Springtime frolics, #Tanka

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems, for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge, are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poets – and to date I seem to be the only dog poet –  write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt.

This week however, being the first week in the month, we can choose our own words and mine are April and Fool.

You can find out all about the challenge, the different poetry forms, and have a go yourself, by clicking below.
Colleen’s poetry challenge

After the dark days of winter, spring has enlivened me and I’m up for anything.  My newfound mischievousness has inspired this weeks poem, a Tanka.

pet mischief

b776b96f67b0f1a78e0d3ceae4115d3c--funny-dogs-funny-animals

I’m game for a laugh

Purveyor of happiness,

Big wagging of tail.

Like the jester’s  guileless pranks,

Springtime frolics, harmless fun.

By Ben, the dog poet © 2019

You can see what all the other poets got up to by clicking below.
The poet writes – challenge no 129

Love Ben xx
0

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Ben’s new Munromobile #A Tanka

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poets – and to date I seem to be the only dog poet –  write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt.

This week the word are spring and sing; I am doing a Tanka.

You can find out about it all, and have a go yourself, by clicking below:

Colleen’s poetry challenge

 

Photo of Ben's van no available in this format.

Last week I had to relinquish my van, which had been our friend, transport and accommodation, as we climbed the first 50 mountains on our quest to conquer the 282 Munros in Scotland; they are the mountains over 3000 feet. While I had grown to love the character of my van it seems that’s it’s unreliability was a bit of a liability. I had very mixed feelings about this transformation and wrote about then in this blog:

Ben’s new Munromobile

You can read all about our v. v. v big challenge here. Ben’s adventure

However, look at what I’ve got now and, of course, I had to write a poem about it.

 

IMG_4234

Bought near Pentland hills –
My rising star, shinning bright –
Tanka-Kangoo beams.
Like the promise of sunset
Or a boyant, joyous song.

Love Ben, the dog poet xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sensational

Oh golly gosh,

Thank you so much for coming to visit a dog poet. My poems for Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge are a take on life from a canine perspective. We poets – to date I seem to be the only dog poet –  write one of the structured poems permitted and have to integrate, as synonyms, the two words given as a prompt. Though, for the first poem of each month, we can choose our own words. This week I have chosen the words scent and sad and I am doing a short Haibun , followed by a Tanka. The Haibun is a piece of prose, with a title, written in the first person canine singular, and it occurs in the present moment. The poem that follows – never seeks to repeat, quote from or explain the prose. It should reflect some aspect of the prose by introducing a different step in the narrative through a microburst of detail – seemingly different, yet somehow connected; gosh!

To be honest, I’m not sure I’ve captured all that but, then again, I’m only a dog and I’ve done my best for my first attempt. The Tanka that follows is structured in 5 lines, with a syllable count of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7. I’m pretty sure I’ve managed that, which isn’t bad for a dog, even a dog poet.

You can find out about it all and, have a go yourself. by clicking below:

Colleen’s poetry challenge

Sensational

sensational

She entered my life as a burst of starlight on a winter’s night, igniting my senses. The sky is now bluer and mown grass more fragrant, while autumn leaves laugh and crackle under foot. Our walks in the forest inject my heart with joy and – with soft steps – I dance, trying to catch moving shadows on the path. Here, verdant trees – swaying in the breeze – filter sunlight.

When she goes away, as she sometimes has to, a despondency numbs my senses and then a grey mantilla shrouds my life. I am reminded of lines from the poet, Yevtushenko:
“ The colours in my eyes will fade, when your face sets.”

Though – of course – being a dog, my senses will be extinguished when her smell is gone.

Her smell fading now
Each moment a crying shame.
Disrupted, my world –
Like neglected flower heads –
Drooping, lifeless, sees no sun.

By Ben, the dog poet ©2019

Additionally, you can read all the poems from last week here: Tuesday poetry challenge recap

And, if you need a little bed time reading to send you to sleep, you can read lots of my poems ever, here: The dog poet’s poems

You can also read all about my big walking charity challenge here: Mucky Boots and Flawless Paws, but that might keep you awake at night, or possibly give you nightmares – hee, hee!

