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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Related quotes
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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Snow Like Horses
The world is filling up with snow.
Blowing and sticking
To everything
And hoofprints appear
Pounding the ground hard and icy
Howling wind
Like whinnying horses
Tossing their heads
Snow like hair
Grooming
Snow like hair like Kelly
The world is filling up with snow
And her eyes are my light
When even she can't see
She is a rock
No one can weather
Bigger
Stronger
Protection
Go ne.
And the world went white with snow.
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
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COUGAR PERFECT PT 2...by talile ali
AND THE SUN SINKS SLOWLY
ON THE PRIME OF YOUR LIFE
YOU THE LOVING MOTHER
YOU THE ANGRY WIFE
IF ONLY HE WOULD DO YOU
YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO SNEAK
BUT BABE THATS JUST AN EXCUSE
YOU DROOL OVER YOUNG MEAT
DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU DO IT?
JUST KNOW YOU HAVE A NEED?
BABE, YOU JUST DON'T SEEM TO FIT
THE WAY YOU FEED THAT GREED
I GUESS YOU'VE BECOME SO DETACHED
IN SUCH A UNIQUE WAY
BECAUSE YOU'LL BE DOING YOUNG BOYS
UNTIL YOU PASS AWAY
SO SOMEWHERE IN SOME DUMPSTER
SIDE OF THE ROAD OR DITCH
YOUR LITTLE SEXUAL BLUNDER
WILL EULOGIZE THAT ITCH
ON TOP OF OLD SMOKY SOMEWHERE
ALL COVERED WITH HOPE AND TEARS
NEVER FORGET WHY SO MANY COUGARS
LOST ALL HOPE TO THEIR AGING FEARS
talile ali
09/2010
poem by Talile Ali
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My American Flag
Flag of the brave
Victory's only passage
With the Azure night
The dash of the fire ablaze
The stripe of pearly snow
Smybol of a victory
America's Victory
Soldiers true and brave
Trudging in the winter snow
Through the dark, hidden passage
The single, small fire ablaze
For I am of the dark night
Yet in my night:
I cry for victory,
I set my enemies ablaze,
For I am of the Brave
Within the hidden passage
The wind, the rain, the snow
Of the Sea, of the snow
Or hiding in the dark, cool night
Within every passage
In glorious victory
The symbol of the strong and brave
My fire within is ablaze
A Torch ablaze
The flash of falling snow
The strong and brave
In the night
Fighting for victory
leaving the passage
Victory has found a passage
The town is ablaze
Today is the victory
In the winter snow
The battle won this night
The shed blood of the brave
With the brave, in the passage
In the night, of the fire
Trudging in the snow, I won the victory
poem by Maria Robbins
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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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Yes I Am As happy As A Squirrel In The Dumpster
Yes I am as happy as a squirrel in the dumpster
As happy as maggots in the wound of a dying dog name Fluffy
In my happiness I am dying day by day and by the day I am to happy to pray
Yes dying of happiness found in the dumpster where we buried Fluffy
I am as happy as a smooth stone tied around the neck of a long day yes the long day falling like a stone
Yes the long day smooth as a neck that holds the head of a squirrel feeding in the dumpster of found food that human throw away against the hunger of the world that is too hungry to pray for happiness
I have buried my feet in a pit of maggot blinded by hunger they are dreaming of getting wings but I will throw them away yes yes I will throw them all away because of their hunger hanging heavily around the neck of a smooth stones that falls like the clouds that leaks their heavy liquid load in the long light of the day and the day is as happy as I am who will not pray
I am lost yes lost in the wounded warmth of a dumpster where happiness is as long as the day
I am as happy as a pig wallowing in a muddy ditch
Yes the long day has ditched the sun and the night is happy to be muddyed by stars
I am a pig when it comes to happiness and I say yes when it comes I am yes I am long in my happiness
It is hard won by the muddy love of human warmth packed beneath the sheets where the long day sleeps
I am as happy as a Robin with a beak full of worms
Yes I worm my way throught happiness as the long day worms its way out of night that has buryed the sun with its own happiness full of warmth packed beneath the space from which the stars come
I am as happy as one who stands out against the many lost in the many of ones who have lost their oneness in the collected warmth of the many
Yes I am one with happiness that collect for me the lost warmth found in a ditch that acts as a dumpster
I am lost in my happiness and I have forgotten how to pray yes I have forgotten how to because with my happiness there is no need to beg the begger of Gods
Yes there is no need to beg the forgotten Gods
poem by David E. Patton
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Do It! It Works
Don't deal with those,
Who wish you failure.
