CHASING GHOSTS WHO CHASE TAILS
by Bryan Borland
For Spike, The Brave,
who licked toes and rode in wheelbarrows
and who slept on the crest of our roof, watching,
and Molly, The Mother, who
birthed my calico littermates,
kittens we resuscitated with mouth to mouth
who slept in balls at our feet.
For Honey, The Everything,
who loved me like her own,
deaf by old age, she read our lips
and hands. Our castle was
the House of Cat and Cocker Spaniel
the first ten years of my life.
I pity the homes without stray
hair, or puddles of urine that dampen
socks unexpectedly.
The truth is I’ve loved more dogs
than men, our family plot more
our old backyard,
where dozens of shoeboxes
lay just below the dirt.
© Bryan Borland
Thanks to Patti for the inspiration.
beautiful title
and poem Bryan
people who worked long in with cows or grew up next to them seem to miss a lot the wallowing in their dung.
i miss the horse shit on the road. those old horses had a different thing going on compare to the new richie bichie money boom stuff that rides my village those days…
or it is only me and my own problems..
Oh dear Bryan I read this after I just sent you an insane email I am so sorry. This is amazing oh man
Patti, your responses to what I write are always so heartfelt. You never have to apologize.
This poem speaks such truth. Our floors are Pergo and when Chloe Sophia (2/14/04-3/31/10) comes in from outside her prints remain on the floor. I cannot bring myself to wash floor this week as it will be the last time I see her tracks. Funny how that use to be a pain to clean up and now I would leave them forever if I could.
“I pity the homes without stray
hair, or puddles of urine that dampen
socks unexpectedly.”
Now the next time I have to wipe little kitty prints from the top of my ceramic stove top I’ll do so with a smile on my face.
Dig it..But can you take Mugsy from us for a bit since you are predisposed to animal love (Grin)
He’s a black and white Havenese with a Mohawk. (It’s true, I’m a closet hair stylist) It wouldn’t be a problem other then his new penchant for bling and since you are now a famous poet, uh, oh never mind, just got another bill from Jarod…Sigh
I’ll babysit Mugsy, but I might have to do something about that mohawk.
And the bling is no problem. How about a diamond-studded grill?
Classic since he has a huge overbite and was denied breeding papers for the genetic offense..Truth? It just makes him cuter.
What a great homage! And I can totally relate to the shoe boxes that lie just below the surface. I had a bird once and when it died, I buried it in a little mini-casket someone gave me for Halloween (it had candy it, but was the perfect size for a parakeet). What somebody would think if they ever dug them up…
This doesn’t compare to “On the Stand,” Tel. In fact, I had to go back to it after I wrote this poem and makes sure I didn’t rip anything off from you. My poem is still the imitation to your original, which is one of the best pet poems I’ve ever read.
http://tellymcgaha.com/2010/02/10/on-the-stand/
Many people will relate to this poem. You have made me feel better about my animals (dogs, silkie chickens, gouldian finches) – sometimes when my dogs leak a bit of pee or bark too much I think it would be easier without them, but really I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love this bit:
‘pity the homes without stray
hair, or puddles of urine that dampen
socks unexpectedly.’
We all think the same things, Gabrielle, but you know, when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t trade my clawed-up furniture for anything.
I never had any animals, we could barely afford the knock off doll but I’ve always liked gold fish, I don’t know why but I’d love to own a fish ten with different kinds of beautiful fishes……. Your poem is lovely, simply stunning
Get thee to a fish store, souldose! Thanks for visiting and thank you for the compliment!
This is wonderful and made me think about all of my childhood pets. Love it. I admire you. I can’t write as much as you do-with the quality that you possess. Happy Easter, and take care!
Oh, and by the way,
I love the new photo on your blog. You are a handsome young man! LOVE it!
Hello Bryan!
Recently discovered your work and just wanted to say what an amazing poet you are!
“The truth is I’ve loved more dogs
than men, our family plot more”
That part absolutely killed me (in a good way
). Amazing work. How absolutely beautiful you are.
-Indie Harper
I was waiting for someone to quote that line, Indie. That was the line that sparked this poem. I wrote it in an email to Patti (who commented above) and then stepped back and said, wow, I need to build a poem around that. Welcome, and thank you for the kind words!
Since I live in the country…where coyotes and owls are my pets…primarily because other small creatures only prove to be a food sources for the aforementioned pets…I can only vaguely identify with this poem…but I do recall a time with a different type of pet..as well as the many joys of such ownership noted in your poem.
all three of my pound kitties saw AMEN Meow
Nothing to add, really. But a wonderful little thing, this.
Dude- yeah I called you that. I tried to read this the day you put it up, but I guess it was meant to be. Then I came back and read it slowly word for word.
Ane is smiling, and the memory of ‘mouth to mouth’ when her cat Oreo dropped Cookie and Chip down into the bottom of my shoe box, and I spent the whole next month watching that cat like a hawk. I thought Ane made me a light sleeper, now I know it was those cats who walk like lions, but you never hear their feet stomping the ground.
E Stelling
http://tmi-chef.blogspot.com/
OREO!!!! I had a cat named Oreo! He was so close to being in this poem, but you can see that I name-dropped him in the tags. Awwww Ane… another connection we would have had!
Oh get out! I did not even notice the name Oreo in here!
E
“I have seen dogs with more style than men.” Charles Bukowski
Arf.