Love Ben xx 0

Ben’s Review of the Year – 2018, Part Two

Friends, collies, bereaved dogs,

Summer – continued

As I left you at end of my annual review, part one, the old girl was hanging in there, just. I was being all care and understanding, and I even gave her my ‘find your treat’ puzzle game, to help distract her from her demented troubles. It worked wonderfully for a little while and the head work needed sent her, after she found all her treats, into a lovely peaceful sleep.

However, on 2nd September, the balance was disturbed, the see-saw tipped and went with a big bang on the floor. We came home from our caravan and phoned the vet the next morning. I was kept in the bedroom just in case, despite my best efforts, I wasn’t able to keep my ADHD tendencies under control. I could tell what was going on though, all too well. There was a lot of that sweet talking and I heard the whirr of that machine that blows hot air on your fur, meaning the old girl was getting a shampoo and blow dry. It wouldn’t do me, I’m terrified of the thing, but the old girl seems to love it. Next Andy, our favourite vet, arrived and there was a bit of talking, then some sobbing and everything was calm and quiet. It felt very peaceful, as if a struggling spirit had been set free.

img_3743a

How was I to know that I would miss her soooooooooo much. Getting back on the soft furnishings was no compensation AT ALL. I could smell her everywhere: in the house, in the garden, in the car, in our caravan, in our forest. It was only in wide open spaces, with a fresh wind bringing a myriad of smells, that I got any relief. After my walk and back at home she was all over the place again. Us dogs don’t have big frontal lobes, to rationalise everything and know all about a ripe old age, or a wonderful life; we rely on our senses to understand our world and all I knew was the old girl should have been there but wasn’t. I would just curl up and go into a v. v. v low mood. Apparently, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was still eating my dinner my people would have been consulting Andy.

222a

Eventually, the bi-peds started talking about getting another dog sooner than they had planned, as a companion for Ben to help make me happier. Now, please don’t think I’m ungrateful. I know all about best intentions and things like that but I had mixed feelings on the matter. A new pal and a young one that I could play with would be brilliant but, how could I replace the old girl with a new model? After all, I have grown to love her over nearly four years.

Autumn

Nothing came of it in the end because my topsy turvy year did a double somersault when David did a big fall down while we were out hill walking. It wasn’t one of those skidding slides they often do, or a quick down and up trip, that are frequent too. This was more of an out of control crash onto more rocks – ouch. I was out in front, of course, so didn’t actually capture the moment, but I knew there was a bit of drama going on by the faces of the three women coming down the hill towards us. We did lots of holding on to each other and trying to walk but it wasn’t any good, something major had gone wonky. I didn’t like the noises that accompanied these efforts at all. In the end we settled for sitting on a rock and getting very cold. It all seemed a bit pointless to me because we were a long way from home and my dinner time was getting a bit pressing but, in all honesty, I didn’t have a better solution to offer. The women who had see the moment of crisis hung around and did lots of talking into those machines that freak me out when put to my ear. I’m not very good with strangers so my anxiety enzymes started out on a swim around my internal tubes. They were very nice and gentle people so it was just a bit of doggy paddle really until eventually, a big tribe of hulking bi-peds – carrying god knows what on their backs – came in waves over the hills ahead of us. My enzymes went into a fierce race of butterfly stroke in my tummy as 34 of them came towards us and I knew I had to defend my pack; it wasn’t a pretty sight.

B seemed ready to desert David while she tried to pacify me but I wasn’t having any of it. In the end she had to remove me from the scene altogether, leaving David’s fate in the hands of the marauding gang. B tried to reassure me, saying they knew what they were doing, but I wasn’t convinced. I didn’t like walking away one little bit. The worst part was when this terrifying bird, all roar and thunder, with scary flapping wings came down and stole my person.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

B wouldn’t stop and just seemed intent on going back the way we had come at a rate of knots. I didn’t see David that night, or the night after, or the night after that. His smells were added to the old girl’s and I was beside myself with grief. I did manage a little bit of dinner every night but otherwise I was distraught.

