A conversation with Doggieboy.

A Conversation with My Dog

Do you like Christmas
my doggie boy?
"Oh yes I like it
with love and joy
I like it when I go to sleep
I like it when I hear the creep
of Santas boots up on the roof
and all the reindeer little hooves
I like it when I take a walk
and when the neighbors stop to talk
I like it when I get to eat
scrambled eggs and with my feet
I step upon the plate so clearly
so it won't slide from there to herely
I like it when standing on a book
so into my stocking I can look
I see what Santa's placed inside
ten pieces of carrot nicely dried
four little bones made from rice
cause I'm a vegan and it's not nice
to eat an animal much like me
I'd like it I know, but can't you see
just like a cannibal I would be
Oh no I couldn't I wouldn't no no
I wouldn't eat them even though
They'd be like the cookies
which call to my Mom
They call her and call her
and do her much harm"

So what is it, doggie, you want to convey
Do you want to starve on Christmas day?
you'll lose weight and famish
you'll be weak and thin
you'll be in sad shape
for the shape that you're in

You'll cry out with hunger
you'll cry out with pain
over and over and over again.

Do you think that skinny
proves you are best
happy and slim and
to hell with the rest?
Does size define the who of you
or undermine the real you

Does it give purpose
meaning
self worth
or is it much more
more than your girth
that tells of your real self,
the feeling self
the mirth,
the joy and friendship
you give here on earth.

"I know! I know!" said doggieboy
"I'm here on this earth to give someone joy
My Mommy My Mommy I love her dearly
I lick her fingers and tell her clearly
I love you, I love you, that's what it's about
Now get off your chair I need to go out..."

vrd 12/18/2011(Jenny)

Can't think... for the life of me I cannot think...

I'm trying so hard to find the muse I lost so long ago. I used to think of bits and pieces of things to write about. I'd jot them down and later when I got a bunch of things I'd use them to write a poem.. but now I rarely even think of anything. I did think of this line the other day...

"There are many shades of loneliness"


Then about two weeks later another line appeared...

" Most are colored blue"

So far that's all that has come to me. Will I ever do anything with it? I just don't know. It's doubtful. J