Too Far From Auntie's Gaze
Auntie said
don't go
too far away
with the mutt
I need to know
where you are
and so you
and the mutt
went down
the metal stairway
and off
into the barrack grounds
at Aldershot
keeping close
to the places
that your aunt
could see you from
and you could hear
soldiers marching
on the parade ground
and the sergeants
bellowing their orders
to the marching troops
and you sensed
the cold air
and frost
on the ground
as you walked
and the mutt sniffed
the earth
and you said
come on mutt
let's go for a run
and off you went
and the mutt followed
and overtook you
its tail wagging
its eyes large
and brown
like pools of chocolate
and lucid like mud
and you raced him
as far as you could
then you had to stop
for breath
and the mutt
stopped too
and looked back at you
its tongue hanging
from the corner
of its mouth
and you looked over
to where your aunt lived
and realised
she wouldn't
be able to see you
from where you were
and the dog didn't care
and the air
was chilling
your lungs
and your tongue hung
in the corner
of your little boy mouth
and the soldiers marched
and marched
and you stood watching
bent over
with your hands
on your knees
and big black birds
called out from the trees.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
Auntie and Mutt.
Auntie cut the rind
off the bacon
and offered it
to the dog
but before the dog
could put his lips to it
you made off with it
down the cast iron stairs
beside the barrack block
and the dog followed you
barking as it did so
and once you reached the ground
you went off
onto the grass
and the dog
chased you
and jumped up at you
trying to reach
the bacon rind
you held between fingers
and Auntie called over
the metal rail
let the mutt have it
don't tease him
and so you bit
the rind in half
and gave the mutt one half
and ate the other yourself
but sometimes after Auntie
put the bacon rind
in the dog's bowl
you picked it up
and tossed it
over the balcony rail
onto the ground below
and the dog raced down
the stairs after it
but now and then
you pretended
to toss it over
and after the dog
raced off
you would hold it
over the side of the rail
and called to the mutt
and said
I still got it mutt
and the dog raced back
up the stairs
and you sat there
on the metal landing
and the dog came
and licked and nuzzled you
and you gave the dog
the bacon rind
and he licked you
and wagged its tail
and Auntie called out
what are you up to?
what are you doing now?
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie and Hand Washing
You made your way from the john
to the dining table
and Auntie said
have you washed your hands?
yes
you said
are you sure?
Auntie asked
looking at you
with her fixed stare
and the black mutt
under the table
gazed at you too
I washed them this morning
you said
let me see your hands
Auntie said
and so you held out your hands
and she turned them over and up
and held them looking at them
you're meant to wash them
after going to the toilet each time
she said
not just
when you get up
in the morning
she released your hands
and you looked at them
as if they were suddenly there
before you for the first time
so you had best wash them
Auntie said
before I dish up your dinner
and so you went back
to the wash room
and turned on the tap
and taking soap
between your hands
you washed and rinsed
and dried them
on the white towel
on the rail and went back
to the dining room
and showed your aunt
that's better
she said
now go sit down
and wait for your dinner
and the black mutt
put its chin on your lap
waiting in anticipation
for titbits from your plate
and Auntie called out
from the kitchen
remember to say your prayer
before meals
and you said ok
and muttered
thank you for what I'm about to eat
may there be few vegetables
and lots of meat
and the mutt's dribble
wet your thigh
its jaw lingering there
giving you
its dark eyed stare.
poem by Terry Collett
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Just Beyond
And Auntie saying Don’t
Go too far so I can’t see you
And off you’d go off down
The iron stairs with the dog
In pursuit and the wind in the
Sails of your coat and the sky
Beckoning above and Auntie’s
Voice trailing away on the wind’s
Wings and you happy as the sun
In the morning sky making your
Feet rush across grass and the dog
Overtaking looking back tongue
Out of the side of its mouth and
You saying Go on you mutt run
Run and your young legs taking
You far from Auntie’s sight and
Yet looking back you know she’ll
Be there hands in the clothes
Wash scrubbing away her elbows
Wet from the plunge and you
Throwing hands to the sky and
Saying Lift me up wind take me
To the great place beyond the clouds
Of white and sky of blue with just
The mutt and five year old you.
poem by Terry Collett
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Unnecessary
Unnecessary,
Auntie said,
when you asked
about taking the mutt
for a walk;
he can take himself
for a walk,
in fact,
she continued
straining the cabbage,
the green water
pushing through
the stainless steel colander,
he runs,
he loves to run
all over the fields.
