Thursday, August 16, 2007

Clothed in Fur - and - Honey and Light and Everthing Right

to fight

human race have got got got taken all that in us is good

twined and mangled it for the sickness

in a portion of the world called the 'hood

others of our race, but not our breed

are used as come-on for in-training fights

like us, they travel where the world lead

but it's not their nature to lurch & bite

these gentler psyches immersed in violence

must dwell their life in panic and fright

onto the blood spattered Earth we tread

the meek and the guiltless made mean

willing or no, to the cruel affray we're led

and though we have been courageous and strong

in the ring some of us will neglect and fall

circled by a jeering, cheering, cold throng

this shouldn't be how we get or end

retrieve us in the ideas you keep,

and include us in the supplications you send

we were not meant to dwell this way

delight aid us anyway that you can

be our voices, for we don't have a say

domestic dog combat should be forever banned...

right of first publication 2007 by kathy pippig harris


For Sluggo

In His hands, at The Bridge...


honey and visible visible visible visible visible light and everything right

his glorious tawny coat is the silk of spun gold

the heat of his pelt is morning's first light

the shininess on his wing is that of polished amber

it's all just portion of what do him, oh so right

what courses of study through his venas are liquid sun drops

for his heart's a beating light pumping aureate love

his eyes, soulful, are the colour of honey in moonlight

and his merry spirit is blessed by the angels above

he is all that is good, unbridled, and set free,

there's magic in his smiling and healing in his touch

this gentle beingness is the sun's light wrapped in fur

he who inquires so very small and gives so very much

his look imparts more than than any words spoken

and as mighty as the pen is, it can't fully describe

his unconditional love, loyalty, and arrant devotion,

and the gifts of joyousness to be given, therein that reside

his fidelity dances 'round him on filigree wings

it's that nimbus, aflame, in aglow bright hues

the fulfilment of all my cherished, fantastic dreams

for now and ever, he's the first mate my psyche would choose

he is the bright light at each day's end

and the star radiance when nighttime clip sets in

like no other, he is my very beloved friend

come up dawning he's the rise sun and all...

... that's right and GOLDEN

right of first publication © 2004 by kathy pippig harris

Labels: , , , ,

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?