Monthly Archives: April 2008

April Poem #21

“Did I steal your seat?”
The lady asked the other.
The Other had come out
from the back of the clinic
and the Lady thought
she cries.
I stole her seat.
The Other shook her head
tears in her eyes
and sat elsewhere.

On the Nature of a Man and his Dog

We have a cat that I have talked about somewhat.  Kona Blend Coffee is her name, but we call her Kona.  She was originally Kona of Onyx or Onyx of Kona, but the Onyx moniker has fallen to the wayside, which makes me feel bad because it was Sam’s choice for the kitten.  She is a lovely ball of fluff and I am very glad we got her.  I have never had a cat lick my fingers or playfully bite me.

She did accidentily scratch my head getting on the bed this morning.  I have forgiven her though.

My whole life I have maintained myself to be a dog person.  And to be true, I am.  I will not be a fibber; Dogs are more work to have than cats.  Cats generally take care of themselves and don’t need to be let outside all the time.  I don’t need to take Kona on a walk.  She doesn’t start doing backflips and circles if my hand gets within a foot of a leash.

But I am still a dog person.

I tried explaining this to Sam once, and she didn’t like it.  Men – not all, and certainly not just men – are attached to their dogs.  Attached in a way that is hard to explain or understand.  I have known a few men (parents of friends) who had a dog a while ago.  Losing that dog was so hard they have never been able to get another one.  Yet, these same men would no doubt be able to find a new woman to spend their life with should their current one pass on.

Why is this?  This probably sounds a bit callous, but do we (men) feel more connection with our canines then our wives?  Given the choice between the dog and my lady, who would I rather be in the woods with?  Well, it depends.  Grendel is a terrible geocacher.  I also have to carry his poop.

But on those occasions I want to be alone, I actually mean alone with Grendel.  A dog doesn’t disrupt my thoughts on a walk.  I can talk to him and pretend he is saying back what I want to hear.

I love Sam.  I love her more than any other human being.  But to call her my soul mate is hard.  I feel like I have a dog for a soulmate.  This happens to people.  When Grendel passes on – and he will, he’s already seven – I will have a hard time of it.  I do think I’ll be able to get a new dog, but there will always be a Grendel shaped hole.

My first dog was named Curie.  She was a muttski, as I call them.  The few summers of her life brought clippers to her fur as it was thick and prone to matting.  She was an incredibly intelligent dog and playful.  Curie memorized her trick pattern so that upon sight of a biscuit, she would sit, jump, lay down, roll over, sit back up and bark without command.  The whole process was very funny and I never had the heart to break it down.

Curie’s liver failed when she was two years old.  I was at camp at the time.

Despite Grendel’s impact upon me, I still maintain her to have been the best dog ever.  And that is what I was thinking about on my bicycle today.  Dogs and humans.  We sure do complement each other.

April Poem #19 and State of the Blog/What’s the Book?

I Swear You Did It

Up from bed
Where is it?
The door
The door opens
and the barn door opens
and it splashes
upon the
The toilet?
I don’t know what I’m doing,
this is the bathroom, right?
To bed again.

Blog is a silly word.  I wish there were a better word for online journals with that same shortness.  Anyway, I have made it through almost all of the April Poetry Challenge at Poetic Asides. There is quite a community forming, which I am not a part of.  Serious poetry is not my style.  There are several very good poems being written.  I am just doing my best there.

I have posted on this blog almost every day for about two months!  That is a long time to keep doing something.  It has been fun, and also nice to have regular reader(s).  Yes, people I went to school with count!  I suppose it helps to actually update with real things.

I think I had said, but if I didn’t, I submitted a story to Glimmer Train last week.  It has gone through numerous critiquing and is as clean as I think it will ever be.  I love the story and I have been writing it since High School.  Strange that it remains under 2000 words.  But what can one do?

Reading right now:  Two bread cookbooks, Interview with the Vampire, an annotated copy of HP Lovecraft stories, and a book of Flannery O’Connor stories.  I just finished with Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, which was very good and I will no doubt post my thoughts in a seperate spot.

Work continues on Attack of the Space Pirates.  Yesterday saw the encyclopedia entry for the history of SPACE (Sentient and Peaceful Association of Cosmic Entities) as well as varous other things.  It is a very silly and fun book to work on.  For instance, the currency of SPACE is the speso (spay-so) which cracks me up every time.

April Poem #18

You are taking what I said wrong.
There is no connection between
what I said and what you think.
You did not listen
You only heard.
I say what mean
please don’t infer
for that only leads
you to anger
toward me.

April Poem #16

The aliens came today.
We were surprised
as they brought us
a message of peace
and love and then
told us how it would happen.

Our lives were wrong,
they said.
We must live like they did
and then used force to
show us.
For your own good they said.
We want to help
they said.

Help from them I cannot
need or want
So I held my head high
and they said it
would be better if
I didn’t.

But I stood against
and as I saw the crater
in my chest
My last words were
“Go back to Earth.”

Bonus Poem

Today at Poetic Asides, LeeBee has us writing an insult poem.  I’ve already done this.  I still will write a new poem, but I felt compelled to post this poem as well.

With a crooked nose and big brown teeth
Cauliflower ears and fat like a wreath
Around your middle, Boy you’re chunky.
And your face reminds me a lot of a monkey.
A paper bag would go well with that noodle!
And you smell like an accident left by a poodle.
No one will love you, not even a nun
Except for me, for you are my son.

April Poem #14

How the Dog Behaves

With his fur across
the blanket but he remains unseen
I know he’s up to something
My senses are quite keen.

There lay a trail of litter
from the front room to the back
the kitchen is filthy now
the trash can has no sack.

It’s at the feet of Grendel,
the monster of my house.
Food left out trembles like
the settling of a house.

He’ll sniff it out.  He’ll find it.
With him there is no doubt
And he’ll nose at your hand after
with a still greasy smelly snout.

So help me I will pet him,
my anger will be gone
For I know the poor boy
cannot stand to be gone from food for long.