You knew he did,
you used to run with him,
and being that kind of mutt
he’d let you run beside him,
you being a small boy,
you being the one
who shared his bacon rinds,
you the one who filled
his water bowl
when Auntie forgot.
Sit down now,
Auntie said,
dinner is about
to be served,
and I hope
you have washed
your hands,
and she’d dish you
a large serving
of cabbage
with your meal
and she didn’t see
how that was so
unnecessary.
poem by Terry Collett
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Auntie's Mutt
Auntie’d cut off
the bacon rind
and throw it
for the dog
and you’d grab it
and run down
the stairs with it
and the dog’d
run down after you
and the bacon rind
yapping at your heels
and you’d hold
the bacon rind up
and the mutt’d jump up
at it and you’d move it
higher and higher
and the mutt’d jump
higher and higher
until at last
he’d grab the bacon rind
between his teeth
and pull it
from your fingers
and run off
with his prize
and you’d stand there
clapping your hands
ready for the next
thrown out
bacon rind
from Auntie’s hand
up on the balcony.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cinderella And The Dog
Cinderella and her dog
sat at home on the old log.
Sisters had gone to the dance
homely ones did have no chance.
Said the dog 'my Cinderella,
may I be this evening's fella,
we could wash and dress with care
and could make a handsome pair.'
She had raised her bushy brow,
asked the clever dog just how
they would get into the castle
while avoiding a big hassle.
'You are nothing but a mutt,
always scratching your big butt,
full of craziness and fleas
barely reach up to my knees.'
Dog had motives quite ulterior,
said 'I'm not at all inferior,
every dog, on the inside
hides a man beneath his hide.
All it needs is one French Kiss,
which in turn produces bliss,
makes me into your own prince
(turns away and quickly grins) ,
Bravely Cinderella acts,
knowing only half the facts.
Kisses him for one whole hour
to release that magic power.
But no miracle breaks free,
dog lifts leg now, just to pee,
doesn't seem the least surprised,
she has still not realised
that the dog has pulled her leg.
So she now begins to beg:
'I will kiss you one more time,
please come out, man in your prime.
Let me tell you that your breath
is far worse than Father Death.'
So, they kiss again and linger
as the Emperor's own singer
happens to be wand'ring by,
carrying a rhubarb pie.
'Sir', pleads pretty Cinderella,
you, the singer Pico Bella,
can you give us some advice? '
Pico says 'You have nice eyes,
but a mutt will stay a mutt,
into man a mutt cannot
metamorph through simple kissing,
since he has genetics missing.'
Well, she turned now to the critter,
hot, enraged and really bitter,
'How could YOU, a lowly dog
who sleeps in a hollow log
trick me into kissing French
with your halitosis stench? '
'Look', he answered, 'truly sorry,
first, I had to have a story,
all my life I've not been kissed,
but I am a journalist.
Hired by the King's own wife,
never gotten into strife.
Learned that one can grab a chance
if the lady likes to dance.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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The Dog And The Cat
The dog says to the cat
'Why don't you come down from that tree
I'll only chew you up and spit you out
And make you my new treat'
The cat stretches and yawns a bit
And says, ' You only think you want me down
But I'll tell you now you stupid dog
You a mutt, you ain't no hound'
'Now you've done it! 'says the dog
'I just marked your tree! '
'When you do come down we'll know the truth
About those nine lives you keep! '
'This is this and that is that! '
Said from the tree the cat
'Stupid dog thinks he's a hound
But ain't nothing but a lazy brat! '
'All you do is lay around all day
And poop where ever you go!
At least I got some dignity
I dig myself a hole'
Now the dog was steaming mad
'You come on down from that tree! '
'I'll show you some hound found
And I'll chew on that dignity! '
About that time a young girl comes out
She spates that dog on his rump
The cat she seen and jumped right into her arms
From that tree with one big jump
'Don't scare my kitty! ' the girl said
'Or I'll just have to give you away! '
The cat now stuck her tongue out at the dog
And she did still have this to say
'You see I told you, you stupid mutt of a dog
How do you like that on your rump!