Or participate in their shenanigans.
You've got to watch your back,
Around people like that.
Don't seek from them approval,
Or try to appeal with your disclosures.
But keep your eyes open...
And your tongue still,
Behind a mouth kept closed.
Today it's getting more difficult,
To even trust yourself.
And you know who you are.
And what it takes to weaken your temptations.
It is worse to make promises...
The lips may utter,
But the heart does not keep.
And sharing them with others...
Does not decrease their teasing.
They may not admit it...
But they wish to see you quit!
To rid yourself of dreams.
So they can be the ones to say...
Give up your hopes,
As they scheme.
While doing their best to discourage your efforts.
By saying things intended to demean.
Don't deal with those,
Who wish you failure.
Or participate in their shenanigans.
You've got to watch your back,
Around people like that.
And...
Don't seek from them approval,
Or try to appeal with your disclosures.
But keep your eyes opened.
And your tongue sitting still.
Keep your teeth clinched...
Behind a mouth kept closed.
And you will remain peaceful,
Happy and fulfilled.
Do it!
It works.
Few who make claims they know you...
Are not that supportive of your success!
Choose to remove your life...
From someone else's contest.
Champion your own efforts.
Do it!
It works.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some days I would go without any fire at all, and eat raw frozen meat and melt snow in my mouth for water.
quote by Buffalo Bill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alpha Man
leading the
pack of wolves
silent in
the snow
killing the herd
in such
a quick show
blood pours
forming a river
as he claims
victory
around the
land
inside the house
there is no talk
for all the
guilt
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Difference
I was watching a flight of swans
in a neat row over the horizon.
You were counting the pebbles on the beach.
Sun will shortly crease the clouds,
but first let us decide for our starving existence
how far is our home?
I cannot assemble the broken mirror,
the splinters have twisted images.
Somebody knocks out a tomb in sand,
and I wait for a giant wave to wash
out the traces.
The death offers the final peace.
poem by Satish Verma
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One Meat Ball
(l. singer-h.zaret)
The little man walked up and down
To find an eating place in town
He read the menu through and through
To see what fifteen cents could do
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
He told the waiter near at hand
A simple dinner he had planned
The guests were startled one and all to hear
That waiter loudly call
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, this here gent wants one meat ball
Little man felt very bad
One meat ball was all he had
And in his dreams he hears that call
Ya gets no bread with one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
Well, you get no bread with one meat ball
Well, he could afford but one meat ball
One meat ball, one meat ball
All he could afford was one meat ball
One meat ball
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eternity
eternity is a trap
no, go chase the horizon
go chase tomorrow
go chase time
go chase the end of thought
or go back a step
with the the egg or chick first theory
the world is created
for a chasing game
round and round and round
the starting point
is the final point
eternal grace
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Tracking Down A Runaway
Call out the dogs and the National Guard.
My baby got away and I'm taking it hard.
I slipped the border and I jumped the train,
I'll do anything to get her back again.
Tracking down a runaway, down a runaway,
Down a runaway, I'm following the trail of broken hearts.
Who's that sneaking like an alley cat,
I've got the jump on you baby, can't do me like that,
I'm a love hound honey and I've got your scent,
I'm a wild crazy dog and I'm hell bent.
Tracking down a runaway, down a runaway,
Down a runaway, I'm following the trail of broken hearts.
No where to run, yeah, nowhere to hide,
No where to run, nowhere to hide, to hide, yeah, hey.
Well the midnight stars in the midnight sky,
They look down on me and they wonder why,
She may get far but she won't get away, huh,
I'm gonna run her to the ground every night and day.
Tracking down a runaway, tracking down a runaway,
Down a runaway, I'm following the trail of broken hearts.
Tracking down a runaway, down a runaway, yeah,
Down a runaway, yeah, yeah, down a runaway.
Look out baby, groove baby.
I see you baby, you won't get far, I got you on my mind,
I'm on your trail baby and love on my mind.
I'm tracking down a runaway, tracking down a runaway,
Down a runaway, following the trail of broken hearts.
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never
I wake. Yes, it's a coffin lid.-With effort
I reach my hands out and I call
For help. Yes, I recall the tortures
Of dying.-Yes, this is no dream!-
And without effort, like a spider web
I push aside my casket's rotting wood
And stand. How bright the winter light appears
In the crypt's doorway! Can I doubt it?-
I see the snow. The crypt's without a door.