Then, on one of those days when I had been for a long drive with B, followed by much sitting around waiting for her to come back, I spotted two figures coming towards the car. I had to look and look and I didn’t want to get it wrong and be even more disappointed but… I was right. Oh what joy, the best day of my life, EVER.  There was David in front but, oh deary me, he was being pushed in an ugly wheelie thing. It wasn’t very becoming. When he eventually got in the car and he turned around to stroke me David smelt a bit like my vets. Perhaps Andy had been to see him and tried to make him better. It seemed to me like it was only a job half done. In fact, whatever had been done, or left undone, necessitated a whole cacophony of equipment, much of it ending up on top of me anytime we went out in the car. I really didn’t like all this alien stuff in my house, it made me scared, all those awful wheels and David spending an age to get anywhere with that awful cage thing he pushed along in front of him, and B never sitting down like she used to do all the time. Life had just become even more awful. Ben doesn’t do change well.

collage 1

It was a very different type of routine too. B and me went out in the morning and I had a run with my ball in a new forest, instead of with David at our Mabie Forest. Then I went to work with B and had to sit in my soft crate all day long; It was soooo boring. Later, on our way home, I had another game in the forest and then went home to see David but he was like a different person with that cage thing as an appendage, always in front of him blocking me out. I did meet lots of lovely people at B’s work and I had been on my  v. v. v best behaviour except for just one day. I got really scared when someone came in our office and I let them know it, in no uncertain terms: barking and lunging and getting a bit of skirt. Then I was in disgrace and not allowed to go back again, so we all just had to make the best of it.

Winter

At the end of November I began to think about how my review of the year was going to shape up. It had been a year to test the moral fibre of a young dog and I had done my best. All the time I just had to keep the old girl in my mind because she coped with any changes that were thrown at her and never seem to mind. Even so, I really couldn’t say my life had got better and better, like I had been able to say in the previous three reviews. That is until….

img_4198a

 

My people had been thinking of me all the time after all. They couldn’t wait till Christmas to give me my big present. I was beside myself with happiness at last. Actually, I didn’t know what the funny thing was but, where there are balls there is light.

 

Apparently, despite all my poetry writing, I’m not such a smart Border Collie after all. I just could not work out how to make the whirligig thing fire. I knew where the balls came from, right down next to my nose, but I had no idea how you got them there. My people did all this strange hand clapping in the air, to make me lift my nose from the ground but it was no good. As far as I was concerned it was just a magic machine, nothing I could influence, my job was to run after the balls it launched and catch them. I was v. v. v good at it too.

Seemingly, it was meant to be a DIY toy for me, so I could exercise myself because David couldn’t take me to the forest and I couldn’t go to work with B anymore. We managed OK though, because David’s frontal cage had gone and he had progressed to hobbling about with a couple of sticks. He could pick up the ball with my thrower and make the magic happen. It was safer than doing the throwing too, while trying to keep upright on one stick. A big wobble at this stage and we could be back to square one. Mind you, standing up must have been hard work because we  were never out for long at one time, just in and out  like yo-yos – with a little rest in between times – to make sure my exercise was up to date.

David disappeared overnight shortly after my ball machine came and B was busy all night transforming our living room. Lots of lights went up, holders for candles were dispersed, a tree decorated and other bits and pieces arranged about the room; we were getting ready for Christmas; it all had to be ready for David when he came home the next day, smelling of the vet again.

After this the atmosphere lightened in our house. Two sticks gave way to one stick and then no sticks at all. There were still lots of painful squeaks from David, but they were less frequent and lower in volume. There was also more activity going on about the place, with packing up of some Ben essentials: food and bowl, toys, wrapped Christmas presents and, of course, my balls. David and B put one or two of their things in the car too. We drove away for our Christmas holiday. Me and B were able to get out on the hills every day, and I was beginning to get back to my old self. I learnt that David was doing his best to get fit so that he could take me to Mabie Forest when we got home, and that made me deliriously merry. Life would get back to normal at last. On Christmas Day, I had so many parcels to open and I got so excited tearing the paper off. I had lots of soft toys (some that seemed uncannily familiar) and new balls with squeaks that I hadn’t destroyed yet, as well as loads of yummy treats, lots of dog beer and a special dinner. We were all cuddly happy again. It had been a long year.

After our holiday a funny thing happened. We didn’t go home at all but went away on roads without any smells I knew. We arrived at a house I’d never been to and I met people I had never known before. They were lovely because they smelt of dog and gave me treats. I also made a special friend called Buzz.  We are soul mates because of our shared passion – balls, of course.