You don't even know after all this time
You've been sitting in your own dump! '
copyright 2005 Bill Simmons
aka [email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
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From Another Neighborhood
No one should kick a dog,
Once it has been found...
Laying on the ground.
'But those people over there,
Have confessed they weren't aware.'
That is difficult to believe.
'The only thing they do admit to seeing,
Is the dog being dragged behind a truck.
Then strung up in a tree.
To then be cut down to lay upon the ground.
But no one saw it being kicked.'
But why didn't anyone rush to the dog's aid?
'Most of them have said,
They have a preference more for poodles.
And that dog appeared to be a mutt.
From another neighborhood.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chasing A Spot In The Sun
Chasing a spot
in the Sun
Cars and Tail
The proverbial bone
or the hand
that once
fed it
Restless
Dog sleep
of
Dog years
of
Dog life
The barking up
wrong trees
Neither taken nor done
in
this mongrel mutt
not quite
out of the
woods yet
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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Dog - Er - Ill
A mixed breed is now a 'Designer Dog'
However, there's a big 'But'.
Not so very long ago that pup
Was referred to as just a mutt.
poem by Edward Iacona
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On Tuesdays
On Tuesdays Max visited
A dame a few blocks
Away with the mutt that
Seemed to bark all day.
He went because he liked
The way she made coffee
And always offered him
Toast or cake and because
She was blind and had the
Most useless mutt for the
Blind in the whole world.
On Tuesdays she opened
Her door to him; let him
In to her world and made
Him coffee and offered him
Toast or cake and listened as
He spoke and told her jokes
And related the latest gossip.
On Tuesdays he listened as
She spoke of her youth, of her
Days of being a beauty, of the
Day she lost her sight, how she
Coped in her world of darkness.
On Tuesdays he took her for a
Walk to a local restaurant and
They dined and ate and drank
And she listened to the people
Talking around her and to Max
Who recited a new poem he’d
Written or she just sat listening
To the traffic pass by wondering
If there were white puffy clouds
Above and what the colour the sky.
On Tuesdays Max walked her home
After lunch and they undressed and
Had sex and smoked and lay on the
Bed, he gazing at her beauty and she
Glad to be living and stroking his head.
poem by Terry Collett
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Deer Leg
Tracking hoofprints in the snow with the dog.
Later on, a detached leg in the dog’s mouth.
Into the dumpster it gets hurled,
the dog circling for final traces.
We’re all looking for crowns for our efforts,
showing them off like a happy mutt.
When images of folly are rebroadcast,
some can clear them away,
others return to the chase, the meat,
not sure who claims victory.
poem by Ellen Foos
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Granddad's Candy
Granddad offered candy
from a white paper bag
and you slowly took one
and put in your mouth
and the strong peppermint flavour
exploded on your tongue
as Granddad closed his eyes
and sank back
into his chair by the fire
and he said
if you go outside
to the john
be careful of the mutt
who sleeps there
and the spiders
which hang around
waiting for little boys
and look out
for the fairies
at the bottom of the garden
hidden amongst weeds
and you nodded
as you always did
and tried to swallow the candy
as fast as you could
and Granddad said
look over by the side
and pass me
the cigarettes and lighter
and don’t let
your grandmother see
or she’ll moan about me
and my breathing
and my heart
and you looked over the side
and picked up
his cigarettes and lighter
and brought them to him
and Gran said
from the kitchen
he’s not smoking
those cigarettes again is he?
And you said
looking at Granddad
hiding them behind his back
no Gran he’s just sucking
on a candy and he’s given me
one to suck and one to keep
and Granddad had his eyes
closed still
pretending to be asleep.
poem by Terry Collett
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Park Samaritan
Resting in the park one day,
I saw a cuddly little mutt.
He looked like he came a long way
And was suffering for an empty gut.
I offered him a moist hambone,
Which he very politely took.
And soon he was gone to find
Comfort in some suitable nook.
Off he went down a trail
To find a soft spot for his meal.
The wag of his lively tail
Was more than a thanks could reveal.
In a spell he gingerly returned—
To show me his spirits were higher.
