Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2018 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   295247 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry


Read Poetry
Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Call This Our Autumn

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)



Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

It Comes At Night

The Hot Seasons

Perhaps I Too, Was Frozen

You Are (I'm Here With You)

Joyce Will Soon Be Seventy-Something

All Too Clearly Now

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Oh What A Fall

Last In Class

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

in-EFFECTIVE (Fragile)

I Long For Stars

From The Point Of A Star

Someone Send Out A Search Party

This Is It

If I Were Your Island....

Spokes Spoken

Plain Speakin' (Lyrical Poem)

All Beings Considered

It Is The Rain

Like a Small Child Tucked Into

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

Its Their Problem

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

More Poetry >>


  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook


I'm An Old Bad Dog Barking At The Rain

I'm an old bad dog
barking at the rain
I know the rain will fall
but I don't quite get why
it has to fall again and again

I'm all wet
and I'm mostly getting
My other friends are out here too
and we're soaked through
its not getting any better

A dog can only stand so much
living under such
There's a growing group of us
neglected much
while the masters sit inside
calm and comfortable
Out here there's no shelter
in which to seek comfort
no place to hide

I'm a bad dog, a mad dog,
a cur, a sort of undesirable one
I must sit outside
suffer otherness
I feel like an unchosen one

Whatever the weather
we dogs slog through it all
With only our coats on
waiting for a pat,
those seeing eyes
a certain kind of noticing
a certain kid of tone
and for you to put away your phone

I'm a bad dog, a nearly mad dog
relegated to and tugging at my leash
This rope keeps me segregated from
and separated from those people and places
I'd rather reach

The man is safe inside
attending to his important need
now I even wear a muzzle
so my anxious barking
doesn't impede
his leisure
his pleasure
so I'm a good dog
not a dog in need

Still the rain is falling down
and we dogs get very wet
I'm told I'm a good dog while I wait
but what good do I get
this is not how
you treat someone
I don't feel like man's best friend

Man could take a fine lesson from a dog
about what a real best friend is...
like how we're always happy to see one another
how we greet each other with a bark and with a wide smile
how the first thing we do is to play
and run around and eventually we all feel better
in a short while

Can I sum it all up for you
and not do the supposing and
second guessing you human creatures do
and act so self-assured of your rightness and
asserting how you are so pithy-wise...
how you claim how well you see things
but we dogs have better eyes

let me break it down
put it into human language
you might understand

Why don't you try out being a dog
sit out
in the rain
without barking
or complaining
or feeling neglected and alone
while all we dogs go inside and
do our business
just like the man

April 28 2018/ 12:28PM PST time date stamped
legal copyright for this poem/rant/work and also for this
writer/author/poet Melissa A Howells and also for this
legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

This poem is exactly what you think its about
but not quite exactly...I am giving you, the reader
plenty of food for thought. Why would anyone want to be
treated like a dog, when a dog can be treated like this?

Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem