May 29 2020: Waiting

There I always something profoundly sad bout dogs in clinics and shelters. Perhaps because on some level we can all relate.

As an aside, the dog in the photo is from the clinic I work at and he is not snarling—he had an accident a while back and that old injury isn’t why he was visiting. He was simply so striking that I couldn’t resist taking a picture and that one in particular ended up matching so well with today’s poem that I had to use it.

February 18 2020: Old Dog, New Puppy

I started my day cuddling my bride, our old dog, and our new puppy. Our old dog has been struggling with our new addition and has felt a little displaced. He was so very happy this morning and has been laying on top of my feet since I sat down with my notebooks and journal to begin my day. I love this dog.

Old Dog, New Puppy

Day 300 & Day 301: Drizzle; Numbers and Noise

Yesterday’s poem written before a long drive through some yucky weather. Too heavy to be called mist, too light to be called rain. Just wet enough to make the roads fun to drive on and seep into everything.

Drizzle

This morning’s poem brought to you from that “I don’t know where this is coming from” part of my mind. I’m honestly not sure if it’s a form of insight or simply my attempt to process everything that’s going on lately in the world. There just seems to be so much…

Numbers and Noise

Day 235: Animal Clinic

My new job is as a veterinarian technician. So far I’m loving it. That said, there are some emotionally hard-hitting moments and patients. There are far more highs than lows, but those lows a little tough to process. Today’s poem is more for the sake of catharsis than anything else.

Animal Clinic

Day 143: Lonely Carnival

My bride and I have been in Houston for the past few days visiting family and getting some things done. We’ve passed this empty carnival by West Oaks Mall a couple of times, the rides all going, but the carnival and parking lot completely devoid of people. Got me thinking and inspired today’s poem.

Not feeling that it’s one of my stronger works. What are your thoughts?

Lonely Carnival

Days 176 & 177: Packed; Missing Spots

Once again inspiration struck when I didn’t have my notebook on me and I had to resort to writing yesterday’s poem on scrap paper. I transcribed it into my poetry notebook this morning before writing today’s poem.

Yesterday I left my bride and my dog in Houston. Nobody’s especially thrilled about it, least of all my puppy. He’s a rescue and has severe anxiety attacks every time he sees a suitcase being packed. He knows it means a trip and that it’s not going to be a quick ride in the car. He gets both desperate and excited and it’s him that inspired yesterday’s poem. Kind of hurt to write it out. I’m missing him and my bride today.

Packed

This morning’s poem comes from my ever frenetic attempts at organization and prioritizing. There’s always more to do. And now after that. Beauty of life. When it runs out, there’s no life left. Even so, I feel like I’m sending my brain spiraling around inside my own skull sometimes.

Missing Spots