And with a friend his gift had earned,
A beautiful silky-furred admirer.
poem by Albert Price
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It was just like a dream. I could have ended up with an album that's not all that different from anything else coming out of Nashville. Mutt made the difference. He took these songs, my attitude, my creativity, and colored them in a way that is unique.
quote by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Bob.
Old Bob lived
in a cardboard box
under the stairs.
Don’t feed the mutt,
Granny said.
But you did, often,
with scraps from the table
or broken biscuits
from the battered tin
that Gran kept
on the lower shelf.
Bob was a short haired
fawn dog with eyes
like dark plump plums.
He’d snarl or growl
if anyone got too near
or touched his bowl,
except you; you he’d let
into his box and lick
your five year old face
and allow you to stroke
or hug or touch his tail.
He’d bark, snarl and growl
his dislike of humanity;
you, however, he seemed
to love, somehow.
poem by Terry Collett
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Near-Miss
A mouse, all gray with tiny ears
was crying salty rodent tears.
A cat had cornered him and planned
to eat him as he ate his aunt.
Just when the cat had opened wide
a voice was heard from the outside.
Dog Brutus, who resided near
had just decided to appear.
He barged, as he was fond of doing
inside and saw the trouble brewing.
And since he liked all little mice
he told the cat 'now you be nice'.
The cat, however, was not used
to be directed and abused.
And with the swipe of its big paw
the mouse went down into the craw.
By now, the dog was mad as hell
and things looked for the cat not well.
He gulped the cat (and thus the mouse)
and wandered off to his own house.
And as he settled down to snooze
he saw a pair of Rockford shoes
approaching from across the street
he knew it was the butcher, Pete.
The butcher was a nasty man
and always fought with brother Stan.
He carried in his hand a knife,
the dog now feared for his own life.
Now let me tell you how it ended,
the butcher, who had been offended
by the mere presence of the mutt
just stood there scratching his big gut.
That was the signal for the cat,
which in the dog's own stomach sat.
The cat responded to her master
who, instantly, sensed a disaster.
She bounced and jumped, the mouse did follow
the air was sparse inside the hollow.
And through the movement Brutus shivered
when on command his brain delivered
a burp of monumental size
and this now triggered a surprise.
The cat, (and thus the mouse as well)
exploded outward with a yell.
Thus now you know that dogs that belch
throw up (but only if they're Welsh) .
You didn't think that cat survived
inside? Of oxygen deprived?
You're right of course, but let me say
the mouse and cat inside DID pray.
And, in the end, I told my spouse,
it all came down to Mouse to mouth.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Love of Mr Chowdy
You loved to hug Mr Chowdy;
You liked it when his wet nose
Brushed your chin or his long
Tongue licked your ear. Don’t let
The darn mutt bark too much,
Father said, or he’ll have to go
And sleep in the yard out in the
Doghouse. You used to feed him
From scraps saved from meals,
Or pushed him small pieces under
The table out of sight of the others.
Some evenings you managed to
Sneak him into your room and let
Him lie in comfort on your bed;
Listening out in case the parents
Came and turfed him off into
The kitchen or out in the cold.
Some nights you could hear his
Heavy breathing across the way
Beside the window where you let
Him lay. Now you’re much older
And Mr Chowdy’s dead; now it’s
Your husband’s snoring and heavy
Breathing that you hear in bed.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Poet Laurie Ate
Laurie was my dog
And he loved to bite
He wasn't very clever
And not at all bright.
He didn't like my friend
A mad poet called Fred
One day Laurie bit him
On the back of his head.
Fred wasn't at all pleased
And bit my dog back
So Laurie retaliated
And went on the attack.
They wrestled on the floor
And Fred got bit a lot
So to get my dog off him
I hit the mutt with a flowerpot.
But Laurie was very tough
And the pot bounced off his head
Then poor old Fred stopped moving
In fact he was now Dead.
I didn't know what to do
The poet didn't deserve to die
Looking down at Laurie
I asked this crazy dog Why?
But he just didn't care
And kept chewing at Fred
This loony dog was eating him
The he swallowed dead Fred's head.
Poor Fred was now all gone
But this must have been his fate
To lose his life to a psycho dog
The poet Laurie ate.
poem by Kevin Halls
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