Dog Poems

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
...

We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
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The neighbors' dog will not stop barking.
He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark
that he barks every time they leave the house.
They must switch him on on their way out.
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One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
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Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
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Down behind the dustbin
I met a dog called Ted.
‘Leave me alone,’ he says,
‘I’m just going to bed.’
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The tires on my bike are flat.
The sky is grouchy gray.
At least it sure feels like that
Since Hanna moved away.
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Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.
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So they bought you
And kept you in a
Very good home
Cental heating
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The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket molds in his hands.
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Some -
thus not all. Not even the majority of all but the minority.
Not counting schools, where one has to,
and the poets themselves,
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Mother doesn't want a dog.
Mother says they smell,
And never sit when you say sit,
Or even when you yell.
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Our gloves are stiff with the frozen blood,
Our furs with the drifted snow,
As we come in with the seal--the seal!
In from the edge of the floe.
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Lady Clara Vere de Vere
Was eight years old, she said:
Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.

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Still dark.
The unknown bird sits on his usual branch.
The little dog next door barks in his sleep
inquiringly, just once.
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The murkiness of the local garage is not so dense
that you cannot make out the calendar of pinup
drawings on the wall above a bench of tools.
Your ears are ringing with the sound of
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The hunchback in the park
A solitary mister
Propped between trees and water
From the opening of the garden lock
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For years we've had a little dog,
Last year we acquired a big dog;
He wasn't big when we got him,
He was littler than the dog we had.
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I’M travellin’ down the Castlereagh, and I’m a station hand,
I’m handy with the ropin’ pole, I’m handy with the brand,
And I can ride a rowdy colt, or swing the axe all day,
But there’s no demand for a station-hand along the Castlereagh. +
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The badger grunting on his woodland track
With shaggy hide and sharp nose scrowed with black
Roots in the bushes and the woods, and makes
A great high burrow in the ferns and brakes.
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(Stage Opens) .
(Dog can't keep his cool. He Barks) .
Dog Your Speed as well as Intelligence is a subject to Laughter. Please speed up and move a bit faster.
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Despised man, black dog
Operating by night, barking mad
Going to and fro, lying doggo
Sick as a dog, barking up the wrong tree
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Tired of working like a dog
Or living a dog's life; dog it
Pull yourself out of the doghouse
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For sale: chihuahua. Great guard dog.
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Baby I've got to
Let my dog out
Of his dog house
My dog ready to
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(A Cat is Wandering) .
Cat- My Eyes search for a source of food Desperately. I Just Wonder How my search will be satisfied willingly.

Stray Dog- Sounds like someone wants to get Stuffed. But the Solution hasnt been answered.
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Dear Dad,
To me god is just dog spelled backwards, in my eyes I'm not religious but I consider my self as an agnostic. If god (spelled backwards) is really all that great then why can't we be who we are (without the consequences) . If god (spelled backwards) really exists and really loves us then shouldn't we support he support us in any thing we decide to do. If god (spelled backwards) is so great then can he create a mountain that he cannot pick up? This is why (to me) god is just dog spelled backwards. Some people think of a dog as smelly and un deserving of love. I think god (spelled backwards) is like that. But don't judge me for this, remember this is America and I can believe in what I choose. Most people consider a dog as man's best friend. Lets hope that dog (spelled backwards) doesn't catch rabies.
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A young dog met an old dog at a barbecue one day
The young dog licked the old dog's face and together they did play.

The young dog every now and then wanted to play a little fetch…
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The sense of fear is human made
Unless otherwise, firm panic is self-made
To the same item, some are a fright
And others are bold and stand delighted
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