The inhale like the ocean waves gliding like satin across the shore
Her exhale a reminder of the rhythm
The earth, the moon and the mighty sun
The joys found within this prison
The plants that cool her blistering skin
The water that quenches her thirst
The tears that run down her happy face
When she’s reminded of what she loves most
The thoughts she has as she watches the world
Her cognitive intelligent brain
Far superior than her neighbours cat
Or the man sleeping on the train
The precious sleep she enjoys 7 hours a night
The woman that lies beside her
Watching the rise and fall of her chest
The doctors say it’s terminal inside her
How quickly everything fades away
The children, the family what-have-you.
Faced with a tumbling cliff
To the ocean where we found you.
Tag: Pets
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The painter sat watching the world go by
He watched the people and gazed at the sky
So relaxed he observed the busy little street
The children running with their little feet
The dogs pooing in the middle of the road
Embarrassed owners red faced and shroud
He sat and sat for days on end
He never painted
Not a penny did he spend
He brought his own coffee
And perched on the bench
Next to the cafe of a horrible wench
She threw her cigarettes into the street
Which were swept up by the dragging feet
The weather would change
But his routine would not
In the blistering storm
In an anarak he’d stop
Wipe the seat down and take a pew
Observe in slow motion, kind yet subdewed -
Oh little feet how do you pitter patter
Along the wooden floor
Gathering all the dog hair, fluff
and god knows what more
No matter how much I hoover
There’s always more beneath
Your tiny little sausage toes
And squidgy little feet -
There’s a penguin on my head
How’d it get there?
It’s telling me to take it for a ride
I’ve ask him politely
To remove himself but spritely
He pulls my hair and tells me then to stride
I’m not your horse penguin!
I don’t think so!
I’m getting quite frustrated at this game
The penguin looks right at me
His eyes fixed entrap me
And in a trance I canter across the plane -
The rain patters on the window pane
While the dog snores at my feet
My head a little fuzzy from the gin
The whirlwind of yesterday behind me
Have I escaped alive and unscathed?
Do I live to see another day?
A lesson learnt, amendments were made
And in my heart I did the right thing
The rain patters on the window pane
The wind whirls at the trees
As I sit cosy with coffee in hand
I imagine going for a stroll
The wind on my cheeks
The birds in my ears
The mud squelching under my boots
The cold gloving my hands
The water guiding my path
The freedom to go wherever I choose
The rain patters on the window pane
I’ve already been for a walk
I’ll sit here for a moment taking life in
Grateful for this moment, serene within. -
What would I do if you left me now?
How would I feel all alone?
Riddled with guilt not knowing your side
Perfection is far from this home
My days would be spent wet and distraught
Eleven years gone with speed
When I compare others frolicking in forests ahead
And you following my lead
Slave to my routine I do not think twice
Yet saviour came in a child
For company for you
Now I have two
Beings chained dragging behind
I wish I could stop
And be more aware
It catches me when you’re weak
How wonderful you are
And blind I am
That you could be gone in a blink.
This pattern I have I wish it could stop
I wish I could slow right down
I wish I could take myself out of this robot
And play with you both on the ground
I’m working on it, my journey is long
I don’t know how I got so lost
My mind corrupt by germs and dirt
My heart glazed with frost
Yet there is no being I love more on earth
Than you my loyal baby
Since 12 weeks old you’re by my side
And perfect in every way
I love the way you smell of cheese
And chomp at our visitors
I love the expressions on your face
And how you both act like sisters
I do not deserve such a beauty like you
My guilt grows every day
The fear that looms like vulture
As I watch more hairs turn grey
Thank you for the reminder
I’m sorry I am
I wish I was a better person
I’m working on it
Really I really am
To be more in the present.
Sin Agua Poetry Blog 