissed

In my big old lonely house
I smell things, but it's just lies
Maybe the rich heavy fumes of petrol
As up the road no-one drives
And the lovely sweet scent of perfume
As no-one sprays annoying flies

In my big old lonely house
I feel like I'm not really here
And now, here all on my own
I'm turning into no-one I fear
For I am old, and I am dying
And when I scream, no-one hears

poem by Amy Darnbrook
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My Best Friend

My alarm bark
Every morning
We're on the deck
Then back inside

My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more

My protector
I know that bark
A warning to all
Someting isn't right

My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more

My foot warmer
You sat by me
Content and happy
Just to be there

My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more

My listener
You heard me
Tell those stories
Time and again

My best friend
I love you more
Tail wagging
Unconditional love
You gave me more

poem by Paul H Nelson
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Noontime Poetry

now i am home
earlier having taken the shortest distance
between office
and this door leading to my house
with a rusty roof
squeaking steel gate
painted red
for luck
the concrete fence
surrounds
the garden
wild and wanton
not having time
to trim excessive
branches
looking out to the
road
(of indifference)
the road is dusty
and the dog meets
me with a wagging tail
and licking tongue
got to open this
old door
hard wood and
now i am entering
this cold house
where curtains
colored green
and some white
laces hang

i sit on this rocking
chair and rock myself
for a while
pleasing pleasing
myself
not thinking about
anything
until i remember you
and your coming
birthday

i open my computer
again
because i remember
some faces
that need my loving
my care
or simply my thoughts
and it is you
on the screen

outside the window
the sun scorches
scourges
everyone

noontime
i am at the height
of this chasm
i want to make
a hole
and make myself
fall in there
i want it
deep and endless

where i can
not just sleep
where i always wake up
where i will
just fall and fall and fall and fall forever...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Donna

when he
left you
and you
lose your
mind

when the house
get so
damn lonely

when you
finally decide
to come home

the same
white dog
waits for
you
by the door
wagging
its tail
for its
only master

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An Old Dog

an old dog
stays guarding the house
waiting for me
not wagging its tail
it is dead

it is this sense of waiting and
belonging
it is this that gives
the door mat
its meaning

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He sits at the kitchen table, which is the only authentic way to touch down at home in Queens.

quote by Francis X. Clines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Friendly Small Dog

Just a small brown and white jack russell with a stub for a tail
Yet when it comes to trust and loyalty his master he never fail
One who will never know of canine renown
Yet to his mentor he is the best dog in the town
With a ball or a stick he loves for to play
Just a friendly terrier friendly in every way
Yet his master with his life he'd defend
'Tis true what is said of a four legged friend
Respect for his master in love and devotion he does pay
At the gate to greet him home from work every day
With wagging stumpy tail and an excited bark
As if to say master take me to fetch ball in the park
Just a friendly small dog with a stump of a tail
But when it comes to devotion and loyalty he never does fail.

poem by Francis Duggan
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5: 31a.m.

i am again listening to the sound
of the cock crowing

the silence of the jalousie window
still closed from the morning light

the faint sound of the radio in
the kitched where the housemaid does
the cooking and the cleaning

the sound of the broom
cleaning the garage and the sliding
of the rags wiping the car

the little brown dog arrives
from a kitchen door that just opened
letting it in and here it comes
as i write this
licking my lap and wagging
its short tail

i am feeling like i am the master
of my world and i am not letting
it go like some sand slipping
through my fingers

i will take a bite of my own day
like the way i take the slice
of the sweet papaya
laid on a glass table
beside a toasted sandwich
a slice of bacon and a hot
black brewed coffee.
inside a chocolate porcelain cup.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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An event to recall on Mother's Day - That mother is no one other than me

Summer evening
Sun still harsh

Me, then fourteen
My mother's younger sister
Came forward to tell
A story about a mother

Mumbai, then Bombay
Highrise residential quarters
Fourth floor
Big Hall
Two big bed rooms
Two baths
Big kitchen

Grill-less windows
Free flow of air
Lot natural light

A mother in the kitchen
Preparing food
For her husband
And their three sons

The youngest about two years old
Left on the kitchen table
Mother being busy around

The child not seen now
Mother realised just then
Would have slipped
Across the open window

She was right
The child has fallen
But on the sun shade
About four feet below

Her two year old son
On an open sun shade
Not less than forty feet
Above the ground level

No time to lose
No time waiting for help
From outside

Mother too slowly
Slipped about four feet onto the
Just two feet wide sun shade
Picked up the child
Put him onto the kitchen work table
Managed to climb back to her kitchen

I was thrilled
I was to ask a number of questions
One important being
Is the mother is so courageous

My aunt finished telling
That mother is no one other than me
And that son is no one other than
My third son

Both that mother and son
Are safe, living and active

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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This poem (says)

This poem
is friendly:
see, it’s wagging its tail,
it will follow you anywhere,
run off and come back,
a perfect companion;

this poem
loves fun:
you want to play dressing up,
it’ll laugh and rush off to the attic,
the basement, the dressing-up basket;

this poem
is serious:
you want to be silent awhile,
rest your head on its shoulder,
it will wait for you in
sympathetic stillness;

this poem
is humble:
turn it over, write
a love poem on
the other side,
it will glow with your love;

this poem
is disposable:
write a few lines, be angry
with yourself, scrumple it up,
throw it on the pavement,
someone may pick it up,
someone may tutt and place it
carefully for recycling;

this poem
is an origami:
you can make any shape you like:
a paper boat on
the waves of destiny;

a ladder to reach to where
you always wanted that fruit;
a crown; a dunce’s hat; a witch’s conic;

this poem
is elastic:
a tablecloth for a picnic,
a sheet to cover two lovers,
a ground plan for a new world;

this poem
knows where
nothing meets something,
nowhere meets everywhere,
no time meets all time,
anyone meets everyone,

this poem
has a bright eye
whether you read it or not;

this poem
likes you though it
hasn’t met you;

this poem
is impervious to scorn;
it knows who it is,
and where things begin and end.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This poem