It's time to head for home. How stunned they'll be!
I know this park, I cannot lose my way.
But oh how different it looks now!
I hurry. Snowdrifts. Frigid boughs
Of dead trees poke deep into the sky,
There are no tracks or sounds. It's still.
The realm of death in an enchanted world.
And here's my home. But what decay!
I'm shocked by this heartbreaking sight.
The village sleeps beneath a snowy blanket,
There is no path in all the boundless steppe.
Yes, there it is: upon a far-off hill
I see the ancient belfry of the church.
A frozen traveler in the whirling snow,
It stands out clear against the cloudless span.
No winter birds or midges dot the snow.
I understand: the earth has long lain chill
And dead. For whom do I conserve
The breath within my chest? To whom did death
Return me? What's my mind
Connected to? And what's its final purpose?
Where shall I go if there is no one to embrace?
And time has lost itself in space?
O, Death, return! And hasten to assume
The fatal burden of this final life.
And you, stiff corpse of earth take flight
And bear my corpse on the eternal path!
poem by Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet
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In Broken Images
He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.
He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.
Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.
Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;
Questioning their relevance, I question the fact.
When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
When the fact fails me, I approve my senses.
He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and sharp in my broken images.
He in a new confusion of his understanding;
I in a new understanding of my confusion.
poem by Robert Graves
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The Bleeding Sound
The sound bleeding
In the cool ear,
An icy silence around,
The sun seeping beyond
The hot spastic horizon,
Weeping clouds
In tornadic winds
Like screaming bells
Ringing their syllables,
Trying to get higher,
The falling sight
Tracking down the sky's white
Into the night,
Tracking down the dreams of this medieval burg
Into its red stones
Those dreams dieing in the water,
Tracking down the religious songs
Into the clay,
In oxygen chains.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Ecclesiastes In 4 Short Stanzas
O the poor men, they had no blankets
And it was meaningless under the sun
The wise were only chasing the wind
The meaningless wind, under the sun
O the poor men, with no one to lie down with
They were cold and under the sun
If only they had their blankets and meaning
They could chase folly under the sun
O the poor men, oppressed and freezing
With no folly to chase under the sun
Their oppressors left them with no blankets
With no comfort under the sun
And it was meaningless
poem by Something Changing
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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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Our Final Farewell
To say our final farewell it happend not that long ago.
Our final farewell, I remember it so clearly.
Our final farewell, I remember your smile.
Our final farewell, I remember how proud you were
that you got promoted.
Our final farewell, happened like any 'goodbye'.
Our final farewell, you seemed happy.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy life.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy everything,
Our final farewell, I remember the conversation.
Our final farewell, sometimes haunts me.
Our final farewell, happened so quick.
Our final farewell, I didn't know that it was going to
be our last.
Our final farewell, happened more then a year ago
Your final farewell, happened on the 15/11/05 as you
took your own life.
poem by Nikki Hamilton
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For Molly, Concerning God
Is God the one who eats the meat
off the bones of dead people?
-Molly Miranda Jong-Fast, age 3 1/2
God is the one,
Molly,
whether we call him
Him,
or Her,
treeform or spewing
volcano,
Vesuvius or vulva,
penis-rock,
or reindeer-on-cave-wall,
God is the one
who eats
our meat,
Molly,
& we yield
our meat
up willingly.
Meat is our
element,
meat is our
lesson.
When our bodies fill
with each other,
when our blood swells
in our organs
aching for another,
body of meat,
heart of meat,
soul of meat,
we are only doing
what God wants
us to—
meat joining meat
to become insubstantial air,
meat fusing
with meat
to make
a small wonder
like you.
The wonder of you
is that you push
our questions
along into
the future—
so that I know
again
the wonder of meat
through you,
the wonder of meat
turning to philosophy,
the wonder of meat
transubstantiated
into poetry,
the wonder of
sky-blue meat
in your roundest eyes,
the wonder of
dawn-colored meat
in your cheeks & palms,
the wonder of meat
becoming
air.
You
are my theorem,
my proof,
my meaty metaphysics,
my little questioner,
my small Socrates
of the nursery-schoolyard.
To think that
such wonder
can come from meat!
Well then,
if God is hungry—
let Him eat,
let Her eat.
poem by Erica Jong
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