We went out for evening walks together and went to the park together. I bet you can guess what we played ⊗⊗⊗⊗⊗. Buzz kept pinching my ball but he is just a little boy being mischievous, so I let him away with it. Anyway, I knew I would get brownie points with my people if I didn’t make a fuss and they go along way in the treats department. We also went to the beach and there were five of us playing about, having fun. Merry, Mimi and Kera were there and I have corresponded before. It was so lovely to meet them at last. Their people are helping me raise lots of dosh for clever helping dogs, through my Munro Challenge, and I really should have done more of a really big thank you but someone had a ball in their hand at the time so I was somewhat distracted.

I had never stayed in a house with other people before, so we were all a bit nervous about the whole venture, with my anxiety enzymes ready to jump into action at the first sign of Ben’s imagined threats.  I didn’t get much freedom, but it probably saved me from myself and when we came away Ben had done reasonably well; it’s even possible that I might even be invited again. I was allowed to stay up to see in the New Year, when there was lots of that hugging and kissing stuff that bi-peds go in for. They also had glasses of fizzy stuff and, I thought to myself, this sparkle is for all of us, for the coming year. Here’s to 2019 – Cheers.

download (3)

Then, with that profound thought in my head, I fell fast asleep.

img_3505a
And so to bed

Love Ben xx 0

 

A triple Nonet poem for Christmas

Fellow festive poets,

This is my contribution to Colleen’s poetry challenge. In the run-up to Christmas, we have been given three weeks of words, to be used as synonymously in our poems. They are: try and life; fly and sing; belief and joy

I have decided to do one poem with three stanzas, utilising the two words for each week in consecutive stanzas (I’m great!). The poem’s structure is a Nonet which is a sequence of syllables that runs: 9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1. My middle stanza is a reverse Nonet, starting with 9 syllables and ending with 1.

This is my first every Nonet and I do so hope you like it.

images

Determined, sustained effort,
Flying focus of trained eye.
Zealous application of
Aerodynamic laws
Plots trajectory
With Collie brain.
One buoyant
bouncing
Ben.

Balls
Soaring
Through the sky
Reaching mouth, such
Ecstasy. Ben’s own
Guiding philosophy:
To bark, to jump, to chase those
Spherical objects of desire;
Camera captures airborne embrace.

Garlands on mantels, candles alight
And presents stacked below the tree.
Trusting Santa, all paws crossed,
Excitement unconstrained.
Tear the wrapper and…
Hark! The yellow
tennis coats
surround
Bliss!

IMG_4117

I hope you have your best Christmas ever and get your heart’s desire.

Lots of love

Ben xx 0

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ben’s weekly poetry, #Haiku

Gosh, thank you so much for visiting my blog.

This post is for my main man – David 😊😊😊

My poem is in response to Colleen’s weekly poetry challenge. We poets, even dog poets, write a structured poem containing synonyms of two words prompts which Colleen usually provides (Click here for the guidelines). However, for the first poem of each month we select our own words. This week I am using the words rock and roll. I’ve chosen them for two reasons. Firstly, because I’m in a good mood. My male person came home from hospital on Wednesday and we are a complete unit again. I like to do a bit of dancing about when I’m happy. Then, when I went outside today I saw our Willow tree rocking and rolling in the stormy winds at our house; they were awful. When I tried to play ball, I had no way of knowing where my ball was going to end up. I got v. v. v dizzy 😓

This is my Haiku, I so hope you like it.

one-man-and-his-dog-willow-sculpture
One man and his dog, reproduced by kind permission of  willow sculptor Caroline Gregson.

Link to Caroline’s work

Watch the willow bend
Swaying arcs in reeling wind
Supple fronds for art

By Ben, the dog poet ❤ 🐾 xx © 2018

 

 

Ani’s Advent Calendar 2018! Rationing, Roberta Eaton and a child’s Christmas in wartime

My fellow writer Ani (the small dog) has made an advent calendar of recollections about Christmas from her friends (two and four legged). What a brilliant idea.

Today’s is all about what a little girl wrote to Santa in the war time. It make me feel very lucky indeed. I’m going to ask my people not to buy me so many presents this year but to give some dosh to the dog re-homing kennels. It’s very hard to do but I think it’s the right thing. I hope we don’t have to go in for rationing though.

You can read the letter but clicking on this link and follow Ani’s calendar too.

Love Ben 0

via Ani’s Advent Calendar 2018! Rationing, Roberta Eaton and a child’s Christmas in wartime