“On this Day” Repost – The Dog

Facebook has one good feature – “On This Day”, and it’s reminded me why I’m feeling a bit …”off” … today.  My original post can be found here.

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The dog takes me for a walk,   
pulling against the leash,
strong and determined,
straining to break free.

We only walk in winter,
the dog and I,
weather grey and gloomy,
under short day skies.

My dog is black.

© ceenoa

If you went down to the woods today

If you went down to the woods today,
did you walk in sunshine or stand in the shadow?
If you went down to the woods today,
did you dance in the leaves or recline in the wallow?
If you went down to the woods today,
  did you walk on the wide or step on the narrow?
If you went down to the woods today,
will you go back again tomorrow?

© ceenoa

Autumn Leaves (2)

Underneath my skin, vicious things lie

Underneath my skin, vicious things lie
green envy
red rage
white pain
blue loneliness

they wriggle like worms
dug up from the dirt
trying to burrow back to the haven of the dark

as they scrabble in their desperate turmoil to not be seen
they create, in one ridiculously sublime moment
a pattern of iridescent colour

green
red
white
blue
Underneath my skin, beauty lies

© ceenoa

* In an attempt to make something dark more palatable, I amended the original poem to a more positive ending – sometimes I even believe it*

The Original Version

Vicious things lie underneath my skin
green envy
red rage
white pain
blue loneliness

they wriggle like worms
dug up from the dirt
trying to burrow back to the haven of the dark

as they scrabble in their desperate turmoil to not be seen
they create, in one ridiculously sublime moment
a pattern of iridescent colour that hides the dirty truth

green envy
red rage
white pain
blue loneliness
Underneath my skin, vicious things lie

© ceenoa

The Canine Cure

I long for the canine cure
with a passion as strong as it’s pure
for the screech of the dog catchers van
which will allow me to be who I am

but, oh he is sneaky, this dog
as he slinks in trailing the fog
the eddies and pools, all shades of grey
that smother the clear light of day

I’ve tried to hide from his gaze
by turning to face the suns haze
but the shadows that grew at my side
were his refuge, his quiet place to hide

I pretended he just wasn’t there
but still I felt his coarse hair
as he brushed past my armour again
seeking to find his way in

I threw him the scraps from my soul
and he pounced and let out a growl
I thought I might make my escape
but I heard still his soft, steady pace

there is no outpacing the hound
no reprieve from his bite can be found
so I’ll suffer the feel of his teeth
till healing comes from beneath

somewhere there is inside me
the person that strives to be free
to face down the dog that is black
and revel in the shape of his lack

© ceenoa

 

The Forest that was Not

To call it writers block would be understating the fact.

Writers Forest is more like it.

Writers Doomsday Forest is even more accurate.

Nothing is happening in my brain-to-finger-equals-typing equation.

There is no funny verse percolating in my coffee pot brain, not humorous rhymes bubbling in my stew – in short, depression rules unto the 26th letter of the alphabet, and all combinations thereof.

What little that is rattling away in the very empty desert that used to be the forest, (said forest being decimated by the “blurgh” disease, that ran rampant and has only left little stumps which I keep bumping into and banging my head upon), is so downbeat that only moles are going to hear it – naked mole rats, those really ugly blind ones that crawl right over he top of each other in their tunnels, just to get to the tasty stringy root.

Not even a mother could love them, which is probably why they are blind, because if they could see themselves they would go into immediate spontaneous species extinction due to shock, seeing as they all thought they looked like Cap’n Jack Sparrow on a bad day (which is his good day), when in actual fact they look exactly like naked mole rats – something the cat refused to throw up as it was so completely beneath a cats dignity to eat something that ugly in the first place.

I hope the sun shines tomorrow, I can’t stand my own negativity!